Hello……Again.

I’ve been quiet again for a few days and not got round to checking the blogosphere out.  My wife had booked for us to go up to a place called Lochinver for a few nights to meet up with friends.  It was a beautiful place, and a short drive from where we stayed was a stunning white sand beach with crystal clear blue sea.  Most annoyingly my camera decided to F*****G break on me so I’ve got to wait to get some photos from my friend.  The following photo I found on the Internet and a few beers were drank on those rocks!

Anyway, in between getting back from Manchester and then driving up to Lochinver, I managed to get half an hour to write something for The Clarity Of Night contest.  I literally wrote it in half an hour and obviously failed in getting into the “forties club”, but hey ho, it’s not the end of the world.  If I’d given myself more time who knows?  The story is very tongue-in-cheek and you can read it below.

The Colour Of Fear.

The drill hovered above my face, its noise unpleasant on my ears. I looked into the eyes behind the glasses and feared for my life. A mask covered the lower half of the face, making the eyes seem more penetrating and manic. I focused again on the drill, concentrating on the tip that was spinning ferociously as it was moved closer to my face. My hands clutched the chair arms, knuckles turning white as I gripped tighter and tighter. I looked at the eyes again, the surrounding wrinkles more pronounced.

Heโ€™s laughing behind that mask.

I tried to move, forcing my head into the back of the chair, the muscles in my neck aching as I tried to move my head further away. Strong hands pushed at my shoulders, holding me down.

The drill was getting closer and I looked at the eyes again. There was frustration etched around them now, and the eyebrows were furrowed. It was then that I saw the two round jewels. In the reflection of the glasses, the bluest sapphires stared back at me. If fear had a colour, then it would be sapphire blue.

That drill is going no where near my eyes, you bastard.

I pushed again, my head thrashing, but the hands on my shoulders pushed back, just as hard. Instantly the drill was moved away from my face, its noise fading to nothing.

โ€œMrs Robinson, if you continue to act this way, your tooth is going to get worse.โ€

-End-

You know the drill…

I’m still pissed off about my camera!!!

Advertisements

17 Comments

Filed under clarity of the night, david barber, david barber's fiction world, lochinver, the colour of fear

17 responses to “Hello……Again.

  1. Ha! The dentist. Nice twist on that. I was thinking there was a 'Kafka-esque' nastiness in the works for the narator.

  2. Thanks, Alan, although I had to look up Kafka. God, there's so much more I need to learn. ๐Ÿ™‚

  3. Oh, excellent twist to the tale! I was thinking it was a typical DIY drill – hah!Nice to see you back, Mr B, sounds like you had a nice break – and with 4th Aug as the deadline for the latest FFF, will you be offering up a wee tale for us?

  4. Thanks Sue. Deadline shmedline. I don't think I will ever get to grips with time-keeping. I'll have something ready for sure, but God only knows what it will be like, cause I don't….yet. ๐Ÿ™‚

  5. …..I'm sure you'll rise to the challenge and produce something fantastic – why break the habit of a lifetime!And thanks for the 'encouragement' re. DOMINO ๐Ÿ™‚

  6. Yeah, what I was refering to was 'In the Penal Colony' by Kafka. The guy's a prisoner in a prison setting and they plan to execute him with an elaborate torture/execution device. There's a write-up on Wikipedia.It's a long, short story and you can read it here: https://records.viu.ca/~Johnstoi/kafka/inthepenalcolony.htm

  7. Thanks, Alan. I'll check him out.

  8. Definitely a bit of the Kafkaesque in there. Then again, I think Franz might have actually invented dentistry. Giant bummer about the camera, you've always got great shots from your trips.

  9. Thanks, Randal. I'm on the search for a new camera as we speak. Cashflow pending. ๐Ÿ™‚

  10. David, good to see you back(-ish)! Cool tale, nice little laugh at the end.By the way, I don't know who Kafka is either – and I own a bookshop!!

  11. Thanks Paul. We're always learning it seems. The way I'm feeling about work at the mo, I'll be over there buying into your bookshop, mate. I can't see myself tiling for too much longer. There's a great little book shop in Crieff, but I missed out on it. A couple of years back it was for sale. One day…

  12. G-damn Dentists. Hate that sound. Liked it, but it did seem rough around the edges some. 1/2 hour writes can do that. Sometimes though, just the right words come out. Always a crap shoot putting a time limit on it.I did not make the "Forties Club" either – Only I think my problem was I over edited. Spent too much time on it. I'll post my effort here at some point.

  13. Mr. barber… you ARE a mini-Kafka… And only on 30 minutes? Awesome…

  14. Mike – I agree with you, mate. Time certainly wasn't on my side and as you say, sometimes the right words come out. Thanks.Anthony – Thanks, man. I would have liked it to have been a bit better but I'll accept "awesome" all day long.

  15. //I'm still pissed off about my camera!!!// Aw, gees, get over it. At least you guys remembered the beer! Priority concerns need to get consideration!!!

  16. Jimm – You've just cheered me up. I'm going to crack open a beer and forget about my camera. Thanks, man. (I've got a new one coming soon) ๐Ÿ™‚

  17. see!!!! all good things etc… When my daughter was in Italy her BRAND NEW camera puked…..and the Italian dude was of no help. When she got to England some jovial bloke fixed her in two shakes with a good deal ……

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s