Bottles
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I REALLY did not want to read this out in my lecture. It was originally written for my Creative Writing module this year and I did not want to swear in the first utterance! So my lecturer thought he should read through a list of swear words to make me me comfortable while I was just thinking: "this is so wrong, you're not supposed to swear like this!" x3 Yeah, I was weird then, but reading your work aloud is awkward as hell.
I didn't edit this beyond the editing I did for formal submission because it's first person and you don't NEED to know a furry species in this one. I like leaving this open. What species do you think Dylan Thomas would be? If you don't know Dylan Thomas...it's probably because you haven't had his work rammed down your throat since you were old enough to read and listen to poetry. I've been to the location in the story where Thomas was indeed almost machine-gunned to death in a quiet coastal town. Wales. Where shit gets serious.
Enjoy and let me know what you think of the snippet.
Story and characters (c) Amethyst Mare / Arian Mabe
Bottles Written by Arian Mabe / Amethyst Mare
First person monologue inspired by the attempted shooting of Dylan Thomas. Written as if it is part of a story in which every character gets a chapter in first person and the perspective changes, as the style in novel-length stories interests me.
William Killick: Bottles
That bitch.
She knew what she was doing to me: oh, she knew. Snake in the grass, viper with a silver tongue. She's responsible for this! And them! Them still down at the Black Lion having a jolly good laugh over throwing an old man out on his behind. I'll get them, I will, I'll get them. And her. Vera, Vera, Vera, whatever happened to you? Corrupted, you is, corrupted by that swine. Vera Killick, Vera Killick, my wife. You should be home with me right now. But where are you? Where's Vera for William?
She says she never done it, but I know she has. She's been with him, she has, I know it. Why else would I come back here and find everything missing! Missing, I say! Back from duty overseas and she's given my money away, phwah. Vera's given my money away, who'd've believed it? All to 'im and his booze. Dylan. And Caitlin. She's in on it too. Probably laughing about me in their cosy little pub. Needs to keep her handle on her husband, she does, that girl. More of a woman anyway, he is. Who needs to go to_Black Lion_? Horrible place. But they're there. Drinking my money. Vera, Vera, how could you have given my money to that clout? I could get them, I could. I could get all of them.
And the start of all of this, started by Dylan. Lies too! I wasn't rude to her, I wasn't. If he didn't want comments on that bird, he shouldn't have brought her down, I say. Not like I haven't seen the likes of her before, I know her kind. She'll be after my money too. Secretary? Nice lark, Dylan, nice lark. You're not getting a penny more from me! I'll make sure of that.
Time is passing. The clock needs winding. Damn thing's stopped again, it's always stopping. They won't be in the_Black Lion_ anymore, they'll be home, home in Majoda. Like geese, they are, flocking to what they know and migrating as the season turns. I've seen enough geese to know the like. They make enough noise for it too, flapping and honking over their booze, mindless things. And three women now - something wrong with that man. What does he need a Secretary for anyway? To jot down his wild and exciting ideas? Can't he do that himself? Or has his head gone too big for that now? Too big a man to put pen to paper, so he gets a woman to do it for him. Some man he is.
The gun is polished and cleaned. Shiny from the cloth and clicking smoothly. Must have taken apart and put these things together a hundred and one times in the course of duty. This is hands on work, men's work. Not like the poems that bastard writes. This is a man's job and it's a man's job I will do now. I've had enough. A few rounds should do the trick and it's a few rounds I have. I've had enough of this, I have.
You were wrong to take me on, Dylan, and I'll have you. I'll find you, I will. And, when I do find you, I'll introduce them to someone, make no mistake. They'll never catch me and they'll never get me, make no mistake.
Make no mistake at all.