Autobiography into Fiction

Me...

2009-09-10T09:12:00.001Z

I always liked to study different disciplines and subjects, because I like the challenge of studying something new, something that I am not familiar with. I think that’s what made me join the University of Hertfordshire as a student in 2004 – the desire for adventure alongside with the wish to take a higher education degree.

In 2007, when I concluded my BA (Hons) Humanities, with a major in History, and minors in Eng. Literature and Business Communications, I was not keen to pursue any Masters degree. During the three years I was studying for my undergraduate degree, I worked really hard, many times taking on a work full-time schedule, often running between my job and the University. I had to work really hard to pay for my accommodation, my food and my books. I was studying full-time, so I really had to plan my days to the minute and make the most of my already scarce free time. Sometimes I would study at work, during my lunch hour – Studynet was an invaluable tool throughout my whole degree because it allowed me to catch up on the lectures and review all the lessons, something I did mostly at night.

For three years I had no social life. Dealing with homesickness and other challenges along the way made me stronger and eager to succeed. I still remember when I arrived to this country... Full of dreams and hopes, I left my already established life in Portugal, and all that was so familiar to me, for the experience of studying abroad and enhance my CV.

I had £300 of savings when I got here, no job, accommodation paid for 3 months and absolutely no clue about how the UK’s life style was or how the UK’s education system worked. Adaptation was tough but I pulled it off after just one month. I secured a job selling handbags in a stall at the Galleria Outlet Centre less than a month after I arrived to Hatfield. After that job, many others followed, and step by step I worked on my qualifications as well as on my work experience. When I finished my undergraduate studies, I did not want to do a Masters degree. The previous three years had been so hard, and I was so proud of my 2:1, that I just wanted to enter into the job market and start working on my career goals. I was 29 and time was running so fast - but my friends really encouraged me to do a Masters degree, as I was a very consistent, bright student.

I applied for the Masters degree and waited. In August, 2007 I was accepted at the MA Marketing. My natural ability to multi-task allied to good time management skills made me a suitable candidate to take more than one job on board whilst I was studying. By December 2007, I was running between three jobs – one of them with Nespresso. It didn’t take long for some of my lecturers to notice me and on March, 2008 I was invited to join the Graduate Consulting Unit (GCU) as a Graduate Researcher.

After that, it was one success after the other, thanks to a lot of work, dedication and a little bit of luck too. I finished my MA with commendation and was promoted to the Unit’s Lead Researcher that same year. I manage/lead the research/ projects undertaken by graduate researchers at the Graduate Consulting Unit, supporting the graduate researchers all throughout their work. More recently this year I was appointed Blended Learning Programme coordinator, and I will be leaving the GCU to pursue that role on a more permanent basis.

Working at the University has also allowed me to continue my learning and I am currently undertaking my second Masters Degree (this time in Computer Science) in a part-time regime. I am not thinking about going home anymore and I have made the UK my second home.

Against Bullying!

2009-05-20T10:35:00.003Z

I am against bullying - and I created this poster on http://www.bullying.co.uk/poster/

This blog post is part of Zemanta's "Blogging For a Cause" campaign to raise awareness and funds for worthy causes that bloggers care about.

The Pet Store

2009-05-03T19:14:00.000Z

The pet store’s window was sparkling on top of the street and Jeannie could see it clearly from where she was, several yards away. Holding hands with Mark, she was overwhelmed by the excitement.
Her tiny jumps were meant to make Mark walk faster, but also to release her from the anxiety she felt inside.
Mark’s right arm moved up and down, accompanying Jeannie’s movements. He felt silly but he didn’t want to spoil the moment. It was all too magical for him: her smile, her energy, her tiny little hands in his, and the look on her face. That look delighted him, and being part of her happiness was still something that he wasn’t used to. He could get used to it very quickly though, he reckoned.
‘Mark! Mark! We goin to pet shop are we?…we are, yes? Me want’ go there’
Her tiny green eyes looked at him in a subservient way, and he smiled.
‘Yes, we are.’
Hearing his answer was like a thousand stars passing through her, carrying warmth and light. Her eyes sparkled with joy and she held his hand tighter, continuing the jumping.
The walk to the shop seemed never ending, and Jeannie started to get impatient, even though Mark was doing his best to keep up with the long jumping movement Jeannie constantly inflicted on his arm.
It was a damp, sad day. The rain had stopped half an hour ago, allowing people to join them in their street walk, moving in a nervous hurry. A catwalk of grey coats and brollies surrounded them.
The cars were stopped in a red light further up, forming a queue that extended behind to where they were. The sidewalks were wet and slippery, and in the air there was a smell of freshly damped soil.
Mark took a deep breath.
‘I love this smell!’ Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t realise that Jeannie was already peaking at the store’s window, sticking her face right against the big glass.
Her eyes were wide open, and her small body was entirely leaning against the window, in a vain attempt to pass to the other side without having to go through the door.
‘Hey, hey, you little devil! Don’t lean on the glass, you might break it’. Suddenly Mark was hit by a feeling he had never known before. He was invaded by a love that he had no clue where it came from, and embraced Jeannie sweetly but fast enough to keep her at a reasonable distance from the store’s window.
‘Mark, look…Ohhhhh… and… Mark, look there, ohhhh!’ she screamed, pointing her little finger to the rabbits that were in the biggest cage in sight, and right after, pointing to the little puppy that was resting in a big area at the centre of the shop.
‘Mark, lets get in! Yes? Pleaseeee, pleaseeeee…’ and she pulled his hand strongly, dragging him to the store’s door.
In front of that window, he saw the resemblances between him and her, and he couldn’t avoid smiling. There wasn’t space for any doubt, she was really his daughter.
He felt hopelessly gutted. And then, out of nowhere, he saw everything again: the day he met her mum; the day they got together; the day they had their first row; the day he left her…
‘Chris, I don’t love you anymore. Can’t you see that this is not going to work? We are different poles…’
‘No… I can’t believe this…’ she was sobbing ‘you can’t leave me. Not after all these years together… baby… please.’ Her eyes were red from crying so much. In a vain effort to make things right, she pleaded him once more ‘Baby, don’t leave me… I’m pre…’
‘Sorry Christina,’ he interrupted ‘my decision is irreversible. I am not going back on it. From now on we are no longer an item, a couple, or whatever we were supposed to be’ and as soon as he finished talking, he left, closing the door behind him and a whole past of memories together.
What made him do that, he wasn’t sure anymore, but he hadn’t been happy and he wanted things to change. Yes, that was it!
Ten minutes later he was knocking at Laura’s.
‘Have you done it?’ she was leaning at the entrance’s door frame, obstructing his entry.
‘Yes, it’s all over.’
She let him in and hugged him, allowing an almost silent ‘at last’ escape through her teeth. They remained in the hall in silence, hugged for a while still. Mark was thinking about Chris and he felt guilty for having left her so alone and uncared.
Anyway, and despite his regrets, his life took a path of peace and mild joy. Laura was a great woman, she loved him dearly and therefore she never allowed anything to lack in his life.
They were living together for two years when he saw Christina again, in a grocery shop. She seemed so evasive when he asked her how she was! Her cheeks turned red - he could still remember. She grabbed her shopping and ran off so quickly that she totally forgot to pay for them.
He ended up doing that for her, maybe to redeem himself of what had happened in the past. It was a way of buying his forgiveness… Cheap way, though. A couple of groceries wouldn’t do the trick Mark!
And deep inside, he knew that. After that day nothing was the same anymore.
He used to dream about Christina frequently. He used to see her face and her lips. He used to see her smile, and there was something he couldn’t actually explain, but he used to feel it in his soul, as a pea under the mattress.
One night he even dreamt of her carrying a baby, having a family, but every time he was getting near to see who her husband was, a blurry image appeared instead.
Until one day he bumped into her, not so long ago. She was carrying a little girl by her hand, red curly hair, pale white skin except for some freckles in her cheeks and nose. Her eyes were flashy green and she was staring at him with a naughty grin on her face.
He smiled at her.
‘Chris… hi…’ he said shyly ‘Good to see you are doing ok’
‘…yes… I am’ her eyes were looking at the floor; she wasn’t able to look at him. He noticed her cheeks were blushed too.
‘You got married?’ He said, looking at the little girl that was now playing with her coat strings.
‘No…’
‘Oh… Ok... sorry I asked…’
‘It’s fine’ she said ‘and how is Laura?’
‘She’s at home… Making the tea…’
‘So you’re still with her, huh?’ she was now looking at him, straight into his eyes.
‘Yes.’ He looked at her and then at the little girl. ‘Is she yours?’
‘Yes… I mean, NO!’ Mark could see fear in her face, something he didn’t understand then.
When Christina hurried away, he watched them go and he felt lonely. He thought about the life he was having with Laura and there was nothing exciting in it. He wanted peace, but he ended up trapped in a routine that had nothing to do with him. And then, as a thunder hits land, so it hit him as well how much he still cared for Christina.
It started raining hard, but he kept walking towards home. Somehow that story about that little girl seemed very false. The little girl has the same hair colour as him, she had the same freckles, and she even had the same green eyes!
‘Could it be that…? No…’ he thought. ’But… what if…?’ Doubt took him over.
He turned back and headed towards Christina’s house. He knocked once. He knocked twice. Nothing. He knocked harder and harder in a non stop frenzied movement until she opened the door.
Holding on to Christina's skirt was the little girl again.
‘Mummy, who is this?’ she asked in a very thin voice.
‘Jeannie, go inside, mummy will get back to you in a minute, OK?’ She obeyed her mother straight away and disappeared inside the house.
‘Chris…’
‘What are you doing here?’ she interrupted him abruptly.
‘I want to talk. I miss you…Please, let me get in, it’s pouring rain and I’m soaked wet’
Christina seemed completely shocked with what she was listening.
‘Why should I? You left, so why should I let you in again?’
‘Because of our daughter’ he risked.
Christina slammed the door into his face but he didn’t give up. He still knew her too well. He knew that he had hit the bullseye. His heart was racing fast, he couldn’t believe he was a father; he was shocked but at the same time, he was thrilled.
‘Christina’ he screamed, banging on the door with his clenched fists 'Open up this fucking door! I have the right to be with my child too!!!’
She opened the door quickly.
‘Are you insane? Do you want everyone in the neighbourhood to know about MY private life?’ She was fuming.
‘Your private life appears to have something of MY private life too!’ he replied back.
‘Ok, get in’ she said, opening the door completely to let him pass.

***

‘Mark, Mark, lets gooooo!!!’ – Jeannie was with her hands holding the pet store’s door when he was brought back to reality.
‘Ok, little devil, go on’ he said, giggling.
‘Ohhhhhh……. Ohhhhhhhhh….’ No matter where she turned to, she couldn’t stop staring, touching, admiring, bewildered with everything in that pet store.
Mark was dazzled by her curiosity and her surprise. In a way – he thought – it was like if she was entering in a totally new world for her own, and therefore, she just couldn’t stop looking intently, but in particular, at the kittens’ area.
‘Mark, look, I want that one, I want that one, pleeeeaassseeee’ she said, pointing at the little black kitten that was hiding behind the little basket in the stand.
‘Let’s see… a black cat, huh? You are such a little witch…’ he smiled, making a simultaneous sign to the vendor.
‘Thank you, thank you!!!’ She was jumping… again…
‘You don’t have to thank me’ and he kneeled down until both were the same height ‘you know you have to take good care of the kitten, right? The kitten is a baby, just like you. The same way you have your mum to take care of you, the kitten has you to take care of him… Deal?’
‘Yes’ she replied very seriously.
‘Good’
‘But… who is going to be the kitten’s dad? I am not married…!’ she stressed in a very intellectual way.
Mark couldn’t avoid laughing out loud.
‘Well, your mummy could be the kitten’s daddy, OK?’
‘Is mummy my daddy too?’
Suddenly his heart fell. He looked at her and stroked her hair.
‘Your daddy is always near you, even though you can’t see him or be with him’
The little kitten was already in his container when Mark gave it to Jeannie. Although she couldn’t grab it, she was struggling and playing strong.
‘You are just like me, you never give up!’ he thought.
When they popped outside the shop and went walking down the street, they were giggling together.

I'll see...

2009-03-16T13:47:00.000Z

..I don't feel like writing anymore.

I feel like reading now.

I am a reader.

Race for Life

2008-05-08T14:55:00.002Z

Sponsors Needed!!!

Me and Sara, my flat-mate, are running for life!!

Event: St Albans
Date of the Event: 20th Jul 2008

All of us have friends and family that suffer or have suffered cancer. Some of them have survived, others haven't had that luck.

We are not good runners, we are not sporty and we are not even fit... but we are running for all these people so dig in your pocket and help us to keep the research going!

Moreover, if you sponsor us online, at least an extra 25% in tax will be added to your gift at no cost to you when you tick the Gift Aid box. So, what are you waiting for?

Together we will beat cancer!

Just go to our website and click SPONSOR US NOW !

Thank you!

Bramble Elfwand

2008-03-05T21:29:00.000Z

Bramble Elfwand, the youngest fairy of a family of twenty, was a free spirit. She often flies around humans, trying to play tricks on them, in her bluebell blue dresses and with a naughty-kid-like look on her face.

Oh yes, she is powerful. No one can see her. No one can even touch her. She usually laughed about that. But now it doesn’t seem to please her anymore.

In her sanctuary, right below her house in the bluebell glades, she keeps her collection of forgotten objects that humans had either lost or left behind.

When she goes to that little place of peace, she goes usually to think about her fairy situation. Maybe if she was different she could be with Dave, the only human she didn’t play any tricks on. Maybe she would be big, and be seen, and be touched…

But frequently happens, that when she’s lying down in her bed of acacia leaves, she is touched by those thoughts as well… and looking to the moon, a tiny little voice echoes through the field, while she articulates the words “I want to be a human”.

Her closest friend, squirrel Lewis, usually pops by in these moments to make her some company and release her from sadness. They both end up talking all night long, with a cup of nectar in their hands, and some chestnuts to chew.

Although she has the power to change people’s minds about anything, she can’t interfere in human feelings. It’s been like that with all kind of good sprites, and it wasn’t going to change now.

Lewis never understood Bramble’s wish to be a human. She could fly, she could have fun all the time, no responsibilities whatsoever. Ok, she can’t feel love, so what? Maybe that is for the better. Maybe it is the way things are supposed to be.

But Bramble knew she could feel love, she knew she was not an ordinary fairy. The moment she saw Dave everything turned from blue to pink, from night to day, from loneliness to exhilarating joy!

And so she started following him, and whispering in his ear good words, which constantly vibrated and remained in his head, giving him an optimistic and happy life.

But she was now tired. She wanted more, and she knew also that she could have more.

Even if that meant having to fight against the fairy world, and be expelled from it forever, she was willing to try. She wanted love; she wanted to feel what humans feel when they fall in love.

She wanted to be the confusion that she had been making others feel every time she intruded in their lives.

The continuation...

2007-09-12T20:24:00.000Z

I have recently decided to continue with this Blog, and restart my English creative writing - this time on my own. If in my previous works I was somewhat restrained by my course's demands, now I am finally free to start developing my own material without being stuck to any specific programme...

You won't have to wait long! Keep checking...

Me then (Week 7)

2007-03-19T19:54:00.000Z

" I was yound and free," she said out of the blue. Mark, who was sitting next to her nearly fell off his chair.

"What do you mean you WERE young and free?" He asked, confused. "You are still young, and as far as I know you are free as well, considering that you are not married and you do not have any serious responsibilities...!"

"Well, you know what I mean!" She shrieked. "When I was ten all I worried about was to finish school successfully... My main worry was to get the best grades I could... And even being lazy I had the best grades in class, because I was always very bright." She moved a hair strand from her face and continued, "Of course that my good grades did not apply to all the subjects... You know, when you are at school you don't have so much to think about, you know? You just come home, do your homework, and if it's not dark already you can still go out to play with your mates in the garden..."

She grabbed a cup from the cupboard and served Mark some tea. At the same time, she continued talking.

"... the only responsibility you have is to be home on time for dinner... And that's what I meant when I said that. Being young and free is to be a child. When you grow up, you'll loose it all!"

Response to Music

2007-03-19T19:15:00.000Z

That day the birds were singing as usual. Mike got up and stretched his arms up high. Everyone was still on their beds sleeping, but he could see the light through the fringes of the windows and that was enough to wake him up. He sat on his bed, where he remained static for few minutes, and watched his nearer room mates sleeping. One had the mouth open, the other had a funny tremble on the arm, the other had his hair in a mess. He smiled. Everyone there was just like him, but they were all different between them too, and these differences there were pretty much invisible.

"I'm SO bored" he thought. "Maybe if I wake up Nigel...."

Nigel was Mike's best friend. He was used to this Summer camp stuff, because he had been there last year as well. For that reason Mike always saw him as an Allie against the unpredictable, which for Mike was everything, really!

"Nigel?", He whispered, knelled down on the waxed floor and shaking his mate carefully on his bed.

Nigel threw something at him, spoke something impossible to understand and turned to the other side. After a few more attempts to wake him up, Mike gave up and decided to do something else that did not involve beds, dorms or polished slippery floors. He headed towards the bathroom, and there, he looked through the large window. It was a lovely day, there were no clouds at sight and the trees were still. It seemed like that day was going to be another perfect Summer day.

Mike washed up his face and looked at the mirror. His hair was as messy as his room mate from the bed behind him. He tried to make it neat, but without a comb there, the task was becoming more like a challenge than anything else. He looked through the window again, and seeing the gardeners pass in front of the dorm, he leaned down to continue unnoticed.

"Man... I am stuck here and outside it seems to be already mid-morning!!", he whispered, probably to his imaginary friend.

The clock in the tower marked 6h58m, but Mike could not know that, he spent most of the primary school days trying to chat up girls rather than paying attention to the "hows" of life, especially the "How to read the time" when he was living in the digital watch Era.

Mike was not authorised to leave the dorm alone. In fact, the dorms' main doors were always locked at 22h by the supervisors, who would then keep the keys in a safe place until the next morning. But Mike did not believe in prisons, he was a free bird, or a free spirit, as he dad used to call him when he reached the end of his tether with Mike's tricks and escapes from his room.

He unlocked the bathroom window, which automatically slided open. His head looked right and left ways, just to make sure that he was not going to get caught.

"All cleared" he whispered to himself, and in one quick motion, he jumped to freedom.

Meanwhile, Nigel had left his bed alerted by the noises in the bathroom and also by the empty bed behind him. He headed towards the bathroom in a very speedy pace, curious to see what was going on. When he got to the bathroom, the window was wide open and he could see a familiar body running away.

"Mike?", he shouted. "MIKE!!!"

He leaned on the window and waved to an already vanished Mike. When the supervisors surprised him in the bathroom, he was seriously compromised...

" NIGEL!!! Get off there immediately!", one of the supervisors shouted.

Still surprised by the whole situation, he could not articulate a word.

"What the hell where you doing? Trying to get hurt or what???" The older supervisor grabbed Nigel's waist and helped him to lean out of the window, adding up in a very serious tone, "There will be no beach for you today. You're going to be at Mrs. Emma's office for the whole morning, facing the wall!"

Nigel, still overwhelmed by the whole situation, started to cry convulsively. The only work he could mention was his friend's name, only understood by the supervisors later on, when they saw Mike's bed empty.

Setting and Space (Week 6)

2007-03-19T17:06:00.000Z

Summer camp was a must! Every Summer, me and my sister used to go there, and later on, one of my two brothers as well. That place was amazing! Away from everything, but near to the essential things, that place leaves a taste of nostalgia on my mouth.

Routine was essential. After settling in, getting the uniform and the rubbery sandals, we would drop our personal stuff in the dorms. Our days usually started quite early, and after breakfast, under cold, rain or sunshine, we used to go to the beach... I remember pretty well the walks we had to give in order to get there, and the almost 5,000 steps of the steep stairs that we had to do just to get to firm but sandy soil.

The Summer camp was a large propriety, owned by the company my dad works for. It had five big dorm houses, each divided by two wings, and within each wing there was a division in the middle, with two rows of beds on the left and two rows of beds on the right side of that space. Two houses and one wing belonged to the boys, who were also given uniforms in red, blue or yellow coloured stripes. The girls were also split between two houses and one wing, and they used uniforms in brown, green or yellow coloured stripes.

In front of the dorms, there was a big park, and in that park there were five big circles made with wooden benches. There was a large playground and a water deposit, where the firemen used to get water from in order to tackle the Summer fires. Each circle belonged to a specific colour, and we used to sit there after our naps, to drink a refreshing orange juice and eat bread with some butter and ham.

Towards south, and after that park, there were two huge football fields and a cement basketball yard. In those fields we used to gather before bed time, and after the night entertainment, which was a small theater were we used to see some cinema. The theater was an annex to the library, the refectories and the showers. The refectories were divided in two big rooms, one for the boys and the other for the girls. They were huge rooms, full of long tables, and we used to have three main meals there: breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Towards East, there were the craft bunkers. The bunkers were usually used in the afternoon, and there we used to play, paint, do some collage or just gathering some dry leaves to do creative work.

I remember well the smells, the colours and the sounds of that place. In the morning there was a fresh scent in the air. The wet soil mixed with the eucalyptus leaves that agitated with the early breeze, enhanced our senses and made us wake up to a new day with joyful disposition. Towards the refectory for breakfast, the fresh morning breeze was suddenly replaced by hot cafe latte smell, which often made us run to the table and beg for more after the first cup.

Heading to the beach, we often had to trek through dusty, Orange soil. There was often in the air a very strong scent of salty water mixed with the wild vegetation surrounding the area. In the beach, there was mainly sunblock in the face, in the shoulders and in the legs - hard not to notice the chemical product.

The place was full of different smells and scents, perfume and sweat, sunblock and shampoo. Each hour of the day meant a different discovery for the nose of the sensitive and perceptive children.

The birds sang night and day, and the loud laugh of the guys playing football at the distance competed with the songs that the girls sung in the park. The trees embracing each other, dropped once in a while a pine or two on the floor to remind us that they were there to play too.

I remember the colours of that place, they are vividly in my memory still. Not only our uniforms were colourful, the whole place was flooded with colour, from the blue in the clear skies to the green on the tall trees. Nature and humans had done a great job with that site. I also remember the white gravel at the entrance, the welcoming carpet of coloured stone right after the the paths of red soil. I remember the dark green eucalyptus leaves on the floor, and the little flowers blossoming in the nearby bushes.

Everything was majestic, from the large houses to the nicely cared gardens, a perfect paradise on Earth!

When I was about to go to the Summer camp, a mist of excitement and fear invaded me. Everything was new, even though the place was not. I would have a supervisor and new room mates, I would be away from my family and my home, it was all daunting at times. However, as soon as I got used to the routine I would totally forget about my anxiety and my fears, and by the last week I would be sad just to think about leaving the place.

***

The night had fallen. Soon enough everyone would be sleeping. Outside one could hear the owls and everything else was silence. We had just returned to the cinema, got on our Pjs and hop into bed after another tiring day, fulfilled by activities and joyful plays. The light had been turned off five minutes ago, and one or two of my room mates were already snoring.

"Man, these kids nowadays can't cope with a full day!" I thought.

The wind whispered smoothly, sneaking through the fringes of the windows. On the other dorm, Mike was in his bed. Head covered by his thin blanket, he was trying to ignore the weird noises, be he couldn't. He was too scared, and he did not want to wake up the supervisors, who slept in a small cubicle, near the entrance door were the sinks were. He was no coward, he thought. How would he look brave, if he had to run to the supervisors every time the owl did "Hu-Huu", or the wooden blinds collided with each other?

But not even him could calm down his heart that was already speeding up like an F1 car aiming for the pole position. Despite his first time on the camp, he enjoyed most of the day. However, two days after, he was already feeling insecure about the whole thing. He was scared. After all, he was a little boy, and thoughts of abandonment or adoption did cross his mind, even if only slightly.

In his own battle against the unknown, he soon realised that there was someone moving towards the bathroom. He peaked through his blanket to see who that was, and he could distinguish a familiar shape in the dark. The bathroom's light was turned on, and when that happened he could feel his heart slow down a bit. In a moment of spontaneous courage, he headed towards the light, slightly shaking and still nervous...

Portrait of a Life (COMPLETE VERSION)

2007-03-15T18:29:00.000Z

“She leaned against Don’s body and asked in a very sexy voice:
“Are
you ready for this?”
“Ready for what?” He replied quite puzzled.
“For
this…” and her hand slid towards his…”

Eileen closed the book abruptly.

“What bullshit!” She threw the book to the other end of the couch and got up feeling extremely bored. She walked her slim body elegantly towards the kitchen, quickly checking the time marked in her cuckoo-clock, meticulously hanging on the corridor’s wall. In the kitchen, she poured some tap water into a glass. While examining every corner of the kitchen, she sipped some water and smiled. Her kitchen was wonderfully decorated in a very modern-chic style.

Eileen spent most of her time in this space, either cooking or just enjoying the sunlight emanating from the windows. A kitchen was definitely one of the most inhabited places in a house, she reckoned. At the same time, she also acknowledged the fact that there was a sort of familiarity in that small space. At her parents’ home, during most of her childhood, the kitchen was the only place that kept the whole family together, even if only for the duration of the main meals…

‘Lunch is ready!’ Her mum would shout as soon as the clock hit 12h30.

Eileen could see it all: the table perfectly set, the small woven square full of bread in the middle, the napkins folded in accurate triangles, her mum in front of the cooker stirring the food. If she called a third time that was usually a bad thing, meaning that lunch would definitely be served along with a huge lecture about how to respect the adults and other intricate ‘blah blah blahs’.

Meal times were always havoc. They started noisily and ended even nosier than before.

‘Mum, she hit me with the spoon,’ her sister would cry. Soon after that, spaghetti would fly across the table straight into Eileen’s forehead.

‘Mummy, he hit me with his foot,’ her younger brother would whinge, while the other would play his most angelic face ever and secretly feed the family’s cocker spaniel under the table with napkins full of tomato sauce – even though he was told not to do so.

Ten years had passed since their last lunch all together. After she moved into her own place, her parents got divorced and her siblings moved on, but they still keep in touch frequently. However, somehow, Eileen was the only one that never seemed to find time to visit or call, as her sister pointed out the last time they met.

She woke up from her thoughts and walked towards the small private library, grabbing on the way the awful book she was attempting to read. Eileen was really proud of her space. She moved between rooms like a queen in her castle, and she always kept every little thing in place in an almost military manner.

‘You never know who might come over by surprise, do you?’ she asked Dru, her cat, who had been named that way because her dad said it was “posh”.

In the library she browsed for an interesting way of spending the next couple of hours, before she started getting ready to go out. She put the book back and grabbed a box that was laid on top of some old dusty books. There was dust accumulated for what seemed years…
‘This is ridiculous! Coughs, Coughs! I bet this place does not see a hoover or something of the sort in years! A person pays a maid for this!’

‘Meow…’ Her cat slid between the doors that were slightly ajar, and looked to Eileen in a very curious way.

She stroke Dru and carried on opening the box. Inside there was a very old book, mouldy cover, smelly scent. ‘I don’t remember having bought this book…’ Her cat rubbed himself against her legs, meowed again and left the room soon after he realised that there was no snack time.
Eileen turned the old book over to check it closely. The cover was worn off, but one could notice that that book had once been, many years ago, a luxurious edition of Jane Austen’s Emma. She opened the book on its first page and read, her left pointer finger sliding the page under the text.

‘Hum… this is old…’

She kept turning the book over, opening the book and admiring the printing quality of a past century. While she was going through the pages, some old photographs fell on the floor. Eileen recognised the photographs. She carefully picked them up and quickly organised them chronologically.

‘I remember this book now…’ Looking at the pictures, she started recollecting memories…

***

‘Help, Help!’ Andrea shouted from the park adjacent to the primary school’s building. For some reason, her foot was stuck between the fence and the Iron Gate that led to the street. Eileen, alarmed by so much shouting, ran in Andrea’s direction.

‘You ok? Oh my God…” As soon as she realised that Andrea was painfully stuck, she ran to the school to call for help.

‘Mrs Cornell! Mrs Cornell!!!’ Eileen was out of breath, and she couldn’t speak, so she pointed to the park and tried to make as much sense out of words as she could… ‘Andrea… stuck… foot… gate…’

When the teacher finally understood what she was trying to say, they both fled to Andrea’s side, and two minutes after Andrea was finally free. The teacher had released her foot skilfully, so there were no nasty marks.

‘Come, Andrea, we still need to take a look at your foot, to see if there was no harm done!’ Mrs Cornell held Andrea’s hand. ‘Eileen, you go and play with your friends now. In a few minutes we’ll call everybody for the group picture outside.’ She paused. ‘Thank you for this.’ The teacher uncombed Eileen’s head in a gesture of appreciation, and Eileen watched them both go inside the school, Andrea looking back at her.

Ever since that episode, their friendship had blossomed. They went through rough times but they always stuck by each other. So many things in common could only result in a great, long-lasting friendship. Or is it?

***

When the photographer’s flash went off, some water flew across the table, soaking Tommy’s hair and suit. On the other side of the table a very enraged Eileen got up, grabbed her purse and left.

‘That fucking moron…’ She mumbled. She also made a mental note NOT to call him ever again, under any circumstance!

The night was very cold and it had been raining, but she couldn’t feel anything apart from an irrepressible need to cry. However, she bit her upper lip continuously and focused on her way home.

‘Thank God I didn’t…’ She covered her face with her hands and released a disappointed growl.

Early that morning Eileen had spoken to Tommy over the phone, and they agreed to have dinner together after work. Tommy and Eileen were always very busy, so their relationship was made of occasional dinners and good sex thereafter. They never mentioned compromise or talked about commitment, although Eileen was eager to make of Tommy ‘an honest man.’

So, when he mentioned he had to tell her ‘something important,’ she immediately thought that he was going to propose. Her face blushed and her heart raced in anticipation. She could not believe it! Tommy was finally going to propose…

As soon as she put the phone down, she started dancing around everyone at the office humming the nuptial march before she decided to call Andrea to give her the news. Andrea was as much excited as Eileen, and they both agreed to take the rest of the day off and go shopping for something nice to wear that night.

When Eileen got into the restaurant, it simply stopped. She was looking stunning in her purple corset and black velvety skirt. Tommy waved from the table and she waved him back. He seemed strangely nervous, and Eileen felt butterflies in her stomach with the thought of becoming ‘Mrs.Cartwright.’

Violins were playing live at the back of the room, and a photographer was going around the tables asking permission to take pictures of the couples enjoying a romantic evening there.

‘I am in love with someone,’ he dropped it after the dessert, like if it was something normal to shatter someone’s dreams, kill all their hope and then, as if it wasn’t bad enough, still add a most outrageous ‘it’s serious.’

‘You fucking bastard!!!’ She yelled.

***

‘I can’t believe he did this!’ Eileen was on the phone with Andrea for the past three hours. She could not stop crying.

‘Well, darling, I know it’s hard. Do you want me to pop by? I have nothing scheduled for tonight; we could rent a video, get some popcorn done, maybe some chocolate Ice-cream…’

Andrea’s playful tone made Eileen’s laugh, even though that was the last thing she wanted to do right now.

‘Oh come one…’ Andrea continued ‘you’re not going to lock yourself at home for the rest of your life, are you? Maybe it is better that way, I mean, that he left you… Because, you know, now the real opportunity for you to be happy starts! You weren’t happy with him anyway!!!’

‘Now I am not happy either…’ Eileen was struggling to wipe her tears from her face, since they were falling four by four. ‘Can I pop over to yours instead?’ she almost begged. ‘This place is full of his stuff, and I just can’t cope with having to pack it all tonight.’

‘Sure! Come over then. I’ll put the kettle on!’

Twenty minutes after, Eileen was knocking at Andrea’s door. She rang the bell three times but no one answered it. The afternoon had long gone, but the sky was still bright blue and the sun refused to go to bed, its rays hot and magical, its light spreading happiness and the perspective of better days to come.

Eileen took her phone out of her purse and tried to ring her friend but her phone was in voicemail. She dried her still wet face and put on a very yellow smile. The sun was blinding her, her boyfriend had dumped her and now her friend was not at home… strangely she wasn’t upset.

The sun burning her cheeks, the gentle breeze caressing her face, it all fell into place somehow. Nature was there for her, and she felt she was not alone. Still with her mobile phone in her hand she snapped a picture of the blue sky.

‘Blue is the colour of peace’ she thought, feeling a mist of anxiety and uneasiness. ‘Now…where did that chick go?’ she mumbled distressed. ‘She’s not the kind of person to stand up on me.’
Ten minutes after revolving through her purse she found Andrea’s back door’s key.

‘Ah, Ah! I knew I had it!’

She walked towards the back of the house, but when she was about to open the back gate, she heard Tommy’s voice. She immediately leaned down, peaking through the bushes. He was having an argument with Andrea, who was pushing him away from her.

‘Andrea…. Love…. Be… please…’ Tommy seemed to be begging? To Andrea?

‘No… friend… you… not… leave…’ Andrea’s voice seemed very disturbed.

‘What the fuck…?’ Eileen then knew who Tommy was seeing. She couldn’t believe it. Not Andrea, from all the people, not her best friend, please! She left the place as soon as she could, trying to remain unnoticed, and drove away full speed.

***

Eileen stopped the car abruptly at the edge of Cape Espichel. She was breathing heavily and her hands were shaking. From the distance she could identify the lighthouse, on top of the dangerous cliff that she knew so well. In this place she could also see the sky touch the sea, whilst the pale sun set on the already dim horizon. Another day has passed without a sense of fulfilment or belonging to this place. However, she loved to go there, either to think about her life or to admire the mystical beauty of that site. Today she was there for another reason though.

She opened the car door and slowly slid her body across the seat towards the windy outside. Her hair, tugged by the strong gusts of wind, seemed the sharp flames of an uncontrolled fire. She was wearing her best suit. Executive cut, and black, because black made her thinner – as she often used to say to her best friend Andrea, on a night out. She closed the car’s door with her foot and headed towards the edge of the cliff. The wind threw tiny little particles of sand to her face. The nearer she got to the cliff’s edge, the harder it was to keep her eyes open.

She grabbed her digital camera and tried to position it in a way so that she could appear in the photograph too. She leaned towards the edge dangerously, and although her weight caused the soil to fragment slowly, Eileen knew she was safe. Before she moved closer to the edge, she cleverly stuck her foot between two large rocks just to avoid any hazardous outcome. She needed to take that picture, no matter what.

'click'

‘There!’ She was clearly proud, her smile wide open, her body excited by the adrenalin of this whole adventure.

Little rocks fell down the abyss as she returned back to a safer, firmer spot. She stretched her arms and closed her eyes, inhaling the salty smell of the sea and relaxing at the distant sound of the waves splashing against the rocks below with violence. The last beams of sunshine soon disappeared but she waited until total darkness covered the cape before she decided to go back to the car.

Walking towards her car, she noticed that there were two more cars parked, both occupied by young couples. That was no surprise, she thought to herself. At the beginning of the night, it was common knowledge that young couples preferred the area’s natural darkness to add up some spice to their sexual life. Even Eileen had experienced that burst of sexuality in the back of Tommy’s car. Eileen smiled at the remembrance of it. Of course they could get caught and that would mean spending the night trying to explain themselves, semi-naked, in the nearest police station… But to be true, Police only showed up there every time there was a suicide. Apart from that, they seemed not to care, perhaps because the place is quite remote from the nearest village and the road access is a complete nightmare...

***

‘Yes, those were the bad days…’ She smiled.

People often say that our family’s love is the only love we will ever experience throughout life. Maybe that is true. No one will ever love us like our parents or siblings do, not even our partner or our closer friends. We cannot choose the one we love, instead, love chooses us.

Eileen hid the photographs back in the book, put the book in the box and stored it up high. Somehow, putting away these pictures was like a karma ritual to keep bad thoughts away of her mind. Tommy married Andrea and they now had a lovely baby boy. Eileen recovered the relationship with her family, and they now get together at least once a week to catch up on things. Tonight she had another special reason to meet them all: it was her 30th Birthday.

In the restaurant, Eileen was the focus of all attention. Her family was there for her; despite everything, she was not alone indeed. She smiled, observing all the familiar faces with detail, a sense of warmth and calm invading her heart. That was true love.

‘CLICK!’

The End

Pictures in the Mind (Week 6)

2007-03-01T22:01:00.000Z

“6th Birthday”

That day the sun got up as strong as ever. It was 10 a.m. but the heat was already high enough to fry an egg in the middle of a motorway. Summer was hitting hard, there was no doubt about it… August is always like that: hot, really hot, and the smell of sweat, melt tarmac and CO2 invades the air uninvited. However, that didn’t seem to bother anyone in the house. Mum had been setting up the tables in the living-room since morning, dad had gone to the cake shop, granny and grandpa were outside in the garden, under the pine tree, enjoying what was left of the already weak morning breeze. Picture perfect!

When Sarah was woken up with cheerful and enthusiastic good mornings, she knew that her special day had arrived! She jumped out of the bed in one quick movement and went straight to the bathroom where in a clumsy attempt to refresh and wash herself, she ended up getting her clothes soaked in water, hair dripping, and a bathroom floor looking more like a pool than anything else.

“I am allowed today”, she thought. Her cheeky grin on her face said it all.

“Who can resist that?” she enquired the image in the mirror while combing her hair and tie it at the back with the new scrunchy her mum gave her. “Perfect!”

She left the bathroom, leaving the wet towels on the floor, between delicate jumps over imaginary puddles of foamy water. When she got to the kitchen, her mum was too busy to serve her breakfast. Sarah sat unimpressed at the kitchen table, and waited. She waited 10 minutes. 20 minutes. 30 minutes.

“MUM!” she called.

“One minute,” mum replied.

Ten minutes later, she shouted again.

“DAD!”

“A second!” dad replied.

Ten minutes later, she was already tired of waiting. She jumped out of the chair and went towards the garden. Miuh, her cat, briefly saluted her with a very cute meow, but shortly after she ran out to the garden.

“Even you abandon me, evil cat!” Sarah was really upset. She thought that everyone had forgotten her birthday! No attention, no presents and, worse of all, no cake…

“Bugger!” The thought of not having a cake was extremely painful.

Sarah was fed up of that indifference. Even her grandparents had disappeared from the garden now! This was shameful!

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH” she screamed at her full lung power. Then she grabbed a little stone lying on the path and threw it against the pine tree trunk.

“No one cares if I am dying!” she realised after no one came to check out on her and on all that shouting.

Sarah surrendered. She was too tired. Her stomach was painfully hungry now, and she was determined to get her breakfast… Or lunch… Whatever!!!! She stormed in through the living-room’s door, and opened her mouth as if she was about to say something. Nothing came out. She could not speak!

“SURPRISEEEEEEE!”

Her mum, her dad, her brothers and sister, her grandparents, her neighbours, even her schoolmates managed to get in without she even notice! The tables were gorgeously decorated, under the tables there were packages of all forms and sorts, sweets all over the place… and the cake… oh the cake! It had the shape of a fairy, and it was soooo big!
“Birthdays are great!” she thought whilst she blew up the candles… “I wish I could have birthdays everyday!”…

Out of sight, Out of Mind (Free Writing Exercise, Week 5)

2007-03-01T22:00:00.000Z

“That’s it!” She thought, whilst packing her old suitcase with some of her most used clothes, “I am out of here!”

She had decided that she was going to leave her family, Mike, her supposedly friends-that-only-call-when-they-have-no-one-to-go-out-with, her disastrous life story.
She had thought about it several times before, if only she had had the courage though! Or the means (which in posh language means dosh, loads of dosh). But her big break never came… It never came.

She stopped packing her bag and sat at the edge of her old single bed. She looked up at the ceiling, and then down to the worn off carpet under her feet. What was she complaining for? Her big break was there, now, ready to grab or hug or to squeeze, whichever the handiest, whichever the easiest.

But she knew that the worse bit would have to be leaving her puppy at the mercy of her family’s charity. They have always liked pets, but her dog was her responsibility. She bought him, she took him to the vet, it was in her pocket that he preferred to sleep, all curled up on her hand. Suddenly she feels sad. Her face, taken by the seriousness of her feelings, becomes strangely long and pale.

She had made her mind up; it was too late to go back now. She didn’t want to bump into Mike, or into Mike’s wife for that matter. She aimed to a better life, high standards, loads of opportunities and never-ending experiences.

At the end of the day, she was no child anymore and even birds fly off their nests when they get bigger. She’s just following the course of nature… What if…? Maybe she’s making the nature course take its toll too easily. After all she is still a child, even if only in her spirit.

“I must really go”, she finished packing her last clothes in silence, closed her bag tightly, and took it to the entrance of her childhood nest. At the main door, no one was waiting to say goodbyes, only her dog stood there, between her and the door, as in an attempt to prevent her from leaving him.

She leaned down and held him. A tear rolled her face while she kept the small dog against her chest. She then put the dog on the floor, and left, closing the door violently behind her.
From then on, Barbara knew that now her life would be only her responsibility, and no one else’s. Maybe taking Mike out of her sight for good was not such a bad idea!

Grandma (Week 5)

2007-02-24T22:27:00.000Z

“ V’torica!” Called my husband from the living-room, a small space only distinguished from the kitchen thanks to the divider put in the middle of that squared space. Sometimes I think he believes I have nothing else to do but to give him my full attention. Very honestly, he leaves in the morning and comes back at night, many times smelling like cheap wine, and then he expects to have everything done for him. Dinner must be on the table, shirts must be ironed and clean… In a lifetime together, I have learned to deal with it, and I perfected myself. I love him; it’s more like a good friendship, but with some thorns… I am content, though. After all I married him, some good I must have seen on him.

“What is it, huh!? Do you think I have nothing else to do?”

My life is sometimes too tiring. I wake up, open the window, and push the bed sheets back to let the bed breathe. Then, I wash myself, get dressed, make the bed and go to the market. I used to do this alone. My elder son has died of lung cancer, my other son is married and has his own life, and even my daughter got married a few years ago. My husband is either working or at the pub with his friends… But now I have a company. My life has changed totally after my granddaughter was born…

“Nana, look here, I did it all myself!”

My granddaughter is an angel look-a-like girl. She reminds me my daughter when they were about the same age. She can spend the whole afternoon entertained with nothing but a paper and a pen, or her dolls and board-games. I know that it is not good for her to stay at home the whole time, and that’s why I always go to the market once in a while. I know she loves it. And she loves even more to go for a neighbourhood tour.
Being with her makes me feel like I’m a mum again. And she is a sweetheart, she never gives any trouble. I know that she is going to go far…

“I’m off to the Chinese. I’ll be back for dinner”

And there he goes again, and what’s even worse, he’s going to that dodgy pub. Always going out, hardly spends time with me. Never did anyway. He never helped, never asked, never showed interest in the house. I don’t allow that either.
My house is my kingdom. I actually like when he goes away and leaves me alone for a couple of hours. But living in solitude was not what I bargained for when we decided to get married. When I am alone at night I am scared. I know he is only in the pub downstairs, but he won’t be there for me. He never was. And now, with the child, it would nice if he could just stay around.

"School Life" (Week 4)

2007-02-15T16:01:00.000Z

When she went into the classroom, her hands were sweating, and she was obviously shaking. It was the third time she had to endure such feelings, considering that she had already been in two other schools before.

“I hate this”, she thought to herself, whilst feeling uneasy and shy beyond her classmates curiosity and staring looks.

This constant change in her life was very hard to cope with. She had to build friendships from scratch and she was not good at that. Her self-esteem was not the best and because she was so sensitive and special, the majority of her classmates would end up mocking at her for some stupid, tiny reason. But not all was bad… There were always two or three girls that would end up talking to her, some would actually end up being her best friends, and even the constant bullying she had to go through daily was a second plan story when she got together with her friends.

She sat down at the nearest free table, right in front of the teacher’s desk. She was always a good student, maybe because she didn’t talk much during class, or maybe because she didn’t have anyone to talk to during class. That year things would be different though. She had made a resolution: no one would make her feel like Susana, she would not succumb to the fear of being beaten; she would not let anyone humiliate her in front of her high school sweetheart (whoever he was).

Truth is that she knew her sister would sit next to her this year. After dropping out of the chemistry specialisation, she decided to move to her sister’s high school. It was nearer from home and she would always have someone to be with in case she didn’t find any suitable friends. However things didn’t turn out as she expected. Her best friend was in a different class; her sister was in a denial process.

But despite adversity, she could still find time to smile that day. It was a nervous smile, used to hide the secret fear she had of being rejected for what she was.

“Right…”, she thought “I am well dressed, I am beautiful and clever… I will make it through this.” After that class, there was always a 10 minute break. There was always her best friend, or the canteen, or the library (although she would never go there, because it was side by side with the teachers’ room).

When the teacher released them from their classroom prison, she was the last one to leave. She was always careful not to leave anything behind, because she didn’t want to ask mummy for another pencil, or another pen. She knew that mummy had to ask daddy for money and that would most likely result in a fight between them. She didn’t want to be the reason why her parents fought.

Outside the day was mild and sunny. It was Autumn, but the Summer weather refused to go away. She took a deep breath and walked towards her best friend, who was already waiting on a bench next to Block C.

"My childhood bed" ( Week 2)

2007-02-11T14:51:00.000Z

Joanna threw the dusty books on the floor, and started to move all the junk around it. In that semi-dark attic she discovered her childhood once again, but the best finding was, without a doubt, that thing. It was still standing, a bit damaged and rusty, perhaps due to the old age, but strong and beautiful like the first day Joana saw it. She coughed. She had been inhaling nostalgia and dust since she entered that place. But she didn’t care, not anymore. She touched the metal frame and smiled. She knew why the mattress was not the bed’s original one… That was because she used to jump on it, up and down, many times, too often. One day, she jumped too high and nearly broke her head in the ceiling of her room, and her mum came running from the kitchen, worried sick, but with the usual “I told you so.”

How she was always right all the time was still a mystery for her. Even her, mum of two now, cannot be as accurately right as her own mum was. Poor mum… What she had suffered because of that bed… Joanna smiled again.

After that episode her mother bought her a new mattress, an orthopaedic one, no strings just hard wood. Well, not exactly hard wood, but you know what I mean! Every time she used to lay down her bones on the new mattress she felt like she was sleeping on the floor rather than on a bed. No fun anymore there…

Until her sister discovered that her head could pass to the other side of the head of the bed, right between the horizontal iron bars. Joanna thought that her head was as small as a 5-year-old, despite she was 13. She and her sister always had this rivalry whilst children, always fighting for everything, always caring for attention. That didn’t happen anymore, they were both linked by blood and friendship, but they both had their own lives as well, nothing more to prove to anyone apart themselves.

And once again, the usual… her mum came running from the kitchen, worried sick, but with the usual “I told you so.” They had to call someone to cut the steel from the head frame, and she carried two parallel red marks on her neck for nearly a fortnight.

Her mum was always in the kitchen. She reckons because that was the warmest place in the house. At the end of the afternoon, the sun would hit that room and invade it with light and warmth. But it could be that she spent most of her life cooking for the family… Or ironing. The kitchen was the meeting point for the whole family that was the truth.

Joanna touched the head frame, sliding her fingers by the space where the two iron bars once were and smiled.

“I was really naughty,” she said out loud.

Then, she labelled it with the number 35, and left. Two days later, the bed was moved to an auction room, where it was sold to a family with a small child, Catharine.

Joanna was sad to see the bed leave, but she knew that her past would never come back again, the same way her bed would never be used by her again. It was only fair that someone else could enjoy it the same way she once did.

“Life goes on!” She thought, after her old childhood bed disappeared from sight.

"Hot Ice-Cream" (Week 1)

2007-01-31T11:25:00.000Z

I loved that ice-cream. Everytime my father suggested we should go for a "hot Ice-cream", my eyes sparkled. To eat that ice-cream would mean going to the capital, going for a ride on daddy's car, check new sites, new places... Doing something unusual. For a child who spent most of the week at home with mother, it was quite exciting to jump out of the routine, even if that means spending most of the time quiet not to provoke upset dad or angry dad.

When the landscape changed, my brothers and my sister could not contain their natural instinctive "oh"s and "ah"s. I remained many times quiet. Just admiring the movement of the things while the car moved itself towards the unknown, or the clouds in the sky changing form. I always kept to myself my considerations, although as a child it was somehow hard to keep to myself the amount of different feelings I was going through. Mostly scared.

I always like patterns of routine in my life, I still do. Moving from one place to another is always a headache, really affects me hard in a way that often makes me freak out... It's the change. I studied that in school and I know why I resist so much to change. I resist to change because I am scared, because I do not know what is beyond that.

So, when my dad used to take me and my brothers and sister for a "Hot Ice-cream" I always expected something unknown, I always knew that routine would be broken. But it wasn't as bad as the changes I went through in my life until now. It wasn't that bad, because at the end there was always a sweet vanilla ice-cream waiting for me, in the shape of a rectangle, and melted down by the sweet brown hot chocolate poured on top of it.