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Personal Imaginative Writing

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The Day I Met Mr Dean Hughes. My head popped up immediately, my brain fully awake and my eyes scanning the room for the source of the alarm. Think! Oh, of course. My phone. But where was it? Why did I insist on setting my alarm every morning knowing full well I would turn it off and fall straight back to sleep? Click. Thank God that had stopped. I felt extremely exhausted, yet again. Ten more minutes could not make much difference...surely. 11:00am. Click. 11:30am. Click. 12:00pm. Click. Oh God, I was going to have to hurry. Danielle would be here in less than 40 minutes. For any normal person, that would be more than enough time to be in suitable attire and condition for company. For me on the other hand, I was struggling with the notion of having less that an hour and a half to wash, dry and straighten my hair. Thirty-eight minutes later, the door bell rang. No need to guess who that would be. And my hair made me look like I was some kind of messy, furry rodent. I was beginning to wish I could just go back to bed. ...read more.


"Mother ship!" Another laugh. "Please?" I couldn't be bothered to argue and, hell, stalking - I mean talking - to complete strangers was usually pretty fun. So off we went. Perhaps this was the decision responsible for the creepiest thirty minutes of my life? "Why is he looking at us?" She asked. "Because we're pointing and laughing at him while guessing his name?" Still, he was pretty weird. We both began uncontrollable giggling. I wondered if I'd ever get tired of being this weird and immature. Not likely. He was just an innocent thirty-something year old man trying to use public transport. Innocent. "Oh for goodness sake. Come on, he's such a freak." "He's not- okay, why is he laughing?" My voice turned into a whisper. "What the hell? Is he laughing at us? Okay, he is definitely laughing at us. Oh my goodness. He has no social etiquette at all. You can't just join in someone's conversation or laugh at their jokes. You could at least introduce yourself." The bus stopped again. Only a few more stops and then we would be free to run as far away as possible. Almost everyone left the bus. Why did everyone always get off at the same stop? ...read more.


or I could kick him in such a place that most men would double over in pain. It took a lot of willpower to smile along with Danielle. Well, to be honest, I was still a little amused. It was times like these when I understood why I got strange looks from almost everyone I knew. He was clearly very desperate. Poor man. As I watched him asking every single person at the bus stop to lend him a pen, I began imagining his life. No kids. No job. Ex-wife took everything he had ever held dear. Including his cat of eight years. "Here you go! Call me, yeah!" Oh, great. All pity was gone and replaced by anger as the sound of his voice shot out once again. "Yeah." I can honestly say I've never been more relieved to be walking down a random street in my life. By far the strangest bus experience so far. Strange, strange man. I went to throw it away only to be reprimanded by Danielle. I sighed. It was true, we probably would end up calling him. Not meeting up or anything like that, we were not stupid, but just to have some fun. I entered the number into my phone with another sigh and threw the piece of paper into the nearest bin. ...read more.

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