Tuesday, August 4, 2009

Olivia Dennis - TAKE 2 - Part 1


Olivia Dennis is an ambitious young writer who is studying Creative Writing at RMIT University. Though most of the time, she thinks her writing is "a bit shit", she still manages to produce beautifully crafted lives and events from blank pages.

To my great dismay (and joyful delight!) I had to replace my previous post on Olivia Dennis' writing due to a pending submission elsewhere on that particular work.

What has replaced it is a two part story that she has written especially for this blog:

My hands were frozen, shaking with the fucking lighter and blue with the fucking breeze. It all smelt so dirty around here, the rain tainted, the grass growing dead. I felt bad, I did, but I also...well, I also couldnt really give a damn, to be honest. Thats me; morally selfish...or just selfish, actually. They'd figure out our departure soon anyway, and not care about our return for another few weeks, at least. They might worry, but I highly doubt it; no-one really did around here. I shook the lighter in my hands, my unlit rollie hanging from my lips as I pathetically attempted to light the damn thing. It did, eventually. I inhaled. Exhaled. Drag. Drag. Exhale. I was squatted on those lone benches in the middle of the park, waiting for him to come back. If we're being frank, the extended view actually looked alright; the city was being puppeteered by a full moon, dimly lit and glowing for a few miles to the east, and minus three miles to the west. The immediate surrounds were fucking dire, yes, but I guess I could see the beauty in far away...the romanticism. I turned around and called out to Harry. Where the fuck was he? My rollie was getting limp and soggy from the rain and I had no shelter to hide under. The tree's were all leaking shit as well, so I couldnt hide out under them (other than the rollie, none of this really mattered anyway...my hair was pissing all down my back and my broken loafers had soaked through already so...). I called again. Probably having a wank, I thought, or shagging that girl from earlier in the night, secretely in the fucking bushes. I pulled my watch out from my pocket and checked the time. As long as we're gone by 7...

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