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U3A Writing: Last Request

Oh dear, Rose Perry. There you go again, dozing in the Creative Writing class.

I can't believe it! This canít be happening to me! After all, I only forgot to do my homework once, or maybe it was twice; or was it more times than that? No matter how many times it happened, it really isn't a crime! At least, that is what I tell myself. At my stage of life I can be forgiven for memory lapses. I know many people who have them, and they don't even go to Creative Writing Sessions!

Our instructor is so mean that during some sessions she gives us only ten minutes to write a story. This certainly isn't long enough. We need at least an hour or more to collect our thoughts before we even lay pen to paper. I must admit that it is the collecting of my thoughts which is the most difficult at this time of my life. (I am usually most adept at collecting things, and have such a house full of "stuff" these days that I need help to sort it all out, so I can't possibly leave this scene at this time because my family will not appreciate being left with the task of sorting my junk.) I also find that the projects she sets for us, such as putting adjectives and nouns together in a sentence, are sometimes beyond my capacity. As it is so long since I attended any school, it's only fair to make allowances for me.

This morning I arose from my bed to watch the sunrise. When I saw the beauty of this wonderful panorama, I thought to myself, "This makes life worth living!" I determined from that moment to always rise early each day to ensure that I started the day right. I came to Creative Writing class this morning, thinking what a wonderful life this is, and even found a parking spot waiting for me close to the meeting room, under shelter too; and now, look what has happened, just because of one teeny weeny lapse. I have to face the firing squad at 11.30am today.

Well, I hope I won't be the only one with this problem. Alas, there is no-one else to suffer this fate; just me, alone! Maybe I will receive a reprieve, or a pardon, or even a light sentence if I promise never to lapse again. Some people I have read about in newspapers, who have committed some mini offence, have been instructed to do Community service for a specified time. Maybe this is what will happen! This would be no bother to me at all because I enjoy visiting older people and making cups of tea for them and helping them to enjoy their lives. I can even sweep floors and wash dishes, and have been known to clean toilet blocks in the past, so I am sure that there would be a project just for me.

This can't be real! But it is! And here comes the Firing Squad, and how ugly they are. No wonder they do this job! It does look like pistols they are holding, so they really mean business. Now the blindfold is placed around my eyes and tied at the back of my head. I won't be allowed to look at my co-students while this operation is carried out.

"A last request?" the Instructor asks.

"Will it be enough for me to say "I'm sorry! I won't do it again!" I ask. Unfortunately that isn't going to work!
"You certainly won't be doing it again." she says, "No more chances for you for your incompetence."

So the time has really come. No more sunrises, or sunsets for that matter! I stand there waiting for the sound of the cocking of the pistols, but nothing happens. Then I feel a wet patch on my chest, I think that a silencer must have been used and the bullet must have missed a vital spot. But I feel no pain. What is happening then? Am I dead? But I am still standing! I am waiting. No one speaks! There is complete silence! Then comes the sound of laughter! The joke's on me!

Then the blindfold is removed. To my relief and amusement, I discover that each of the firing squad are holding, yes, you guessed it, water pistols. I promise I will never, never lapse again! I promise, I prom.. Then I wake up.

I will never fall asleep in class again!


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