More hotpenning!

Lying in bed this morning, I was in need of some inspiration. A quick text to my friend John and I have three more little hotpenning projects to keep me busy. Thanks John!

Number 1 - Boris and the suet ball stealer 

My rat seemed strangely distracted this morning. Usually, having been up all night Boris would be curled up in a tight little ball in his hammock, dreaming of tunnels and ropes and probably girl rats - he was entering into those rebellious teenage years. This morning however, he was alert, his little nose twitching into thin air. He had obviously had quite an evening; his home was in complete disarray, as if in homage to Tracey Emin. Chuckling to myself I I wondered whether this was the result of a fit of rage, or an illegal rave. My mind imaging a string of street rats sneaking up the stairs, and tapping a secret knock, desperate to be let in to 'the' party. Boris didn't strike me as the trendy sort, for a starter I had named him Boris, then again maybe he had a pseudonym, Boris by day Pierce by night? Gosh, I know where he gets his day dreaming habit from, I've been rat fantasising for 20 minutes! 

Anyway, something was bothering him. Bending down to meet his eye line, I tried to follow his gaze. Desk, half completed painting, half a curtain, doodles, poetry book I really must finish, oddly fashioned lumps of clay. I should cut Boris some slack, my room wasn't much better. Surely my mess wasn't distressing him? Oh wait, I bet it's that Squirrel! 

"Have you never noticed our resident suet ball stealer?"

Eager for him to get a closer look, I lifted Boris into my arms and tiptoed to the window. 

"He's a right monkey that one; always scaring away the birds to steal their food, jumping about and digging up the garden. Actually I shouldn't confuse you, he's a squirrel not a monkey. Though some people call them tree rats, but that's a bit derogatory."

Ignoring my wittering, Boris was captivated, his eyes darting back and forth following the squirrels leaps and scurries amongst the tree branches and along the fence. Pulling his eyes away for a moment, he looked back at his home. It seemed so small, so insignificant. His heart sank, it would never feel the same. A deep yearning filled him, and he struggled in my arms. I was too trusting, I'd had let him on the window sill before, only this time he would jump! 

(I think this is the first time I have written a story with two characters from the first person perspective - it's quite difficult)

Number 2 - The Golden Goblin

With a leap and a bound he was on top of me, a random little grasshopper, tricked by my yellow sundress. I could almost sense his disappointment. 

The little grasshopper wandered around sporadically. "This is no flower! It isn't even edible! OH NO, OH NO, IT'S A TRAP!". Clarence's mind raced back to that scary night round at Godfrey's. It had been his first sleepover and his friends, seemingly more daring than him had suggested ghost stories. He quivered at the memory of those ghastly tales, told in the meagre light of a single fire fly. Each had been worse than the last, and then Godfrey told his tale. He hadn't slept a wink that night, and his parents had been quite alarmed by his nervous demeanor the following morning. The truth is, four years had passed but that tale had never really left him. He had told himself time and time again, it's not real, it's just some stupid tale the grown ups made up to scare us young ones out of having fun, It's all just a nasty load of rubbish. But his mantra had failed him. Terror stricken he froze. The Golder Goblin had got him!

(I think this story could have a second installment! Who and what is this Golden Goblin? I will get the old cogs working on it)

I have ran out of time, so pop back tomorrow for the third and perhaps more Golden Goblin!

Bye 

Maria x