Gifts

Another day of writing! I embraced as much as possible the little time that writer’s block is mercifully giving me before it decides to return. I think I got some good quality writing done, but it dawned on me afterwards that, despite the fact that it’s a short story, I’m only still in the beginning. I’m now five pages in, which is actually legitimate progress for me.

Speaking of “writer’s block”, check out what my aunt bought me!

Here’s an extract of what I wrote today:

“Look mate, you’ve gotta understand what I’m sayin’ here,” my friend, Edward, was sayin’ the next day. “If that bloody table wasn’t in the way, I would’ve offered the bottom of my hoof to Frederick’s large forehead!”

Ed was a dear friend of mine. He is one of the few genuine horses I met in the military, and the only one who would defend me against stallions like Frederick. We would look out for each other, but today Ed didn’t need my assistance at all, he perfectly toppled over a table of guns all by himself in an attempt to apparently kick Frederick’s forehead.

“He thinks he can get cheeky with me, the bloody tosser! What kind of a horse is he, anyway?” demanded Ed, as I was eating my hay. Ed came all the way from Britain, so he tends to use words that American horses, like myself, aren’t familiar with and certain words in unusual contexts. His favourite seems to be “bloody”.

“Seriously, you lost me somewhere around ‘tosser’?” I said, trying to hold in my laughter at Ed’s fourth rant this week.

“It means he’s a sod, a git, a pillock, a bloody prat!” yelled Ed, clarifying everything I didn’t understand in life.

“Look, it’s done, man. You have to let it go. One day his… ‘cheekiness’ will get him into real trouble and he will finally learn his lesson,” I said, trying to calm Ed down. “He’s bigger than both of us as well, so we wouldn’t have stood a chance against him.”

“You think he’s strong?!” Ed retorted. “If he ever came to England, he would be a slapper compared to the mares down there.”

“Doesn’t ‘slapper’ mean tramp?” I asked, perplexed.

“Oh come on, Nick. It means tart!” he answered, as if that helped my comprehension of his vocabulary. “Anyway, finish your hay, I’m knackered.”

“Don’t let your anger rush my food!” Now I was annoyed.

“You’re so busy with your food, you were barely listenin’ to what I’ve been sayin’!” he said, looking truly distressed.

“Of course I was!” I was. “And to answer your earlier question, rhetorical or not, I heard that Frederick is a French horse.”

“I knew it! I never liked the French.”

My sister bought me this 🙂

My family have all come round, aunties and cousins, to do a little celebration for my birthday. It’s really nice seeing them all in Ramadhan. I don’t usually get presents, but this year I got a lot: an expensive watch, as I had predicted, and an Iphone 4, as I mentioned in the last post. The others are in the photograph below. (The large girly birthday card is a silly joke my friends unleashed on me).

A Batman poster from my brother 🙂

My best birthday ever was my fifteenth actually. Remember the great man I mentioned in the last post? And the post before that? He took me and my family to Thorpe Park and it was just awesome. I’ve now got to entertain my guests, so till tomorrow, I guess.