[stylist] A deafblind girl (chapter 1)
helene ryles
dreamavdb at googlemail.com
Sat Sep 5 19:56:19 UTC 2009
Hi Shelley, Thanks very much for correcting all that. I'm glad
youliked it. By trimmings I meant the collar was fur, but decided to
change fur trimmings to a long fur coat. Is that any better?
I'll send you chapter two in another email. I notice this is being
done in the group so I'll send chapter 2 to the group as well. Is that
ok with everyone?
Helene
On 05/09/2009, Shelley J. Alongi <qobells at roadrunner.com> wrote:
> HI Helene, Here are the suggestions in the chapter I promised I'd send you.
> Hope to see more work. Shelley
>
> Chapter 1:
> A testimony by Fiona the fader (8th June, 1997)
>
> It’s not every day you witness a mother attempt to murder her child in
> a public place. So naturally the police assumed I was making the whole
> scene up, but I will stick to what I saw. I'll swear to it in court if
> only someone would take my word seriously.
> My working companion and I were selling flying carpet rides beside
> Stilosarka underground railway station, when the attempted murder took
> place.
> “Come on folks! Ten dren for a ride on our magical flying
> carpet!” my companion shouted as various people passed us. I’m a very
> quiet gal, so I let my companion do all the shouting, and I just
> operate the carpet.
> Our enterprise had gotten off to a flying start when I spotted
> an undersized,
> malnourished child. She was wearing thick glasses that greatly
> magnified her frightened eyes. She was grey-skinned like us, and
> dressed in boy’s clothes, but I later learnt she was a girl called
> Nadia Murat.
> Despite her tiny size I could tell she was much older then she
> looked. It made me wonder if she was one of us.
> Nadia was being dragged along by a gaudy hard-faced woman, wearing fur
> trimmings. (Not sure about the fir trimmings maybe describe them to the
> reader.)
> "Want a ride? It normally costs 10 dren but I can reduce it to 5
> dren for you" I told Nadia in sign language. I figured she was deaf
> as I had spotted her cochlear implant. I was quite keen to practice
> my signing skills with her.
> "My son doesn't sign!" Nadia’s mother told me tartly.
> "Yes I do," the child contradicted in sign language. She gave a yelp
> of pain as her mother pinched her. The woman yanked her away from us as if
> we had some sort of contagious disease.
> I bristled. (Nice word bristled; I haven't seen it in a while.) Who did this
> woman think she was? I am a mother too, and
> I can manage my brood without hurting them in the process. I don’t
> hold with that sort of thing.
> "Be quiet. Witches like that have absolutely no dignity. Look how
> dirty they are. They aren't even wearing shoes!” I overheard the woman
> say, as the child was dragged off to the side of a sheer drop into the
> underground station below.
> "We don't need that thing today. Today you are going to jump."
> The woman announced. She was referring to a long greasy pole that
> some people used for sliding down into the station below.
> I had been about to let on my next group of passengers but I indicated
> that they should wait. I had a shrewd suspicion I would be needed for
> other things. I watched Nadia and the woman closely just to see what
> would happen next.
> "What!" Nadia cried.
> "You heard what I said. I'm sick to death of you and your pathetic
> little ways. Your father and I are both witches so you must have
> inherited our witchcraft too. So come along now. We're late"
> I witnessed the wicked witch cast a concealment charm. It stops
> most people from noticing anything suspicious. I’m very
> familiar with that particular spell as I use it quite frequently
> myself and so do my kids. As a result I’ve grown quite immune to the
> affect.
> I saw the woman discreetly shove Nadia over the sheer drop, into
> the station below.
> Nadia gave an ear-piercing scream as her body hurtled towards the
> ground. She was definitely not floating in the way that witches
> normally do. I dived over the side of the drop myself. Grabbing
> Nadia's shirt, I slid an arm around her waist as
> she floated downwards at a less scary rate. Despite the rapid
> deceleration the child gave a cry of pain as her body hit the ground.
> "I'd use the pole in future, if I were you. You are obviously not a
> witch," I advised on landing. I was trying to lighten things up a bit,
> but by the stunned look on her face I don’t think she had taken in
> what I had said at all. She stared in horror at the remains of
> her cochlear implant which was now smashed on the platform near her
> feet.
> “I’ve already told you that he doesn’t use sign language. Be off
> and mind your own business before I call the police.”
> “I make it my business when people try to murder their children.”
> I retorted. This woman had a right nerve. I felt it should be me who
> was threatening her with the police after what I had just witnessed.
> Just then a pale-skin police woman, with long ginger hair,
> grabbed my upper arm. She wore the dark red uniform of the Darthrilan
> police force.
> I started. I'd been so intent on saving the child, then arguing with
> the mother that I
> hadn’t even noticed the police appear on the scene.
> “It’s her you should be arresting not me!” I told her pointing to
> where the woman and child had been. They were no longer there. The
> woman had literally yanked the child off her feet and ran. They boarded a
> train that had just pulled into the station.
> “Never you mind. We want to know where your trading licence is.”
> The police
> woman replied tartly.
> “But I do mind very much. Aren’t police officers supposed to do
> something when parents start murdering their kids in public places?”
> “That’s enough; we don’t have time to listen to your stories today.
> We want to know where your licence is.”
> The police are obviously discriminating against me because I'm only
> three foot seven inches high and a fader (meaning I can vanish at
> will), but I'll admit fading is a notoriously unstable branch of
> magic.
> I feel ever so worried about that girl. I am determined to find
> out more about her, and offer her my protection. I'm certainly not
> going to let the matter rest until I see justice done.
> (I changed a few sentneces from the passive voice to the active voice and
> changed the sentence "I was determined" to "I am determined" to match the
> tense used in the sentence before it which says "I feel eve so worried about
> that girl." Just watch the past verses the present tense. The story moves
> along well; nice work.
> _______________________________________________
> Writers Division web site:
> http://www.nfb-writers-division.org <http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
>
> stylist mailing list
> stylist at nfbnet.org
> http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/stylist_nfbnet.org
> To unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info for
> stylist:
> http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/options/stylist_nfbnet.org/qobells%40roadrunner.com
> Shelley J. Alongi
> Home Office: (714)869-3207
> **
> NFBWD "Slate and Style" editor
> http://www.nfb-writers-division.org
>
> **
> To read essays on my journey through the Chatsworth train accident,
> Metrolink 111 or other interests click on
> http://www.storymania.com/cgibin/sm2/smshowauthorbox.cgi?page=&author=AlongiSJ&alpha=A
>
> updated July 2, 2009
> ----- Original Message -----
> From: "helene ryles" <dreamavdb at googlemail.com>
> To: "A private list for authors" <DB-AUTHORS at tr.wou.edu>;
> <axevegans at yahoo.co.uk>; "bookel" <bookel1 at gmail.com>; "Christina Palfrey"
> <cmpalfrey at tiscali.co.uk>; "Christine Weetman (Googlemail)"
> <christine.weetman at googlemail.com>; "claire galvin"
> <umplefrumps at hotmail.co.uk>; "J Kimbell" <whitetiger62 at ntlworld.com>; "Julie
> Litten" <julie at litten-palace.freeserve.co.uk>; "krouthorn"
> <krouthorn at verizon.net>; <luciadisturbed at gmail.com>; <nanrosen at mac.com>;
> <new.charlotte at yahoo.com>; "Nika Mirovak" <nid2718 at gmail.com>; "Nika
> Mirovak" <nikamirovak at gmail.com>; <pinkybeadz3 at gmail.com>; "Rebecca
> MacDonald" <cheekyrm88 at hotmail.com>; <Scif3fan at aol.com>; "simon beaumont"
> <beaumont16 at btinternet.com>; <souggy at gmail.com>; "Tonilyn" <pip at thewis.org>;
> "Tony Giles" <gilest.backpacker at virgin.net>; <uinen at earthlink.net>;
> "Writer's Division Mailing List" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
> Sent: Thursday, September 03, 2009 9:09 PM
> Subject: [stylist] A deafblind girl (chapter 1)
>
>
> Chapter 1:
> A testimony by Fiona the fader (8th June, 1997)
>
> It’s not every day you witness a mother attempt to murder her child in
> a public place. So naturally the police assumed I was making the whole
> scene up, but I will stick to what I saw. I'll swear to it in court if
> only someone would take my word seriously enough.
> My working companion and I were selling flying carpet rides beside
> Stilosarka underground railway station, when the attempted murder took
> place.
> “Come on folks! Ten dren for a ride on our magical flying
> carpet!” my companion shouted as various people passed us. I’m a very
> quiet gal, so I let my companion do all the shouting, and I just
> operate the carpet.
> Our enterprise had gone off to a flying start when I spotted
> an undersized,
> malnourished child. She was wearing thick glasses that greatly
> magnified her frightened eyes. She was grey-skinned like us, and
> dressed in boy’s clothes, but I later learnt she was a girl called
> Nadia Murat.
> Despite her tiny size I could tell she was much older then she
> looked. It made me wonder if she was one of us.
> Nadia was being dragged along by a gaudy hard-faced woman, wearing fur
> trimmings.
> "Want a ride? It normally costs 10 dren but I can reduce it to 5
> dren for you" I told Nadia in sign language. I figured she was deaf
> as I had spotted her cochlear implant. I was quite keen to practice
> my signing skills with her.
> "My son doesn't sign!" Nadia’s mother told me tartly.
> "Yes I do," the child contradicted in sign language. She gave a yelp
> of pain as her mother pinched her. The woman yanked her away from us as if
> we had some sort of contagious disease.
> I bristled. Who did this woman think she was? I am a mother too, and
> I can manage my brood without hurting them in the process. I don’t
> hold with that sort of thing.
> "Be quiet. Witches like that have absolutely no dignity. Look how
> dirty they are. They aren't even wearing shoes!” I overheard the woman
> say, as the child was dragged off to the side of a sheer drop into the
> underground station below.
> "We don't need that thing today. Today you are going to jump."
> The woman announced. She was referring to a long greasy pole that
> some people used for sliding down into the station below.
> I had been about to let on my next group of passengers but I indicated
> that they should wait. I had a shrewd suspicion I would be needed for
> other things. I watched Nadia and the woman closely just to see what
> would happen next.
> "What!" Nadia cried.
> "You heard what I said. I'm sick to death of you and your pathetic
> little ways. Your father and I are both witches so you must have
> inherited our witchcraft too. So come along now. We're late"
> I witnessed the wicked witch cast a concealment charm. It stops
> most people from noticing anything suspicious. I’m very
> familiar with that particular spell as I use it quite frequently
> myself and so do my kids. As a result I’ve grown quite immune to the
> affect.
> I saw the woman discreetly shove Nadia over the sheer drop, into
> the station below.
> Nadia gave an ear-piercing scream as her body hurtled towards the
> ground. She was definitely not floating in the way that witches
> normally do. I dived over the side of the drop myself. Grabbing
> Nadia's shirt, I slid an arm around her waist as
> she floated downwards at a less scary rate. Despite the rapid
> deceleration the child gave a cry of pain as her body hit the ground.
> "I'd use the pole in future, if I were you. You are obviously not a
> witch," I advised on landing. I was trying to lighten things up a bit,
> but by the stunned look on her face I don’t think she had taken in
> what I had said at all. She was staring in horror at the remains of
> her cochlear implant which was now smashed on the platform near her
> feet.
> “I’ve already told you that he doesn’t use sign language. Be off
> and mind your own business before I call the police.”
> “I make it my business when people try to murder their children.”
> I retorted. This woman had a right nerve. I felt it should be me who
> was threatening her with the police after what I had just witnessed.
> Just then a pale-skin police woman, with long ginger hair,
> grabbed my upper arm. She wore the dark red uniform of the Darthrilan
> police force.
> I started. I'd been so intent on saving the child, then arguing with
> the mother that I
> hadn’t even noticed the police appear on the scene.
> “It’s her you should be arresting not me!” I told her pointing to
> where the woman and child had been. They were no longer there. The
> woman had literally yanked the child off her feet and ran. I saw them
> boarding a train that had just pulled into the station.
> “Never you mind. We want to know where your trading licence is.”
> The police
> woman replied tartly.
> “But I do mind very much. Aren’t police officers supposed to do
> something when parents start murdering their kids in public places?”
> “That’s enough; we don’t have time to listen to your stories today.
> We want to know where your licence is.”
> The police are obviously discriminating against me because I'm only
> three foot seven inches high and a fader (meaning I can vanish at
> will), but I'll admit fading is a notoriously unstable branch of
> magic.
> I feel ever so worried about that girl. I was determined to find
> out more about her, and offer her my protection. I'm certainly not
> going to let the matter rest until I see justice done.
>
> _______________________________________________
> Writers Division web site:
> http://www.nfb-writers-division.org <http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
>
> stylist mailing list
> stylist at nfbnet.org
> http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/stylist_nfbnet.org
> To unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info for
> stylist:
> http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/options/stylist_nfbnet.org/qobells%40roadrunner.com
>
>
> _______________________________________________
> Writers Division web site:
> http://www.nfb-writers-division.org <http://www.nfb-writers-division.org/>
>
> stylist mailing list
> stylist at nfbnet.org
> http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/listinfo/stylist_nfbnet.org
> To unsubscribe, change your list options or get your account info for
> stylist:
> http://www.nfbnet.org/mailman/options/stylist_nfbnet.org/dreamavdb%40googlemail.com
>
More information about the Stylist
mailing list