I've been prattling on about writing my novel for so long, I thought I'd better share some of it with all of you....
1969
Dennis Clifford was an impatient man. Altogether he had paced the hospital room at least twenty times, sat and stared at the four walls and noted the coffee stains on the table that was half piled with women’s magazines.
There was something about hospitals he could not stand. Maybe it was the god-awful smell that brought back memories of past experiences that he would rather not remember. The whole place just reminded him of death and the sooner he was out of here the better.
The receptionist on the front desk, sat and stared at the man, amazed at how after all the expectant Fathers that she had seen in her time, she still found their behaviour unbelievable.
“Anyone would have thought they were the ones that had to give birth” she mused to her colleague that stood beside her and smiled at the thought.
Dennis caught sight of her smile and scowled. How anyone could smile in this depressing place he couldn’t quite work out. It seemed to be almost as depressing as the flat he shared with his wife, Maggie. Sometimes it made him physically sick to think that, that was all he could offer her, after his alleged fame and fortune as a First Division footballer.
Copyright Janette Jones
No comments:
Post a Comment