Monologue writing


This very famous photograph by David Hockney of his mother sitting in the rain amidst the ruins of Bolton Abbey was used by my creative writing tutor as a prompt for a written monologue. Here’s my attempt at the exercise :

I’m here again, and it’s raining again. Strange how all my walks seem to end up here. You always liked it here George. Didn’t we have some good times? Do you remember the day we walked all the way here over the moor and were so tired that we had to catch the bus to go home? I can see you now stretched full length on top of one of those graves over there, lying in the sun with the map over your eyes while you had forty winks. You didn’t care who saw you but I was on pins, waiting for one of those guides to come along and tell you off. You were always braver than me.

Since you’ve been gone though, I’ve had to become braver. No choice really. If I don’t do things on my own I’d be stuck at home all day by myself. So that’s what I do; I get my things on, go to the shops, to the library for my books. I still enjoy a good murder. You can lose yourself for hours in a good who dunnit, and I’ve got plenty of hours to lose. And walks, I go for a walk most days even though I don’t have a dog anymore. Poor old Spot, he went last year. I’m too old to get another one now, wouldn’t be fair on the dog because it’ll be me next. So I walk on my own; I do all our old favourite walks and it gives me a chance to talk to you. Funny really, I used to get upset when you told me to stop nattering, but now that I can rabbit as much as I like, I do miss a reply, even one telling me to be quiet would be good.

Anyway time to go now George. The rain is clearing and the bus will be here soon. I’ll be back again tomorrow.

We had only 10 minutes in which to complete this; timed pieces always concentrate the mind!


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