Allaboutwriting

Here’s an exercise we adapted from one developed by the writer John Gardner…

A wo/man steps off a bus. In so doing s/he trips and manages to recover, reddens, and as he looks up sees someone of the opposite sex watching in a slightly amused way.

Write five little scenes built around the same incident in five entirely different ways, possibly using different genre conventions (romance, detective etc), or different points of view (third person attached, omniscient, etc)…

Mandy’s Exercise:

1. Joe was having a bad day. A day he really should start over.

He had literally got out on the wrong side of the bed and smacked his head into the wall. He’d cut himself shaving. He’d tripped over the rug in the passage and spilt his coffee, which even now was dripping down the walls.

He’d had no time to clean it up. He was terribly late. And now, as he stepped off the bus, he tripped again and stumbled, managing to save himself but not his briefcase, which snapped open on impact, sending papers all over the road.

But no matter. He’d made it, and there she was, waiting, just as she’d said she’d be, with that infuriating grin plastered across her face.

“Joe Anderson, you clumsy klutz,” she said. “You’re a sight for sore eyes. Come over here and give me a hug.”

2. As the bus pulled into the station, I scanned the crowd. How would I find her? I had to give her the package today – she’d said she’d be waiting.

I hung back, waiting for the others to disembark, hoping she’d be left behind, alone on the platform. But there were too many people, too many buses.

Finally it was my turn. Intent on keeping the package intact, I missed the last step and stumbled on to the station. Embarrassed, I straightened up quickly.

A shadow fell across me and I looked up into a face partly obscured by a dark hoodie. “Mr Cruz,” she drawled in a feline voice. “You certainly know how to make an entrance.”

3. Lindiwe was struggling to really enjoy the trip. Sure, these Rea Vaya buses were comfortable and convenient, air-conditioned and spacious. There was no jostling for space, no shoulder-to-shoulder sardine tin sensation. But she was nervous about what Jakes would think.

Finally they reached their stop in Mooi Street. The door opened and she faltered out of the door and down the steps.

As she stood up, she looked straight at a pair of Converse sneakers, a pair she’d seen many times as she collected her taxi for the day’s journeys. “So,” said Jakes, a cruel smile playing around his lips. “This is how you betray me.”

4. Heather waited anxiously at the bus stop. She smoothed her skirt down for the umpteenth time. This was a very odd place to meet for a first date. Still, at least it was a public place.

She ran her fingers through her hair. God, she needed to stop fidgeting and concentrate. How on earth would she recognise him? She hoped the picture he had posted on the site was recent.

She’d like his ad. He’d seemed normal, down to earth; not like all the others, who were interested only, it seemed, in parading their status symbols.

The bus slowed down and stopped and the doors hissed open. A little old lady tottered out, followed by … was that him? He tripped and stumbled as he alighted, and she smiled. He was everything he’d said he was in his ad – tall, dark, ordinary looking… and pathologically clumsy.

5. Owen couldn’t bring himself to look out of the window. He didn’t know what to feel, what to think. He’d waited so long for this day. He hoped he wouldn’t be a disappointment. Hell, he didn’t want to be disappointed either.

He’d been surprised when she’d agreed to meet him – the agency said it was a rare thing. And he was desperate to make a good impression.

He shone his shoes on the back of his trousers before walking to the front of the bus, and dried his clammy hands off on his handkerchief.

As the doors opened, he walked confidently out and then tripped as he stepped onto the pavement. When he looked up, it was into the smiling face of a woman he should have recognised anywhere. Finally, here was his mother.

Alethea’s Exercise:

1. From the window they all looked little better than ants. Filing here, dotting the pavement with their awkward bodies. Bobbing, begging, infinitely squashable. Until a woman drew to herself the scrutiny of the universe by blushing when she tripped in front of an upright man.

2. Shoes waited for shoes. Buffed to a shine, or scowling they stepped in half steps forward, some tapping on the metal of a step, others beasts of burden lifting suitcases on. The lady had shoes that said, “moccasin, I am an Indian in spring”, before they took to the air, and landed in front of a pair of Kenneth Coles, leather cut to the foot in a wide smile.

3. I remember every passenger, just like I remember the names of the roads I drive. They never change, and mostly the people never change, hidden behind newspapers and respectable clothes, sullen faces, and pallid or purple skin. But sometimes, like today, the clock comes off the works, and a lady tripping, then blushing, will light the face of even the most gangrenous gent.

4. Take another card. The joker. Yes, I see. At 4:15 you will do as you do every day. You will travel a familiar road, as though you were sitting, but inside you are standing, so that when it comes time to run, you will be ready. And as you run, the steppes that you know so well will fall away beneath you. You will find your feet again though.. to the rosy glow of a sunset… and at the feet of a dashing lover. If only you take the risk.

5. How is it that all thirty-five year old women look the same? As though, at the dusk of the nether year, they hit pumpkin hour and turn into their mothers. They even think like their mothers. If I bore my eyes in to the front of this ones curled and fringed head I can tell that she’s wondering if I’m married; if perhaps, I’d like to marry her. With that doleful look, I’d sure as hell not. But then she trips, and like a twenty year old, blushes it away, and then, well, I could be persuaded to a drink.