An Alternate Voice

A different view of my writing class!

Michael stretched each of his limbs carefully. As the stretch reached his toes they quivered slightly. He then rubbed his ears in a thoughtful way yawning at the same time to show old, yellowed teeth.

‘They’re back,’ he groaned. ‘I just heard that door squeak. Fat lot of good oiling it did. Still it does give us good warning when they’re here. Do you remember that time they nearly caught me?’

Wilhelmina raised her eyes to the ceiling and shook her head. ‘That was your own silly fault, you knew it was their day. I hope it taught you a lesson! Anyway it’s not for long and then we have the place to ourselves for a while. You don’t make such a fuss about anyone else.’

‘I know, it’s just THEM, so pompous, going on and on pretending they know everything. I’ve tried stuffing my socks in my ears but it just doesn’t work.’ He gave a great sigh and put his head in his hands.

‘I’ll buy you some headphones for your birthday and then you can listen to some of YOUR favourite stories. Block out their chatter. I just don’t understand you; I think some of what they say is really interesting. Just last week they were talking about that book that won all the prizes. You know that international best seller about the secret of the universe.’

‘In ter nash nal best seller!’ he spluttered. She smiled wickedly and went back to the study.

He waited till she’d gone then picked up a glass and held it to the wall, hoping that it would help him hear more clearly.

‘My mind went blank as I observed the devastation before me. Row upon row of grape vines destroyed by a rampaging army of….’

‘Wilhelmina,’ Michael shouted. ‘He’s at it again! He’s reading one of his dreadful stories and this time it’s about something destroying his wine harvest. He just does it to show off. And would you believe it they’ve just started to clap. Listen! Listen! Now it’s that fellow who thinks he’s in charge, and he’s praising that rubbish!’

‘Michael do calm down. They’ll be gone in a couple of minutes. Don’t forget the grandchildren are coming, that’ll cheer you up.’

He gave a slight smile and then popped his head up to have a sneaky look into the room.

‘Coffee anyone? He heard the pompous one say. ‘Let’s finish our discussion down at the teashop. I’ve got lots more ideas.’

Michael was sure he heard a few groans as he watched as they walked out still talking, what he considered to be utter rubbish.

‘Granddad, tell us a story, please!’

Milly snuggled into his lap, ‘Please.’

He never could resist her; she was the youngest and the sweetest. Big, brown shoe button eyes, a perky nose which twitched when she was excited and the most beautiful, glossy brown hair, just like her grandma.

Then a chorus of voices joined hers. ‘Pleeeeeeeze,’ they all said in unison.

There they all were, sitting at his feet, the grandchildren, all staring and waiting to hear one of his stories. He felt so proud when he looked at them, they would grow up to be such good citizens.

‘Well, which story is it going to be today?’ he said looking at each of their upturned faces. Marty, the one with the loudest voice shouted out ‘About our great, great, great, great, great…’ as he continued with the ‘greats’ little Maggy squeaked, ‘Granddad!’

‘Many years ago a young fellow found himself in a distant land, one filled with everything that anyone could need. A land of beauty, of freedom, of equality. Even the lowest of creatures was treated well. A land that gave him the opportunities to make his way in the world, to become famous. One man was there to help and together they changed the face of the world.’

He stopped and looked around at his audience, smiling. ‘And tell me little ones. What was the name of that young fellow?’

In a chorus they shouted out, ‘Micky!’

Michael rubbed his ears, wrinkled his nose and twitched his whiskers. Then he wrapped his tail around his legs. ‘That’s the way to tell a story,’ he thought.