A363 Advanced Creative Writing – Activity 1.2 ‘My Problem with Peyote’

As I knew would happen, despite the OU forums being an essential part of this module…mine is deader than the dodo. Frustratingly, there are people posting on the Facebook group talking about how busy their forums are. I’m in the London region for tutorials. Either everyone in the London region is too busy to interact or they’re not interested. I hope it’s because they’re too busy because as a student who can’t make tutorials, it gets very frustrating when you’re the lone voice in the internet wilderness.

Anyway.

I’m going to post some of my activities here.

Activity 1.2 is about genre. We’ve been given an opening paragraph and some titles and asked to continue it in a genre. It’s supposed to be 500 words but I ran out of steam on mine because I couldn’t work out what direction it was really going in. It’s also not very good but heh…

‘My Problem with Peyote’

“The church clock strikes eight, so those villagers who are awake know without checking that it is six. A cock crows. A body lies across the doorstep of the church, a line of crumb-carrying ants marches across the fedora covering its face. There is a serene, momentary quiet after the chimes cease. A figure glides past the church wall, before the silence is cracked by a baby crying.”

Or at least, that’s how I would have liked my day to have started. What actually happened was I woke up to the smell of my own piss, followed swiftly by the smell of vomit as I emptied the content of my stomach onto the church steps.

The ants didn’t seem to mind.

I tried to sit up but quickly decided that being horizontal was not currently a recommended setting. Everything was too bright, too loud and the purple elephant sitting next to me reading Descartes proved that I was still higher than Lucy and her Diamonds.

To put it mildly, I was fucked. To put it less mildly, I was absolutely fucked.

I was also late to work. Grunting I finally heaved myself into a sitting position, gave myself a few moments to accept this new state of being before making the next excruciating move.

The world spun and a passing rainbow striped dolphin laughed as I added another stream of vomit to the congealing mess on the steps. Fantastic.

With some difficulty I pulled the keys out of my soaked jeans, pushed open the door and squelched wetly in. The elephant closed his book and followed me in, giving the pulpit a mildly sneering glance. Great, he’s an atheistic philosophy reading purple elephant.

It took me a further hour to get myself into some sort of acceptable state to face those poor sods who haven’t figured out that online pornography is the closest thing to a divine experience you could have. Apologising for the mess on the stairs (a drunkard, no doubt) I launched into my sermon. Fuck knows what I said but the elephant was nodding happily in the front row and the deaf old dear who murders the organ on a Sunday seemed happy.

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