Appointment in Samarra

So, for this weeks workshop, we were given a story in 3rd person narrative and told to re-write it three times from each characters point of view (so in 1st person). So here are my versions......

The Master’s point of view

I was going about my business, waiting for my servant to return from the market, pruning my flowers, and drinking the most refreshing lemonade. When he came crashing through my doors, in a blind panic.

“Master! Master! A horse! A Horse! I shall ride far away to Samarra where Death will not find me.” He shouted.

I could tell by his face that he was grieved in some way, and the sweat dripping down his brow, stole my attention. I pondered for a moment absorbing the information, and decided that as he has been a most loyal servant to me over the years, that I would oblige and agree to his request. I called my second servant to deal with this matter, and bid farewell to a servant that I admit I will miss.

That afternoon in the blazing sun, I decided to visit the market, and ask Death, why he has cost me a servant. I arrived at the market and saw him standing, amongst the crowd; I walked over and asked him why he had frightened him so. Death replied very calmly

“I did not mean to frighten him. I was simply astonished to see your servant here in Baghdad, when I have an appointment with him this very evening in Samarra.”

Astonished, and slightly puzzled, I looked at Death, and walked away, the dark figure disappearing in the market crowds. I really will miss my servant.

 

Death’s point of view

Standing in the market place, is never an easy task. Many fear me, many avoid me, and I suppose it’s understandable, as I have taken many of their loved ones to their graves. But on this occasion, I was just minding my own business on a hot day in Baghdad market, when a servant came up to me. He looked panicked, frightened, and nervous. The young man did not say anything he just stared at me. It was very unnerving. I was quite shocked to see him in the market place, as I was due to see him that evening, and I was taken aback at this early meeting. Before I could speak the man’s body shook and his eyes unglazed, he shrieked and scuttled off into the distance. I thought no more of it, as it was such a common occurrence, until a very well dressed man in gold’s and royal blues, came over to me. He asked why I had frightened his servant away, and that I had cost him a servant. I looked at the man, in sympathy and explained how this was never my intention and that I was shocked to see him so early, as I wasn’t meant to meet him until later that evening in Samarra. The man looked at me in amazement and just left. I grazed the market for a while longer, before heading to Samarra, to meet the servant, finally, at the correct time.

The servant’s point of view

My Master had requested I fetch some provisions for him at the market, naturally I obliged. I strolled through the market in the scorching sun, gazing at the treasures lining the market stools. But something black and large caught my eye. I peeked over and to my horror I saw him. It was Death. He was just stood, as if he was a regular person, wanting to buy from a fish stool. I went cautiously went over to him, I couldn’t deny I was intrigued. I got quite close to him, before my nerve got the better of me, and I ran back home as quickly as I could. I was in such a state I am shocked my master could understand me. I requested a horse, to get as far away from Baghdad as possible. I thought I would take refuge in Samarra, and there I would be safe. As my master is gracious he granted my wish and I rode off with all haste. After a long journey I finally reached Samarra, and at last I became at ease, and began to relax. I rode through the city to find shelter, and refreshment, but to my horror I did not find this. For Death was waiting for me, and finally I realised… There was no escaping Death!

 

Flash fiction two

The burglary

Mac hadn’t seen his family whilst in prison. For ten years his cell heard his cries and captured his regrets. The impact on his life was greater than he could have foreseen.

 “Mac we need to get back, move” ordered Jay

“Okay, okay I’m coming, just one more grab” he replied.

 I hope this will be the last one, prayed Mac, eventually ill have enough money to visit my kids, I’ll be dad again. He snatched the item, knocking a lamp over and began to leave. The resident awoke from his slumber to investigate, Mac in a state of panic hit the man repeatedly until his groans of pain could be heard no more. The two held their bags brimming with loot and ran.  They clambered into the front seats and set off into the darkness. Pulling up to a battered old house, they jumped out, grabbed the bags and hastily walked into the house.

Mac confessed to Jay about the man, in hopes he would understand. He didn’t.

“You bloody idiot! Shouted Jay, you hit him? How could you be so stupid?”

Mac didn’t answer. His face was pale and his palms sweaty.

“That’s it we’re done for… Finished!”

Mac still didn’t answer his eyes fixed on the blue lights flashing through the bay window. Then came the words that all criminals fear… “Police let us in!”

 

That night haunts Mac; he fears it always will, for he took a man’s life and in some ways ended his own.

 

Word count: 250

 

Flash fiction one

Emily’s revenge

 

She stood gazing out of the window, her mind remembering when they were happy.  Her knees began to shake, a tear rolling down her cheek. Emily’s mind thought back to the summer two years previous, and the holiday they had, had in morocco. The love they had for each other, the feeling of content and happiness, and the moments of hot passion where they could not be separated. But her mind soon turned to rage and the reality of what he had done to her came flooding back. I don’t regret it at all she thought.

She stood looking at her blood stained hands, holding the knife she had used, but she wasn’t consumed with regret or the sudden realisation of what had happened, no, it was the worry of how she would get the blood out of her carpet.

After cleaning her hands for twenty minutes, she grabbed a large tin from her kitchen cupboard and strolled through to the hallway, I can’t believe he did this to me, and after 10 years of marriage! Emily knelt by the body and began to scrub vigorously. He was a useless husband anyway, always late, always lazy, always forgetting and lousy in bed!  After scrubbing the carpet, Emily strolled back into the kitchen to make herself (in her mind) a much needed hot brew, and took her usual spot at the kitchen table.

She looked back at the dead body of her husband and thought I hope she was worth it!

 

Word count: 250

Bobby the flamingo

The group of flamingos, grazed along the river bank, attempting to catch their breakfast. One very small flamingo was stood by himself under a green palm tree, hiding from the blazing sun, waiting in anticipation and fright for the torture to begin! This particular flamingo had been submitted to nasty pernicious taunting from the rest of the flock because he didn’t talk like everyone else. Bobby isolated himself from everyone, in hope to avoid the taunting and often wished he was somewhere else. That morning a group of flamingos strolled over to Bobby and began to laugh, point, and spit at him. Bobby didn’t respond. He knew that they laughed at him for speaking colloquially and for having a strong African accent, so he tried not to speak. After being tortured for an hour Bobby began to wonder if it would  ever end, but eventually the pernicious comments stopped, and the flamingos became bored, so they turned from Bobby, and searched for their next victim to torture.