He was standing in line, waiting to use the cashpoint- just outside the shopping centre. He was getting some money out to do some Christmas shopping. He had his card in his hand, ready to use.

John usually hated queuing but strangely, he didn’t feel nervous today. Eventually it was his turn, he stepped forward to put his card in but it wouldn’t go in. He then realised that the person before him hadn’t removed their card, and it was still on the menu screen. The ‘on screen balance’ button was staring at him. He couldn’t help himself.

He pressed the button. After a second, the screen came up. £17,040 CR. His eyes lit up but his heart sank, he knew he couldn’t, but he was so tempted. His hand, as if uncontrolled by his brain, pressed the ‘cash withdrawal’ button.

‘£50 won’t hurt them’ he said to himself.

He pocketed the money, took the card out and delivered it to lost and found in the shopping centre.

He was making himself a cup of tea when there was a knock at the door. He answered and there was a binman stood at his doorstep.

“Hello, I’m issuing you with a fixed £80 fine for putting non-recyclable material in your recycling bin.”

“excuse me?”

“Yes sir, i found a jam jar, it also had traces of jam left in it.”

“Well whats wrong with that?” John said nervously, before realising he had just stood up to someone.

“Under the health and safety act 2004, glass is only to be recycled in glass recycling bins as it creates a risk for the waste disposers.”

At this point, he wished he had stood up against him once more, after all, he was never told about this new rule, but he didn’t. Instead, he said

“Oh, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again”

“That’s reassuring to know.”

“And how long have i got to pay the fine?”

“you have seven working days sir. failure to pay in this time will result in a doubling of the fine every week. Thank you for your time sir.”

“Thank you” John replied. He closed the door, and threw the ticket in the bin.

He was sat on the bus, on his way home from another monotonous day at the office. He used the park and ride for convenience. He was sat in the disabled seat.

The bus stopped and an elderly couple got on. The couple didn’t ask for the seat but giving it up is what’s expected- especially as they got on at the Hospital. He kept his eyes down and pretended they weren’t there. He had been on his feet all day, why should he have to give the seat up to someone 20 years his senior?

A woman sitting opposite needlessly involved herself,

“excuse me, could you give up your seat for this woman please?”

Several people were staring at him with disgusted eyes, but he kept his angled towards the floor. At the next stop, the driver asked him to get off the bus. John was too apprehensive to argue, so he stepped off.

He was left 2 miles from his car, and on his sore feet.

‘Waiting’ is a hypertext photo story that is designed to take the reader on a journey they don’t realise they are being taken on, to create links that make the reader think they are making the decisions.

What works well

• Breaking conventions as this sort of ‘make your own decision’ stories would normally be childrens fiction.
• leading the reader through a story.
• friendly tone talking about a somber event.
• potential to develop further.

Weak areas

• providing links off the main text but don’t have a great relevence to the main text.
• not deep enough- need to create links off of the links.
• picture needs to be more prominent on the title page.
• needs more pictures throughout the links.

Summary

In this peice, i am trying to create a ‘choose your own path’ story where the reader feels as though they are creating the end of the story when in reality they are being led to a particular conclusion. I believe it works well in leading the reader through a story and the links i have so far create another dimension to the story. I think the picture needs to be more prominant on the opening page, and i could create more links, and more options for the reader. I could also include more pictures throughout.

Memory is a treacherous thing. Our memories make us who we are. Does it mean that people with amnesia or Alzheimer’s become less of a person?

Sometimes, I wish I could just stop thinking, and forget. Sometimes I wish I wasn’t me, that I could be someone else, in some other time, and live a different life. I’m going to make it happen, one day soon. I won’t remember this life any more.

Chester was at the bar, making his last orders. Julian sat alone with me. He was picking his nails and looking at the beer stained table. “Have you ever told him?”

My chest was gripped with fear. “Told him? Told him what?” Even though I knew damn well what he was talking about.

“What happened that night, at that party.”
”No.”

“Why?”

I thought long and hard. “I haven’t told him because he doesn’t need to know. It was a thing that happened. It shouldn’t have happened and the next morning, it may as well not have happened. I don’t see the point in mentioning it. It’s not like it happened again, is it?”

“I wish it had happened again. I still wish it would happen again.”

I didn’t know what to say; didn’t know how to react. “I’m sorry Julian but you need to forget about it. I have.”

Revised

Chester was at the bar. Julian sat with me, picking his nails, looking down. “Have you ever told him?”

Fear set in. “Told him what?” I knew damn well what he was talking about.

“What happened at that party.”
”No.”

“Why?”

I paused. “He doesn’t need to know. It shouldn’t have happened but it happened. There’s no point in mentioning it. It’s not like it happened again?”

“I wish it had. I still wish it would happen again.”

I didn’t know what to say; didn’t know how to react. “I’m sorry Julian.”

He was standing in line, waiting to be served. He hoped that the waitress wouldn’t notice he only had 20p, not the 65p required. All he wanted was a cup of tea. He anxiously shuffled forwards as one more person was served, each having enough money, most had the correct change. He was far too superior to ask anyone for money. He kept his eyes down as he got close and closer, the sound of coins falling into their place inside the till drawer became louder and louder. Sweat was forming profusely on his brow, taking a detour around his eye before falling to his cheek. His heartbeat became so pulsating he thought the people around him may feel the vibrations through their fresh cups of decaffeinated coffee. Finally it was his turn.

“A cup of tea please”

His hand trembled as he passed her the money. She dropped it in the till without a glance.

“YES” he shouted using all the air in his lungs. Everyone turned.

the calm before the storm

It’s a beautiful sight, the calm before the storm. Ultimate tranquility. Exquisite bliss. The setting Sun far away on the horizon. The perfectly calm water, and the tropical palm trees. That was the last good day of my life. Who would have thought ten thousand people could die on this beach the day after i took this photo.

I vividly remmeber the moment i took the photograph. I was on my own on the beach, my wife had just gone for a bath and i decided to catch our final honeymoon sunset. We were due to stay for two more nights but the weather said it would rain for the rest of the time.

At the time i was so glad i took advantage of this moment. The funny thing is, i nearly forgot my camera, it was only when i got halfway to the beach that i noticed i didn’t have it with me. Lucky really, I got this photo.

I went back and went to bed. It was my honeymoon so…you know.

The next morning, i woke to an empty bed, my wife had gone for a stroll on the beach, she left me a note. ‘Whatever floats your boat’ i said in my head, it was raining, sounded a bit windy to. I got up and had a shower and shave. I was going to ring for room service but when i called they asked me if i was crazy.

I walked over to the window, drew back the curtains and watched a wall of water swirl by, it carried cars, trees, rubbish, umbrellas, and as i later found out, my wife. That’s why i keep this photo.

The Idea

Have you ever just had that urge to annoy your landlord? frustrate him beyond despair? or just ruin their property? well this is the place to be, a concise guide on…

HOW TO GET THROWN OUT BY YOUR LANDLORD

THE STEPS-normal

1.Be loud. This works in many ways really, loud music, abusive shouting etc. fairly self explanatory.

2. Pull up the carpets. Stomping on bare floorboards is much more effective at upping those decibels.

3. Bed action (real or manufactured). Any loud screams and the bed hitting the wall will annoy other tenants and the landlord. There’s nothing like disturbing other peoples sleep.

4. Watch TV at ridiculous hours, i find national geographic works best, monkey screams, whale song etc.

THE STEPS- crazy

5. Paint all the walls, doors, floors, yourselves if necessary, black!

6. Turn your stairs into a water slide, great fun and causes a flood. (only works if your flat/ apartment has stairs, bungalows will not work.)

7. This is only to be used in drastic measures… set fire to and burn down your flat/apartment.

IMPORTANT: make sure you leave your place of residence swiftly after setting fire to it.

WARNING: points 5 to 7 may result in death.

Carrying out just a few of these should result in you being kicked out, if not, you have a problem. Enjoy the tips.