On Thursday 28th November 2019, I ran a Write Club for the University of Exeter Doctoral College. These sessions are geared towards academic writing, but usually start with a short creative writing activity. Here is what I produced in that short creative task. It has not been edited, though I may make it into a longer piece.
Cressida wondered who this person was. Or who they used to be. They could have been anyone, she supposed. But they were definitely this person. Whoever this person was.
She found the cameo in the bottom of her rucksack, the one she had had since she had been a child. It was just sitting there, all innocent like, when she picked it up to go to school in the morning.
It hadn’t been there yesterday. Every morning she shook out her rucksack, to get all the little bits out before she repacked it ready for a new school day. There were usually crumbs left behind from lunch the previous day, that had fallen out through miniscule gaps in her lunchbox that the seal couldn’t quite cover.
Today, a cameo fell out.
She took it to school with her, because she felt like she was supposed to. She wasn’t sure what it was that made her feel that way: but when she was packing her bag that morning, she had put it on her bedside table and nearly left without it. She hadn’t intended to take it with her; but when she saw the cameo sitting there, not staring up at her, she didn’t feel right leaving it behind.She moved it. When it had fallen out of her backpack, it had fallen from the man in compartment: the one where she kept her books and her lunchbox. She didn’t put it back in that compartment. Instead, she put it in the front: the smaller, zipped, compartment, that was the closest to prying hands if they ever snuck up on her. It was also the perfect size for the cameo: like a letter in an envelope.
Featured image: DuBoix at Morguefile.com