This is not proof read or anything but I’m excited at having put words on paper so I’m sharing it anyway!
I used a writing exercise which generates three words for you to use to write something. My words were: calm, canal, wheelbarrow
“bugger…” the old man grumbled to himself as the wheelbarrow caught on a jagged rock. It wasn’t the first time that day that he’d wondered what on earth he was doing. He was 82 for pete’s sake and here he was fighting with a contraption that looked older than he did just so that the young lass on the boat could get her fire going. She was pregnant. If she wasn’t, he’d have told her to put her own back into it instead of his which creaked and groaned. He didn’t know where the father was. He didn’t know much about her really. Just her name, Michelle, and that she’d pulled up on the mooring at the end of his garden three days ago.
The mooring, which by the way, was supposed to be private. Not that he’d ever used it. What did he need somewhere to park a boat? He didn’t even have a car… it was a relic he supposed, from a time when the village relied on the canal for it’s essentials. The barges were the high street back then. Now the water was filled with middle class holiday makers and posh folk who’d paid through the nose just to be able to refer to their own moorings. And michelle. Now she was different. She actually lived on her boat, or so it seemed to him. She had a little terrier dog, dirty brown colour but friendly enough. He supposed that it could get lonely by herself on the boat, having nowhere to really call home. He didn’t get the sense from her that she had much in the way of family or friends… was that because of her chosen lifestyle or was her lifestyle chosen because of the lack of personal relationships… standing upright and stretching out his back he wondered about her. And when she would be moving on. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t like her but he was used to his own company and of course, he could do without the additional chores… back in his day, a man would have stuck around to see his woman give birth… he should have been the one hauling about the coal… never mind… grumbling a bit more, George resumed the task in hand.
It was a calm day on board, Michelle stretched out her legs showing them off to the warming sun. It was late spring but it had been a harsh winter and the air was just starting to heat up at last. She sighed to herself. She really needed to find some answers to the thousands of worries which were swarming around in her mind… Seeing the kind gentleman approach, she heaved herself to standing and waved a grateful hand towards him. He’d been generous to her. Offering help which she desperately needed but her pride wouldn’t let her ask for. There were so many things which weren’t as easy as they had been before she’d ballooned into a walking incubator.
As had become customary, Michelle offered George a cup of tea by way of a thank you and as had become customary, he’d declined. It was strange. They knew nothing about each other really, they’d only met a few days ago but Michelle felt there was something very familiar about him and the way they danced their parts felt like they were an old married couple. George lived on his own. She knew that much from watching the house. No one had come or gone or appeared at a window whilst she’d been there. She could ask him but somehow that felt intrusive. No, instead she took glances at his ring finger; no sign of a ring or tan line. Divorced? Permanent bachelor? Or a widower who’d never been bothered with a ring? Not that it mattered really. She was moving on again soon and George would become just another faceless stranger who’d shown her some kindness.