I remember that donkey-brown coat, bought with my first ever paycheque. I still have it. I still wear it. I’m wearing it now. I was 21 at the time, not certain yet about where I was going in my life nor how far, but even then I knew that going for what I want was important. It set a trend, a path upon which I’ve trodden all my life and it’s gotten me to where I am today.
I stand before you as one of you, brought in by invitation from my friend John here, who’s been a member of this organisation for years and who kept trying to get me to come out and see what it’s all about. I knew I should, but I kept putting it off. I always had some good excuse. I’m not a joiner. I’m not ready yet. I don’t need this. It’s too much effort. And I procrastinated and procrastinated.
Well the final straw that broke my proverbial camel’s back was the magnificent Mercedes Benz convertible that’s sitting out in front of the building. I bought it yesterday and today my wife left me.
So I’m ready to take the pledge. My name is Bart and I’m a compulsive buyer.
Hi Bart!
Phew. It’s taken me 15 years to say that. Everyone else said it. Why was it so hard? This stupid coat for example. What was I thinking? It cost more out of that first paycheque than my rent did. Donkey-brown? Jackass-brown is more like it. I know I’m talking to the choir here, but you should see my house. Well my rented flat actually. We could never afford the down payment, even during the easy credit when no down payment was all you needed. I think my wife married me because of the size of the engagement ring. You guessed it – three months’ worth of paycheques went into that one.
Well I’ve had it. The Mercedes goes back tomorrow. I have a 7 day cooling off period and I’m taking it up. And you can count on me to be here every week, with no new acquisitions either and maybe one day, I’ll get my wife back.
Sunday 20 February 2011
Friday 18 February 2011
A winter in the cold (Kerry)
I remember that donkey-brown coat, bought with my first ever paycheque.
My very first pay-cheque? Now I don’t remember that. I don’t think I ever got a pay-cheque in my life. Always the little paper packet of notes and coins. Maybe that’s why I don’t recall how much I earned. It required counting every time.
But the coat is very familiar. Donkey-brown is the description I gave for the colour only after it was no longer possible to wear the coat. It has hung forlornly in my wardrobe now for years. Since I’ve grown too large, shall we say, for it to fit me. Donkey-brown is actually a rather delicate tawny grey which I really loved in the beginning. When I still had fresh young skin and bright eyes. It rather complemented my dark hair I thought.
It was a daring purchase in some ways. But at the same time a necessary one. I was living in New York and it was coming on winter so I needed something to keep the chills out. I had had a beautiful coat that I’d worn for years through my schooling but it was so dated and so not-New-York that I refused to wear it when I moved from up-state.
I remember now the shopping trip with my new work-mate, Christy. She was the daring one actually. Took me to a part of town I’d never have ventured into. This was the first coat I tried on and fell in love with straight away. Such gorgeous slim lines. Beautiful tailoring around the collar. And that little fur trim on the collar and sleeves. Very elegant. And fitting for a new up-and-coming executive assistant.
The first day I wore it to work my colleagues whistled as I walked into the office. These days that may have been referred to as sexual harassment but actually I was quite chuffed to be noticed. Better than being ignored I reckoned. I wore it every day after that throughout the winter. Through snow storms, ice storms, rain storms. On the metro, in taxis, walking in the park. You couldn’t separate me from that coat.
I even bought a pair of boots later that winter to match the soft grey of the coat. These were specially for Sundays only. Otherwise I stuck to my black serviceable boots for work and about town.
The coat remains my favourite piece of clothing.
My very first pay-cheque? Now I don’t remember that. I don’t think I ever got a pay-cheque in my life. Always the little paper packet of notes and coins. Maybe that’s why I don’t recall how much I earned. It required counting every time.
But the coat is very familiar. Donkey-brown is the description I gave for the colour only after it was no longer possible to wear the coat. It has hung forlornly in my wardrobe now for years. Since I’ve grown too large, shall we say, for it to fit me. Donkey-brown is actually a rather delicate tawny grey which I really loved in the beginning. When I still had fresh young skin and bright eyes. It rather complemented my dark hair I thought.
It was a daring purchase in some ways. But at the same time a necessary one. I was living in New York and it was coming on winter so I needed something to keep the chills out. I had had a beautiful coat that I’d worn for years through my schooling but it was so dated and so not-New-York that I refused to wear it when I moved from up-state.
I remember now the shopping trip with my new work-mate, Christy. She was the daring one actually. Took me to a part of town I’d never have ventured into. This was the first coat I tried on and fell in love with straight away. Such gorgeous slim lines. Beautiful tailoring around the collar. And that little fur trim on the collar and sleeves. Very elegant. And fitting for a new up-and-coming executive assistant.
The first day I wore it to work my colleagues whistled as I walked into the office. These days that may have been referred to as sexual harassment but actually I was quite chuffed to be noticed. Better than being ignored I reckoned. I wore it every day after that throughout the winter. Through snow storms, ice storms, rain storms. On the metro, in taxis, walking in the park. You couldn’t separate me from that coat.
I even bought a pair of boots later that winter to match the soft grey of the coat. These were specially for Sundays only. Otherwise I stuck to my black serviceable boots for work and about town.
The coat remains my favourite piece of clothing.
Wednesday 16 February 2011
The Coat by Peta
I remember that donkey-brown coat, bought with my first ever paycheque. It was a beauty. Long and lush. I wore it everywhere. I remember how one girl in the office was so envious, green she was. She’d walk pass my desk more than was necessary and stroke the coat. I had to tell her off. Didn’t want her sticky mits on my gorgeous garment. And warm .It was so warm. I could have lived in the coat. It made me feel so safe. Wrapped up in it was like being surrounded by the bigs arms of a lovely man. Protecting me from all the evil in the world. Of course I was young and impressionable back then.
I had that coat for many years. It saw me through the end of my adolescence and into womanhood. It was my confidant. I could tell it anything and it never judged.
When I met Jake, my world changed. He swept me off my feet, in the same way the coat had done all those years before. He wrapped me up in his huge arms and loved me like no other. It was such a blessing. When he asked me to be his wife, I cried and cried so much I could not even respond. But he knew my answer without words. I wore my coat that day.
One day I was walking home from work. I travelled along a side road to escape the hustle and bustle of the traffic. I came across an old woman. She sat on a bench, the snow flakes landing on her grey hair. She was all skin and bones and shivering against the cold. Her clothes were old and clearly not warm enough for the conditions. I stopped and asked her if she was OK. She looked at me strangely and smiled in a way that told me no one had asked her such a question for a long time. I sat down next to her. Side by side we sat in silence, in the falling snow. A street vendor came past and I bought her a cup of coffee. Her face broke open with a warm smile as she greedily sipped the hot dark liquid. The steam rose and her nose turned red. I had to go. Jake would be worried. I said good bye and rose to leave. After a few steps I stopped and turned. Her tiny fingers clenched the warm mug which she held close to her face accepting the radiating heat. I retraced my steps and stopped again in front of her. Her tired eyes look up at me questioningly. I took off my lovely donkey brown coat and wrapped it around her shoulders.
“Stay warm and well” I said to her in a soft low voice. “This coat has always protected me, it’s your turn now.”
I hurried off and didn’t look back. I can still remember the look of gratitude on her face like it was yesterday.
I had that coat for many years. It saw me through the end of my adolescence and into womanhood. It was my confidant. I could tell it anything and it never judged.
When I met Jake, my world changed. He swept me off my feet, in the same way the coat had done all those years before. He wrapped me up in his huge arms and loved me like no other. It was such a blessing. When he asked me to be his wife, I cried and cried so much I could not even respond. But he knew my answer without words. I wore my coat that day.
One day I was walking home from work. I travelled along a side road to escape the hustle and bustle of the traffic. I came across an old woman. She sat on a bench, the snow flakes landing on her grey hair. She was all skin and bones and shivering against the cold. Her clothes were old and clearly not warm enough for the conditions. I stopped and asked her if she was OK. She looked at me strangely and smiled in a way that told me no one had asked her such a question for a long time. I sat down next to her. Side by side we sat in silence, in the falling snow. A street vendor came past and I bought her a cup of coffee. Her face broke open with a warm smile as she greedily sipped the hot dark liquid. The steam rose and her nose turned red. I had to go. Jake would be worried. I said good bye and rose to leave. After a few steps I stopped and turned. Her tiny fingers clenched the warm mug which she held close to her face accepting the radiating heat. I retraced my steps and stopped again in front of her. Her tired eyes look up at me questioningly. I took off my lovely donkey brown coat and wrapped it around her shoulders.
“Stay warm and well” I said to her in a soft low voice. “This coat has always protected me, it’s your turn now.”
I hurried off and didn’t look back. I can still remember the look of gratitude on her face like it was yesterday.
Tuesday 15 February 2011
My First Coat--Gordon
Prompt: "I remember that donkey-brown coat, bought with my first ever paycheque."
Nonchalance is like a prelude.
I walked down the shopping arcade with an air of nonchalance and expectation, surrounded by tall oak trees that held the street in their embrace by covering the bitumen strip like a green archway. Dotted between the shiny trunks were reflective shop windows that gave a sparkle to the elegant streetscape. Couples wandered down the sidewalks peering into shop windows and laughing and giggling as they walked. Others scurried from one office to the other conveying a feeling of rush and hurry. I resisted any form of rush as my intent was a new coat. I had dream't for weeks of walking into a shop and immediately seeing just the right coat. It had to be brown with a fine weave of grey giving it a sheen that portrayed 'well-dressed'. This moment should not, and could not, be rushed as it had to be just right.
I walked though the arched doorway and opened the heavy glass door. "Hello sir," the assistant exclaimed. "Can I help you?"
In the moment I said: "I would just like a look around." "My name is Arthur, and I would be delighted to help you, but do take your time." The preliminaries over I turned and looked at the elegant clothing beautifully displayed on criss-crossing racks and also around the walls of the room. It took only a moment and there was the coat I had to have. "Could, I try this one on", I said. Gently, I took it off the rack and Arthur helped me put it on. As I swung around to look in the mirror, to my horror I saw the price tag. It was as much as my first cheque. The coat was beautiful and the fit perfect. I loved it and how good it felt.
I had carefully considered how, with my very first cheque, I could buy a whole range of desperately needed kitchen items and maybe even a television. I really did have to have a coat as winter was just around the corner and I had been really cold at university this last year. "I will take it", I said, knowing full well that any television would have to wait at least another four weeks.
Nonchalance is like a prelude.
I walked down the shopping arcade with an air of nonchalance and expectation, surrounded by tall oak trees that held the street in their embrace by covering the bitumen strip like a green archway. Dotted between the shiny trunks were reflective shop windows that gave a sparkle to the elegant streetscape. Couples wandered down the sidewalks peering into shop windows and laughing and giggling as they walked. Others scurried from one office to the other conveying a feeling of rush and hurry. I resisted any form of rush as my intent was a new coat. I had dream't for weeks of walking into a shop and immediately seeing just the right coat. It had to be brown with a fine weave of grey giving it a sheen that portrayed 'well-dressed'. This moment should not, and could not, be rushed as it had to be just right.
I walked though the arched doorway and opened the heavy glass door. "Hello sir," the assistant exclaimed. "Can I help you?"
In the moment I said: "I would just like a look around." "My name is Arthur, and I would be delighted to help you, but do take your time." The preliminaries over I turned and looked at the elegant clothing beautifully displayed on criss-crossing racks and also around the walls of the room. It took only a moment and there was the coat I had to have. "Could, I try this one on", I said. Gently, I took it off the rack and Arthur helped me put it on. As I swung around to look in the mirror, to my horror I saw the price tag. It was as much as my first cheque. The coat was beautiful and the fit perfect. I loved it and how good it felt.
I had carefully considered how, with my very first cheque, I could buy a whole range of desperately needed kitchen items and maybe even a television. I really did have to have a coat as winter was just around the corner and I had been really cold at university this last year. "I will take it", I said, knowing full well that any television would have to wait at least another four weeks.
Tuesday 1 February 2011
the wind howled and the rain pelted ... by Peta
Despite its heavy construction, the door slammed against its hinges. Outside the wind howled and the rain pelted. The man’s frame filled the entire space of the doorway. He was enormous in every way. His long, wet hair flew about his face, whipping the air and giving him the aura of a mad man. He stood solid as a rock, equally balanced, his muscles bulging from exertion and glistening with moisture. His clothes, drenched, clung to his body showing the power that lay beneath. Solid abdominals, a narrow waist, lean and mean. His eyes told a different story of gentleness and concern. He stepped into the cabin and heaved the door closed, struggling against the elements. The shutters banged relentlessly against the shelter.
Without a word he moved slowly in and squatted by the small fire, warming his massive hands over the flickering flames. His damp musty smell was all masculinity. I watched him closely not sure how to react. In profile his long lashes rested on his cheeks his eyes lowered in concentration on the warming effects of the fire. He had tiny grazes across his cheeks from battling the heavy undergrowth surrounding the cabin.
The kettle screamed, jerking me out of my thoughts. I placed a warm steaming mug in his hands and accepted his appreciative nod. A grateful smile formed briefly as his mouth curled at the edges and then was gone.
“It’s no good” he said in a low sad voice. “There’s no way beyond the fence line in this weather. It’s too dangerous. There are mudslides all over. We’ll just have to sit tight and hope it passes in time.”
“We’ll be fine Jack.” I replied trying to sound like I meant it. “We’ll see this through together. It won’t be the first time.”
“No. But it will be the first time we have a baby if you go into labour.” He paused and looked at me with concern. “It wasn’t meant to be like this.”
I approached him with a warm blanket and covered his shoulders, circling my arms around his expansive chest. My large bump preventing my closeness.
“Darling, it will be fine. Please don’t worry. Our child will come when it is ready and we’ll be ready for it, whenever, wherever. It’s out of our hands.” I tried to sound reassuring.
He was silent for a long while.
“The horses have broken out. Scared by the wind I reckon. And there was no sign of Jade.”
Our gorgeous old Lab had stumbled out after dinner, before the storm broke and not returned.
“She knows the land well and where to shelter. Let’s just go to bed and keep warm. By morning it will be over.”
“I hope you’re right, love. Right now it looks like God has other plans.”
Without a word he moved slowly in and squatted by the small fire, warming his massive hands over the flickering flames. His damp musty smell was all masculinity. I watched him closely not sure how to react. In profile his long lashes rested on his cheeks his eyes lowered in concentration on the warming effects of the fire. He had tiny grazes across his cheeks from battling the heavy undergrowth surrounding the cabin.
The kettle screamed, jerking me out of my thoughts. I placed a warm steaming mug in his hands and accepted his appreciative nod. A grateful smile formed briefly as his mouth curled at the edges and then was gone.
“It’s no good” he said in a low sad voice. “There’s no way beyond the fence line in this weather. It’s too dangerous. There are mudslides all over. We’ll just have to sit tight and hope it passes in time.”
“We’ll be fine Jack.” I replied trying to sound like I meant it. “We’ll see this through together. It won’t be the first time.”
“No. But it will be the first time we have a baby if you go into labour.” He paused and looked at me with concern. “It wasn’t meant to be like this.”
I approached him with a warm blanket and covered his shoulders, circling my arms around his expansive chest. My large bump preventing my closeness.
“Darling, it will be fine. Please don’t worry. Our child will come when it is ready and we’ll be ready for it, whenever, wherever. It’s out of our hands.” I tried to sound reassuring.
He was silent for a long while.
“The horses have broken out. Scared by the wind I reckon. And there was no sign of Jade.”
Our gorgeous old Lab had stumbled out after dinner, before the storm broke and not returned.
“She knows the land well and where to shelter. Let’s just go to bed and keep warm. By morning it will be over.”
“I hope you’re right, love. Right now it looks like God has other plans.”
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