Write a story of about 350 words on the topic all birds find shelter during the rain while Eagle avoids the rain and flies above the clouds
Answers
Answered by
1
A young woman, bereft since the death of her twin, tries to forge a new, singular identity
I’m sitting in a cafe in Melbourne when that song comes on, When Will I Be Famous?There I am sipping a flat white, they love their flat whites over here, and listening to this Aussie lad bang on about how he’s really into minimal techno. I’m nodding away to the sounds of Bros and smiling to myself, he probably thinks I’m being ironic or something. Molly would have been so much better at this online dating thing. She wouldn’t zone out in the middle of a conversation and start daydreaming about some boyband from the 1980s.
We used to sing it together at a karaoke bar called Same Same But Different during our J1 summer in New York, her on lead vocals, me on backing. We’d mock fight over which of us could have Luke Goss, the one we had decided was the better looking of the identical twins in Bros. But I knew if the unlikely situation did arise, Molly would get Luke and I’d have to settle for his slightly less handsome brother Matt. She loved that song, she was the one who wanted to be famous. In the end, she had her picture splashed across the newspapers for the worst possible reason. “Tragic twin” they called her.
The guy, his name is Luke funnily enough, is going on and on about how you can never replicate the sound of vinyl on a computer. I want to point out that minimal techno, as far as I’m aware, is made on a computer but I resist the temptation.
Instead I say “I was in New York a few years ago and I bought this Talking Heads record in a second-hand shop, but then I brought it to the cinema and my friend sat on it and broke it. I haven’t bought a record since.”
“It’s a dangerous game alright, the old vinyl,” Luke jokes.
It wasn’t my friend, actually, it was Molly who was the culprit, but I don’t mention that because then he’d say something like “oh, you have a twin sister” and I’d have to either lie or explain things. Moll was driving me mad that day, it wasn’t just the record, she had talked all the way through the film too, I can’t even remember about what. I gave her the silent treatment on the way home on the subway. It all seems so silly now. We fought a lot that summer, I was tired of her finishing my sentences and speaking for both of us, a throwback to when I had a stammer as a child. Old habits die hard, I suppose.
Luke is looking at me curiously, he might have just asked me a question, something about New York, I’m not sure. I shouldn’t have brought it up.
“Are you ok?” he asks over the sounds of coffee being ground and milk being steamed.
“I’m sorry, it’s just . . . I’ve got this toothache, it’s killing me. I think I’ll have to go home.”
“Oh . . . ok, well another time maybe.”
“Yeah, I’m really sorry to rush off, thanks for the coffee.”
A toothache? Where did that came out of? I walk down Brunswick Street, wondering what to do with myself for the rest of the afternoon now that I’ve put the kibosh on the date. I moved to Australia a few months ago because I was tired of everyone’s pity and morbid curiosity at home. I wanted a fresh start, to be my own person, and that’s impossible in a city like Dublin which is really just a big town. Everyone you meet knows someone you know, and sooner or later everyone knows your story.
I don’t know what to say really, after all this time I still don’t know what to say when people say things like that. All I can think about is how I wish I could tell Moll that Deirdre McCarthy has an Australian accent six months after getting off the plane. She’d get such a laugh out of it. I mutter something about my teaching job and about the weather, and tell her I’m running late. We exchange phone numbers and promise to meet up but we won’t. I came here to break free of the past, not to meet it for a pint in an Irish pub in St Kilda.
We meet a few days later near Flinders Street Station in the city centre and walk to a bar in one of the graffiti-lined laneways. Hip-hop music is spilling out from a window, and between that and the street art I could be back in New York again, but that’s ok. We stay for another drink, and another. Luke asks if I’m going to stay in Australia.
“Not for too long,” I say, “I think I’ll be ready to go home soon.”
“Can’t keep running away?”
“Something like that.”
“My brother’s living in Dublin, I keep promising to visit him. Maybe I’ll move over there for a while, he seems to like it. What about you, have you got brothers or sisters?”
“Well, I had a twin sister,” I tell him. “But she passed away.”
I’m sitting in a cafe in Melbourne when that song comes on, When Will I Be Famous?There I am sipping a flat white, they love their flat whites over here, and listening to this Aussie lad bang on about how he’s really into minimal techno. I’m nodding away to the sounds of Bros and smiling to myself, he probably thinks I’m being ironic or something. Molly would have been so much better at this online dating thing. She wouldn’t zone out in the middle of a conversation and start daydreaming about some boyband from the 1980s.
We used to sing it together at a karaoke bar called Same Same But Different during our J1 summer in New York, her on lead vocals, me on backing. We’d mock fight over which of us could have Luke Goss, the one we had decided was the better looking of the identical twins in Bros. But I knew if the unlikely situation did arise, Molly would get Luke and I’d have to settle for his slightly less handsome brother Matt. She loved that song, she was the one who wanted to be famous. In the end, she had her picture splashed across the newspapers for the worst possible reason. “Tragic twin” they called her.
The guy, his name is Luke funnily enough, is going on and on about how you can never replicate the sound of vinyl on a computer. I want to point out that minimal techno, as far as I’m aware, is made on a computer but I resist the temptation.
Instead I say “I was in New York a few years ago and I bought this Talking Heads record in a second-hand shop, but then I brought it to the cinema and my friend sat on it and broke it. I haven’t bought a record since.”
“It’s a dangerous game alright, the old vinyl,” Luke jokes.
It wasn’t my friend, actually, it was Molly who was the culprit, but I don’t mention that because then he’d say something like “oh, you have a twin sister” and I’d have to either lie or explain things. Moll was driving me mad that day, it wasn’t just the record, she had talked all the way through the film too, I can’t even remember about what. I gave her the silent treatment on the way home on the subway. It all seems so silly now. We fought a lot that summer, I was tired of her finishing my sentences and speaking for both of us, a throwback to when I had a stammer as a child. Old habits die hard, I suppose.
Luke is looking at me curiously, he might have just asked me a question, something about New York, I’m not sure. I shouldn’t have brought it up.
“Are you ok?” he asks over the sounds of coffee being ground and milk being steamed.
“I’m sorry, it’s just . . . I’ve got this toothache, it’s killing me. I think I’ll have to go home.”
“Oh . . . ok, well another time maybe.”
“Yeah, I’m really sorry to rush off, thanks for the coffee.”
A toothache? Where did that came out of? I walk down Brunswick Street, wondering what to do with myself for the rest of the afternoon now that I’ve put the kibosh on the date. I moved to Australia a few months ago because I was tired of everyone’s pity and morbid curiosity at home. I wanted a fresh start, to be my own person, and that’s impossible in a city like Dublin which is really just a big town. Everyone you meet knows someone you know, and sooner or later everyone knows your story.
I don’t know what to say really, after all this time I still don’t know what to say when people say things like that. All I can think about is how I wish I could tell Moll that Deirdre McCarthy has an Australian accent six months after getting off the plane. She’d get such a laugh out of it. I mutter something about my teaching job and about the weather, and tell her I’m running late. We exchange phone numbers and promise to meet up but we won’t. I came here to break free of the past, not to meet it for a pint in an Irish pub in St Kilda.
We meet a few days later near Flinders Street Station in the city centre and walk to a bar in one of the graffiti-lined laneways. Hip-hop music is spilling out from a window, and between that and the street art I could be back in New York again, but that’s ok. We stay for another drink, and another. Luke asks if I’m going to stay in Australia.
“Not for too long,” I say, “I think I’ll be ready to go home soon.”
“Can’t keep running away?”
“Something like that.”
“My brother’s living in Dublin, I keep promising to visit him. Maybe I’ll move over there for a while, he seems to like it. What about you, have you got brothers or sisters?”
“Well, I had a twin sister,” I tell him. “But she passed away.”
Answered by
0
Hope it helps you...........
Attachments:
Similar questions