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By (user no longer on site) OP
over a year ago
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Having written a couple of stories in here I thought it was time I worked on my prose and so enrolled onto a creative writing course at the local college. Of course I didn’t tell them what sort of stories I liked to produce and made some excuse about needing to write better at work. The class was a mixed bunch of ten students. The youngest in his twenties and the oldest, well I’d guess she was in her sixties. The teacher, Ms Trunchpole was early fifties and definitely a bit of a glamour puss. Always impeccably dressed and inscrutable. She was to be obeyed and to be listened to. We had no idea s to her past, but her lectures were always very interesting and I definitely felt I was learning something. There were plenty of assignments but I always made sure I separated my racy stories and only provided straight laced stuff that wouldn’t offend even the most timid of people.
Last week things took a strange turn. Mrs Trunchpole mentioned that there was an annual award for the most ridiculous sex scene in literature and how it was difficult to write such things convincingly. So out next assignment was to write an erotic short story and then read it out loud in next week’s class. Nothing was off the cards and if we were proud of what we’d written then she didn’t see how we would worry about reading to the rest of the class. All us students looked at each other in a bit of a panic, but homework is homework and one thing we knew about our teacher was that she did not look favourably on anyone that shirked any assisgnments. |
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