Wednesday Write-in #6. I’ve been working today, training it to airport. Which means I’ve been reading up on the teenage run away with her Maths teacher. Front page of Daily Mail, section of the Metro, big coverage in the Telegraph. Here’s the article which I’ve used for this piece. I began with the prompt: drowning, and tried to incorporate these:
say please :: back to front :: curled
What interested me about the article was the way twitter has become a tracking device of our lives. I am used to reading epistolary novels, the next generation detective novels are going to have to include facebook, twitter, etc. The twitter quotes I’ve used are from the paper, but I have cut them up a bit. You can find the fuller versions in the article.
Her tweets had drowned in the world of blue and white they had set flight into; swamped by hash tags, retweets and adverts. It would surface later, when the story hit the newspapers.
My name is Megan, but don’t call me that.
I look minging today.
For the record, you always look beautiful.
And now they are delving through the records, finding evidence of grooming. I just want to run away forever-she sent it like a child folding their homework into a paper plane, and it flew into his hands. Say yes, please, say yes. They bantered back and forth, compliments and drama. She tweets: I’m set up for disappointment. Magpies sulking in cyberspace, and no one was counting. Preened and pecked.
Innocuous as swallows, vulgar as pigeons, the keyboard taps away beneath your fingers and you consider running away and leaving your identity there. The profile shots and one line summaries. You are your own mood swings; you are your own glass faced mirror. Find out what’s happening, right now. The small blue body curves and you compose, click tweet. Squawk.
Word Count: 182.