Creative writing course - Week 4 - A good day

On the third week we didn't write an individual piece, we did a group activity. On the fourth week we were asked to write a description of a normal day, but exploring narrative styles. I decided to narrate it in the second person inspired by the amazing and award-winning 'Broken Earth' trilogy by N. K. Jemisin.

A good day

You are suddenly awake in the middle of the night. Your wife, Carmel, turned her body abruptly taking all of the duvet with her. You try to fall asleep again but thoughts of photosynthesis invade your mind. You imagine yourself in a conference hall saying: “therefore, it is quite evident that oxygenic photosynthesis must have originated before the great oxidation event.” You try to stop thinking, to relax every muscle of your body, to focus on nothingness, but a fraction of a moment later you are thinking about the last time you saw your parents, two years ago.

The loud sound of a war horn wakes you up. Louder than loudest trumpet. The water boiler. Carmel is in the shower, you realize that is 7.44 am. For breakfast you have a scrambled egg, a banana, and coffee. It is a clear morning, no clouds are visible, you inspect the chilli plants. They look good but the population of aphids is growing exponentially. You remove two crowded leaves, you squeeze some aphids between your thumb and index finger. You sit at the table with Carmel and start eating your scrambled egg. She is already finishing her porridge. “I have a new idea for my dissertation, decolonizing the museum!” she says excitedly, “Huh, interesting, tell me about it.”

You are now on the Piccadilly line, half way through the audiobook of Adulthood Rites by Octavia Butler. Akin, a mixed-race alien-human baby with superhuman abilities attempts to escape a tribe of extremely xenophobic humans in a world after the end of civilization. You’re so absorbed that before you realize it you’re taking your jacket off and waking up your computer. The strong scent of coffee makes you glad. You sit at your desk, coffee in hand, headphones on, Discovery Weekly on Spotify, hoping not to be disturbed by anything. The perfect recipe for a perfect day.

For the past six years you have attempted to solve when and how photosynthesis originated. You have made good progress and some remarkable discoveries. You assume that most people think the moment of discovery, that moment of eureka, is filled with excitement and euphoria. It definitely is, but just for a brief moment. When euphoria fades and you become aware that your discovery goes against the current consensus, a consensus that has existed for more than half a decade, then it becomes a burden and you feel desperately lonely. You notice that you have stopped moving and you’re staring at your screen visualizing imagined realities.

Fortunately, it is time to go home with Octavia Butler.

“Mi amor, you should join the British bake off” I shout with full conviction after Rahul, an inconspicuous human being, wins the final of the competition with a pretty ugly looking cake, although apparently delicious. You brush your teeth, and go to bed. This time a different dystopian world, thousands if not millions of years into the future, will put you to sleep.