>Day 12: 10 December 2010

>List 6 disgusting things you’ve found in your refrigerator. Use all six in a story. Start with …
1. mouldy carrots 2. mouldy onions 3. sour milk 4. ripe cheese 5. grey meat 6. scum

Whenever he mentions Paris all I can think of is mouldy onions festering away at the bottom of my fridge, melting into a disgusting scum at the bottom of the salad drawer. It stinks too, like ripe cheese, another smell that instantly brings Paris to mind. And so we have come full circle in such a short space of time.

So, Paris. I’ve never been. Well, I’ve never stayed. I changed planes there one year but I can’t even remember where we were coming from. Not Canada because we stopped off at Italy for Canada. We were in Paris just a day or so before the walkway there collapsed and the airport subsequently closed down for health and safety checks. But I can’t remember where we were coming from.

It was a holiday we’d dashed off on, not giving me time to get rid of any food that might spoil. And while we were changing at the airport, that smell of ripe cheese had been everywhere and there was a mime artiste on a pushbike with a stereotype stripy shirt, a beret and a string of onions around his neck entertaining the crowd as we waited for delayed flights to be announced.

And when we got home we could smell the fridge from the door, almost tasted the meat now grey instead of pink. Sour milk sat solidly separated in bottles, the mouldy carrots also melting into the scum. (239 words)

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8 thoughts on “>Day 12: 10 December 2010

  1. >I can't wait to get to this one (and I could smell that fridge in your story). So far in a week of having the book (I love it!) I've only done two of the exercises. Thank you for recommending it.

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  2. >6 Disgusting things…..Can I point out that I would NEVER have 6 disgusting things festering in my fridge….Honest!Lettuce turning to slimeBroccoli becoming soft and squashyCarrot turned to mushCheese gone hard.Milk turned rank.Yoghurt that’s going to walk to the binWhenever he mentions Paris, I get that feeling coming over me all over again. Try to imagine him stood there in the Charles V hotel, in the early hours of the morning. He is wearing a tux and white dress shirt but the bow tie is now undone and hanging nonchalantly around his neck. He opens the door for me and ushers me into the bar, where we sit in the leather armchairs and he orders champagne. I am tired, but relaxed and happy. It has been a wonderful evening. We have dined in the finest restaurant, gambled in the best casino, toured the Champs Elysees by night and now returned to our very glamorous (and expensive) hotel. Well, it wasn’t like that at all, but, hey, I like to imagine. We did go to Paris but stayed in a one star B & B in the centre. Let’s just say basic. It reminded me of my student house days; grotty, damp and tatty. It even smelt like my student house, I swear I could smell, stale milk and the yoghurt gone off. We actually had a lovely time, seeing the sights, finding cheap(ish) places to eat and using the Paris metro. Then it was time to go home. Imagine me stood there; looking into the fridge I had forgotten to empty. It was disgusting; the lettuce was now slime running around the bottom of the salad box, swimming in this was the mushy carrot and the squashy broccoli. At least I could eat the cheese I believed. No, if you threw that cheese at someone and hit them you could do them serious injury. Whenever he mentions Paris, I get that feeling coming over me all again, I think it’s called nausea.

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  3. >I think I'm getting a bit more into the swing of things now (when you see the ones after this one), Teresa. Will we be seeing any of yours?

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  4. >I'm not impressed with anything I've produced either, but I AM impressed that I've produced SOMETHING, every day. I'll certainly go back to some of them.

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