Of Mayflies and Men, Chapter 3

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And so we drank. We danced, we sang, we laughed, we talked and we were happy. Truly, infallibly happy. We stayed out for hours and it was everything I hoped it could be. ‘So what’s on your bucket list E? Got anything I could help with?’ One guy named Adam asked me after a few drinks. He was the sleaze of our year, and being the capable 15 year old I was, I knew what he was trying to imply. ‘Just because you have never had it before, doesn’t mean you get it when it becomes limited edition!’ I replied, slurring a little. After that I stood up and went over to Bella and danced with her. She was the sensible one, hence her stone cold soberness. ‘You sure you’re OK? Should you be drinking your condition?’ She asked with a patronizing look on her face. ‘I am fineeee. Chillax!’ But for obvious reasons she was not convinced and brought me back over to the circle I had been sitting in before. ‘So you have reconsidered my offer then?’ Adam asked as soon as I sat down. I replied with an eye roll and a swig of something that look like vodka mixed with Lucozade. I tasted foul, but it was strangely moreish like custard creams or nachos. ‘Seriously though what is on your bucket list?’ Rose asked from the other side of the now 10 people large circle. When we had arrived the boys had been sitting in the clearing, and someone had managed to bring the big blue tarpaulin I was now sitting on. We used to sit on the picnic table 10 ft away but it had become caked in bird poo and the table section was uneven from all the names carved into it. ‘I haven’t really come up with one yet. We could always do it now,’ I said, as I walked over to school bag. Inside it there was an old notepad, with a gorgeous blue and green peacock on the front, that I had never used. I sat back down and wrote a title on the front cover. Electra’s Bucket List. No that was too boring. The End. Bit morbid. The best and last 2 years. Yeah, that sounded alright. I had two years left and they were going to be the best.’Ok suggestions from the floor?’ I asked, writing ‘List’ on the top of the first page.

After a few minutes talking the list looked something like this;

Listed ideas in Black. Notes in Blue.

  • Visit London, ride every tube line from beginning to end and see as much as is possible to see. (Without my over- protective/mentally damaging parents)
  • Dye my hair brown. (With henna, see next point)
  • Attend an Opera.
  • Get in touch with myself spiritually, try vegan-ism and use more natural products. (Do as little damage to the environment before I go. Also vegan diets are meant to give you a hot body)
  • Do more exercise.
  • Attend and possible organize a masquerade ball. (Everyone must be traditionally dress. Get my outfit from a corset shop in London. Mask from the exotic market near Covent Garden)
  • Attend a ballet.
  • Avoid all electronic devices for 24 whole hours. (Straightenersssssss)
  • Learn archery. (New Katniss over here)
  • Go geocaching.
  • Fall in Love
  • Have my first kiss (and maybe a little more 😉 )
  • Sleep under the stars
  • Go skinny dipping (preferably not in the local pond)

I left some space at the bottom of the page for the inevitable extra that were going to come up over the coming months. ‘Seems pretty good to me.’ I said, writing down my last few ideas. ‘Yeah, but how are you going to get your parents to let you do all this stuff. They are exactly the most…….relaxed people I’ve ever met,’ Bella replied. And she was right. They were uptight, over-baring manics. Obviously I knew they were only like that because they were ‘protecting me’, but I becomes wearing. Especially when you work as hard as we do, and you need to play hard to let off steam. ‘I will just have to find a way! I might have to play the dying of boredom card.’ I replied, already assessing the options.

Writer X




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