Guerilla Writing First Year Writing Students
September 2007
3:47pm – It was noisy inside the Library, the smell of coffee from the shop in the corner spreads through the room like a wave. The last remaining people waiting to enrol are looking tired, bored, hung over, whatever. They huddle into groups in the room, some large some small, whispering amongst themselves with the anticipation of what is ahead of them visible on their faces. Two long queues still remain; one girl who is right at the back of the longest queue (with what could be a Burberry bag slung around her shoulders) is half-standing, half-slouching. She looks towards the person at the front, a grinning man in a black duffel coat who must look very small from where she is, and turns her head away to roll head eyes and sigh. Struggling to hold her heavy-looking folder full of paperwork in just her left hand, she uses her right to prop up her chin. Perhaps she fears if she doesn’t her head will fall right into her shoulders and she’d be stuck like that, neck less forever…
3:50pm – The sun reflects on the outside windows of the Library, making them shine like mirrors or precious metals. Orange barriers stand just below the ground floor windows in the mud, looking out of place and shocking next to the green grass and brilliant white direction sign. They are almost sad standing there, right next to the light from the window however not basking in it themselves, instead forced to be in the shadows of nearby trees. A strong wind blows past and howls, making brown leaves fall from the trees and scatter like flour through a sieve. The windows wobble and lose their glint, the direction sign leans forward and makes a creaking sound, and it is only the barriers that do not move. They stand sturdy and stubborn until the wind has gone.
3:54pm – Four people sit on the benches, two men, and two women. One man whose hair is jet-black apart from his fringe which is blonde, is talking loudly; “mate I’m telling you it’s well freaky…” The other man, who has a shaved head and a good few years on the first man, nods his head. He seems to be nodding in agreement but his eyes are looking off elsewhere and he has a bemused look, making it likely he is nodding more at the fact he is already aware of what the other man is just figuring out, and has been for some time. The two women on the other bench are sitting cross-legged toward each other; One with platinum blonde hair next to dark tanned skin, the other bright red hair the shade of a letterbox. The blond girl wears pink leg warmers over black sheer tights ad keeps bending down to check he back of her legs, searching for a imaginary ladder. “It’s a good deal, it’s not great but it’s ok”, says Red, twirling her hair around her finger in thought.
*
The girl sat next to me is smoking on a cigarette she passes a lighter to the girl she is talking to, however the other girl is unable to keep the lighter lit long enough to light her cigarette. They begin talking about their home life and what they miss. “I especially miss Dave” the girl in the green jacket says as she blows smoke into the air.
There is a girl in the shop looking confused as she searches through the sandwiches, she finally finds one she wants and makes her way to the tills.
The doors constantly open and shut as people are rushing in and out.
Two girls walk past me talking excitedly about their plans for later, laughing as they do.
The boy in the black T-Shirt is stuffing papers into his bag and looks around him, he opens his bag again and pulls out what looks like a campus map, he stares at it intently for a moment. Relief spreads across his face and he walks off in the opposite direction.
Two girls in pink coats stand laughing as they point to items on the shelves in the shop.
There is music playing in the marquee next to me it gets louder as more people enter.
A big group of people is coming towards me; one boy pulls on his jumper as the wind picks up.
The girls next to me light up another cigarette with difficulty the lighter is cursed as it cuts out again.
The girl in the blue top laughs to herself as she enters the marquee, she recognises someone she knows and goes across to talk to them. The boy in the red hoodie follows the girl into the marquee. They all seem to know each other.
A member of the cleaning staff is wheeling a trolley full of cleaning materials through the door she stops for a moment before carrying on.
A mobile phone rings and is answered by a girl in black, she smiles as she talks to the person on the other end.
Two students can be seen laughing and joking behind the halls of residence
next to the road, where multiple cars pile into the campus like a set of
falling dominos.
Walking past the moving vehicles, a young girl on her mobile is quickly
walking away as voices can be heard echoing in the hollow hallways inside.
The sunlight reveals itself from behind the small cotton wool clouds
drifting across the sky with the gentle zephyr, warming the solid ground
below. The gentle breeze slowly nudges the dead leaves on the ground, and
the once bundled debris is now scattered across the sunlit road.
The leaves slowly move past three women, who are busy discussing about how
Peggy describes things, whilst two girls walk by laughing about how the
night before they had been smelling each others hair.
Several birds can be heard in the trees, singing their early autumn song
nestled in the red and gold leaves. Below, three women sound lost as they
continuously ask themselves if they are going the right way. Towards the
right, a man wearing a deep blue top can be heard whistling and seen walking
away with a spring in his step. To the left, a man is seen carrying a box on
his left hand, balanced perfectly like a waiter.
Several students quickly navigate the winding streets of the campus like
mice in a maze, whilst the autumn sun up above begins to sink behind the
clouds, and the gentle breeze of autumn becomes a chilling winter wind.
There’s a builder questioning the reception desk. It only seems like polite banter.
A convoy of students bundle by. They are jabbering and chatting away to each other. It’s a thunderous sound as their feet pound the elevated ground.
You can see passers by through the glass doors on their journey throughout the campus. They seem to flicker by like traffic.
I can hear the sound of typing on the far corner and papers are rustling too.
The sun is beginning to descend sending rays of bright sunshine through the glass exit. The light is almost blinding. Hundreds of fingerprints are now visible on the panes because of it. The tarmac outside reflects the light so strongly it hurts my eyes.
The receptionist answers the telephone. She introduces herself as Pam.
Janet Atkinson
*
Two Men one with a Ladder stand talking to the receptionist. Receptionist looks bored
Is combing her hair and eating an orange
Man drinking coffee from a plastic cup
Man talking loudly on mobile phone Receptionist tells him to turn it off or leave
He leaves and can still be seen outside shouting angrily down the phone
Man in a business suit and shiny black shoes flicks through a folder looks agitated
A couple (Man and Woman) sit opposite not speaking
Various people hurry by from corridors
Young man sits writing next to me
Girl trips up spilling the contents of her bag swears repeatedly
Girl sits nearby eating an apple noisily
Man arrives with planks of wood and goes outside
Woman opposite reads a paper (Daily Mail)
Cleaner arrives to empty the bin
*
Drama Building
Two gentlemen in business clothes walk past, one with a tie and no jacket, the other with a jacket and no tie.
The wind stirs the curving branches that almost reach the ground. Within the confines of this small tree there is just enough room for two lovers to stand face to face, isolated from the world by the curtain of near-dead green leaves. On this cold day, not lovers take advantage of the spot.
A workman in a yellow vest pauses to put down his cases just long enough for a smoke. He tips back his hard hat, re-gathers his load, and is off.
Dead vines creep up the distant wall, stripped of leaves by autumn’s chill knife.
Three tall trees beyond the building sway; the tallest is a gaunt aspen-like tree, framed by two evergreens. As the wind shifts them they lean towards each other, whispering secrets.
A boy I don’t want to talk to comes up, pretending to be a man innocent of all the reasons I don’t want to talk to him.
The wind cleaves through cotton and denim, turning my pale fingers paler with cold.
Red hooded jacket and knit cap with earflaps—a man who doesn’t mind looking a bit silly for he doesn’t need his clothes to show how tough he is.
Mustard trying to be gold—a car drives past.
Almost androgynous, a boy and girl walk past in complimentary if not matching outfits.
Dull red hair and bright yellow stripped jumper toned down by somber gray lines.
“I’m not lying about that,” he protests as he walks by, trying to convince the person on the other end of the cell phone.
Amy Reynolds
CMIS Building
A group of people walk past, talking- some are probably students.
A woman walks past wheeling a box-like thing on wheels. It’s green and blue.
Three girls walk past. All are wearing jeans and they are all talking.
The woman with the box is standing by the roadside. She has long blonde hair and is wearing a black business suit with a red shoulder bag.
A blonde girl wearing a furry black coat walks past. Her high-heeled boots make a long clacking noise on the paving stones.
An old woman in a red jumper leans against a wall to have a smoke out of the chilling wind. As she finishes her cigarette and leaves, two boys- they sound Irish- walk past.
Three students walk past a duck, two girls and a boy. The boy and one of the girls have dark hair, while the other is blonde.
The woman with the box-with-wheels-thing talks to, and then walks away with, an old man in a blue jumper. After they have left, a black-haired girl talks on her phone- and argues with the person on the other end of the phone- about not going to the beach party.
Two middle-aged men meet up and stand talking and smoking. After a minute or so, they move out of the wind.
Finally, an old man in a wheelchair, with one leg, wanders (wheels?) away…
Patrick Thornton
*
Blonde haired girl walks through clutching what seems to be over one hundred blank postcards in her hands. The cashier is laughing as the till continually beeps. A workman walks passed holding milk and sugar. The corridor has a continuous stream of students flowing through its automatic doors now.
Girls stood outside the photo booth discussing bad photos, they giggle together as they struggle to find the coin slot.
The radio plays on in the background.
A cleaner parks her blue and yellow trolley, sighs as she straightens her uniform, then walks, with purpose, into the shop. A lone bottle of coke on top of the photo booth is casually picked up by a man in a grey sweatshirt.
The mixed jangle of car keys and jewellery as a group of girls walk down the corridor, all with mobile phones in their hands. They walk into the shop laughing loudly their comments drifting back “What about her last night!...”
Two male students discussing their time table go to enter the shop but decide against it and leave.
Dark haired girl says to her companion “I want milk”, before heading to the crisps stand.
Danielle Brack
*
A man in black and blue carrying a small child in pink walks across the courtyard. The trees violently rustle in my right ear, in my left silence, with an infrequent tapping from a thick metal pipe running down the building.
The small garden in front of me curves, forcing people into a bottleneck formation. Many people pass me leaving the door to my right. All shapes and sizes some are thin some are large. Some have bling some are bland others dress as what I consider the norm student look: hoody and jeans.
A lad sits on the other end of the bench with his laptop, his hand on his chin as though working on a puzzle his dress sense very skater.
Loud footsteps now emanate from up ahead a small women to my surprise. The man and child return, this time the child has a slight trot as though she is excited about were she is going, her hand falls from her fathers as she runs.
I suddenly notice that the floor beneath me is coated with bird droppings and feathers I look up anxiously.
Some students with scraggly hair struggle to get things out their bags as a lady with blue jeans and red coat passes giving them no eye contact. Two girls voices grab my attention as they break the silence and discuss were to go, both their heads look round as though their in a foreign country.
As things quiet down the tapping of the forgotten laptop gets my attention and my stomach churns with hunger. A group of students pass all wearing waterproof coats and have huge rucksacks as if there off camping their hair is thrown about by the wind.
Two older ladies pass both laughing. A man suddenly turns the corner to were I sit and startle him, he looks like a technician with a name badge and photograph.
Two lads return a foldable camera stand over their shoulder to the main block behind me.
The wind blows against my face, along with clarity it brings muck as it drags up feathers and spirals them in the air creating an impressive tornado effect
A lad walking away from me wears an expensive looking suit jacket with a naff pair of jeans along side his friend wearing a cap an odd mish mash of styles but it works. Two painters appear almost from nowhere talking about eBay and carry their paint-coated cups inside.
*
Group of students walking past, I can hear the faint chanting of “which room are we in, are we going the right way.” From personal experience would appear to be first year students.
Workmen in their hard hats and vibrant jackets, drill away the silence.
The gentle swaying and soft rustling sounds of the plants and bushes that surround the lake.
The brown water that fills the lake gently ripples.
A man in a yellow T shirt sat outside the café drinking from a polystyrene cup, appearing to be enjoying the view.
Students engaged in deep conversation, laughing and joking whilst leaning against the brown wooden slats of the bench.
Birds that occupy the lake squawk and float aimlessly whilst basking in the warmth of the afternoon sun.
Ducks walk cheekily back and forth between the lake and the café unconcerned with the steady flow of human traffic.
The steel black railings that surround the lake contrast heavily with the natural beauty of the plants and wildlife that inhabit it.
A man in a crisp white shirt and black trousers chats on his mobile phone outside the café.
Two women rush past pulling vibrant pink trolley’s, looking as if they are late for an appointment.
An orange tractor shunts debris to one of two large red skips.
Rushing past is a very formal looking woman eager to reach her destination.
Ducks pecking at the neatly cut grass surrounding the lake, squawking as if annoyed that it doesn’t have much to offer.
A seagull flies over the lake diving toward it, then ascends higher and higher before it vanishes over the roof tops.
Jacqueline Brack
*
A lone student jogs around the track methodically, wearing his white vest and grey shorts. His arms and cheeks red from the cold autumn wind. In the distance 3 young men fire a football at the goal keeper. All caged behind the green fencing. To the left of the field, just behind the rugby posts, a group of girls leave a building. Clutching their files tightly to their chests they turn to each other and chat while one girl adjusts her bag on her shoulder.
In the corner to the right there are a cluster of trees, rocking back and forth in the wind over looking the fields and running track. Standing tall they are surrounded by long uncut grass. Behind the trees is the student accommodation, a big building with windows running down the side.
Near to where I stand a green fence circles the whole track, about 2 meters away from the track itself. Beyond the track sits a pit of gravel in the shape of a triangle, its use I have no idea!
*
I walk into the bathroom and see nothing but white tiles smeared with stains of all colours from white to green and black all mixed into one. A person stands before me dressed in faded green jeans with a short rip on the back of the left trouser leg. His shoes are just as dilapidated as they to match the dirty array of colours that are smeared on the wall. There seems to be a stark contrast going on as his top half is much smarter consisting of a clean white shirt with thin lines of grey. His face is a yellowy white and clean shaven. I can’t see his face as he stands urinating and looking to the ceiling. I quickly move over to my urinal spot before his look of urinating pleasure turns to wonder and anger as to why this 1st year student has walked into the toilets with a pen and pad and is staring at him attentively.
The dark blue swing chair beckons me over and I sit down in front of a computer screen that reads please log in. I’m in the library. I look around trying to write down what I see but nothing interesting catches my eye apart from the two boys laughing over a website to my far left and the Goth looking girl to my right who is completely submerged in her own world. Then the moment comes. I see her.
Have you ever seen a girl who is so pretty but not in your face pretty? That’s what I’m seeing now. Have you ever seen such a girl with sky blue eyes that flicker and flitter in a mesmerising dance as it scans a computer screen? That’s what I’m seeing now. Have you ever seen such a nose that is short and pointy but not in the way that makes you immediately think Pinocchio? That’s what I’m seeing now. Have you ever seen such two glossy lips that gleam in the light above where she is sitting, making them seem like two thick slices of tomato? That’s what I’m seeing now. The sky blue eyes dance their way over to my position and stop. Her seemingly smooth pink cheeks with the white surface area draw back. The thick slices of tomato now turn to lean slices of pepperoni as they too retreat and wrap themselves around her soft jaw line. As they retreat an army of around 20 white squares march their way through, with the two Generals at the front. She is smiling at me. I shift in my dark blue chair and crease my jacket in the process as I utter a quick sorry and turn my head and pretend to be looking at something else. She turns back and so do I. Have you ever seen an average sized head, a bit like a pumpkin with purple-red highlights that look like strands of anorexic liquorice? That’s what I’m seeing now. She turns to the side. Have you ever seen a left ear play hide and seek behind hair that looks like strands of anorexic purple strands of liquorice? Peeping itself in and out, poking its round head and then its lobe with a dark spot on it. That’s what I’m seeing now. I don’t know why I keep comparing her to food, maybe it’s because she looks good enough to eat. Or maybe because I’m so damn hungry.
I decide to end this observation before I turn into some kind of stalker and make my way over to her. Past the Goth in black clothes and big brown bag who is still in her own world and finally next to this physical specimen. I explain to her what I’ve been doing and her face creases up as the army of white squares burst through the slices of pepperoni again and the pink cheeks tense themselves up as if in some kind of muscle competition. I look down at my pad of black scribbles and water stains from when I was in the toilet as I ask her name. She laughs and says Becky Cunningham. Have you ever seen such a girl with such features? If you have, her name is Becky Cunningham. She is whom I saw.
Emmanuel Ogwang
*
Outside the Performing arts building
A group of girls swiftly move past me giggling and smiling at each other, a work man then walks past them chatting on his mobile phone. At that moment the University bus revs around the corner as students all bustle out of the Performing arts building shouting at the bus as if it was a person ‘ STOP!’
The sound of the crisp golden brown leaves rustling along the floor and the wild September wind almost drowns out the noise of students rushing around the campus. A man on a moped quickly speeds around the corner that the bus once went and leaves the smell and vision of smoke behind it.
A blind is protruding through a window that has been forgotten about and bangs in rhythm against the red brick wall, at that moment the sound of a door slamming loudly in the Performing Arts Centre echo’s around the whole building. The sound of footsteps soon picks up as every body else is silent and it is as if time has stopped and everything is calm. Not for long though, as a girl walks past rustling a crisp packet after walking out of the building with the electric doors slamming together behind her.
*
The Terrace Café
The first thing that caught my attention in the terrace café happened just as I entered the doors two girls barged there way past me. The first, a tall red haired girl, was listening intensely to the gossip her shorter friend was dishing out. They seemed to have found out what ever “Sammy” was hiding from them.
I then took a seat of the first free table I could find. I found myself absently looking round at the place until a flash of steel caught my I eye. I turned towards the till where a man in a grey pinstriped suit was walking away and immediately the two workers on the tills looked straight down not daring to look at each other.
I looked towards the fridges where two students were lingering mumbling to each other just out of earshot from the two teachers sat in the table In front of them were whispering hurriedly between themselves. Then the taller and the younger of the two threw her arms in the air with a twirl and both of them burst into laughter that forces people to look up at the sudden outbreak of noise.
Then a sudden movement from the tills again force my attention their way. I look round to see my roommate Michael standing their with a bottle in one hand whilst the other is waving at me. He heads towards my table but doesn’t stop “I’m supposed to be in a lecture” he tells me as he walks straight through the double doors behind me.
