Fact Or Fiction?

Finalist in the 'Honoured Writers of 2011' competition

David Yarnold lay awake in his bed; staring at the ceiling fan above him and watching it spin. It was almost hypnotising. “Urgh!” he shook his head in frustration and shut his eyes. This was giving him a headache.
David glanced over at the clock sitting on his dresser. It was about 1pm, and his head was pulsing from his headache. He should get some sleep. He became angry with himself. “Months of researching and learning and I’ve written nothing!” he slumped down under the covers and lay still until he fell asleep.
David woke the next morning as the sun poured in through his window. He sat up abruptly with a look of fear. “Oh, no...” he muttered. He glanced at his watch: 7am! He was going to miss the train to work!
He quickly got dressed and grabbed his things. He shot down the stairs into the street and across up to the train station, just making it on time. He sighed and began writing.
There were two men at opposite ends of the field. Both were in heavily thick armour holding large poles, on horseback. They began to ride, the horses galloped towards each other, gaining speed faster than they gained ground.
When he looked up from his notebook he realised that he wasn’t on the train. He was on a hay bale, in some weird arena. He looked around him; hundreds of people were watching the field. David saw a luxurious throne with a fat king slumped over it like a rug. He waved lazily signalling two horsemen from behind the crowd.
Where was he? Last thing he remembered he was writing in his notebook about...
“A joust!” he realised what was happening. David was amazed! This isn’t possible. He began a new story.
As the casket was carried over the hill, a large group of people bowed their heads in sorrow. A woman all dressed in black was weeping openly. The priest began, “We are gathered in remembrance of Annette Moore, who tragically drowned a few weeks ago.”
David looked up from his notebook and he had again been transported to a new place. He now found himself in a cemetery with a dozen grieving people. He was at the funeral of the character from his story, Annette. He could see her parents gathered over the little girl’s coffin while it was lowered into the earth.
Suddenly David’s eyes widened. He realised it was time the train would be arriving into the city. He had to get back on time, or he would surely be fired.
David Yarnold was sitting on the seat of a train on his way to work. He had been experiencing writer’s block for several months, and was about to be fired, but he was certain that he could change this.
This time, when he looked up, he was back on the train.
David woke up with a start and sat up abruptly. Was that all a dream?


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