Under the microscope
Author and lecturer James McCreet puts a reader’s first 300 words under his forensic lens
February 19881
His hopes for a day off school had been raised2 when he’d gone down for breakfast and found his mother listening to Radio Oxford in the kitchen.3 This only ever happened during emergencies such as extreme weather and… well, barring the four-minute warning, it was the only type of emergency situation which seemed likely to occur.4 But without looking up from the squeak and hiss of the iron,5 she told him they’d already read out the school closures and Sir Henry Granger’s wasn’t among them.6
Bollocks!7
‘How you feeling?’ she asked.8
‘Oh. Alright,’ he said, immediately regretting this answer.9 He should have feigned a terrible headache which could be a sign of something potentially serious.10 Was it possible to have concussion two days after being kicked in the head?11
‘Good, well.12 Back to school today, then.’ She indicated two pieces of cold white toast waiting for him on the small formica table.13
‘But —.’14
She glanced up, eyebrows raised to fend off the protest.15
He decided she needed to know:16 ‘They’re saying there’s going to be more snow, though! A weather front coming in from the East — blizzard conditions. The AA are saying not to make journeys unless absolutely necessary.’17 His voice had gone high and squeaky18 making him seem childish and whiney instead of fifteen and worthy of being listened to.19 He cleared this throat.20