Annie without a word limit

N.B. This was my graded unit article The quality is a bit out there, sorry. Eighty-six* ME TOO Sexism in professional kitchens *"86" is a slang term that is used in American popular culture as a transitive verb in the foodservice industry as a term to describe an item no longer being available on the menu. I find it funny how most toy kitchen sets are pink and made for little girls, yet the chefs on TV or film are usually depicted as angry middle-aged men who season each sentence with the word “fuck” like it were a lamb roast. I’ll admit it’s entertaining. On-screen. I have definitely binged through 10 episodes of “Hell’s Kitchen” in a row before and loved every minute of it. However, when you put your whites on and enter a real-life kitchen of a restaurant you are soon burned with the reality of sexism, homophobia, racism, alcoholism, drug abuse, and other isms - the almost unavoidable ingredients. The Michelin Guide for Great Britain and Ireland fo...

N.B. We were asked to produce a script for a radio drama MUSIC: FADE IN INTRO MUSIC 10 SECONDS Narrator: “The revenge plan” episode one. MUSIC: FADE OUT INTRO MUSIC SFX: MAN SCREAMING AND FALLING DOWN A FLIGHT OF STAIRS SFX: STEPS APPROACHING ANN: (SFX: ANN SCREAMS) MATILDA: (SFX: MATILDA GASPS) RAY(voice shaking and gets louder): Shut up. Shut up! SHUT UP!! ANN: Did you do it? Is he… ALL: DEAD? RAY: Check! Go and check his pulse or breathing or whatever!! MATILDA: There’s no way in hell I’m going to go near him again! ANN: Oh, so now you’ve suddenly learned about boundaries? No, queen, you touched him last! Go ahead! MATILDA: That’s uncalled for! Now is really not the time! ANN: Really?? All this time, you had no problem feeling him up behind my back, Matilda! RAY: Oh for God’s sake! I’ll do it! SFX: RAY THUMPING DOWN THE STAIRS RAY: Yeah. Dead. Dead as one can be. Cold. The fat lady has sung. It’s over. MATILDA: Charming... RAY: (SFX: RAY SOBBING SFX: STEPS RUNNING DOWN THE ST...

INT. DAY. Scene location Alice’s room Wide shot of a room that looks like a hospital room but empty for the most part. The room is filled with a harsh white light. There are a metal frame bed and a chair in the room. A woman is sitting on the chair staring at one of the walls. Close up of the woman’s face. We can see a reflection of lights in her pale face and pictures changing in her unblinking dark green eyes. Loud sounds of people arguing, crying, and swearing fill the room. Suddenly a door closes. The woman doesn’t react and continues staring at the wall. Wide shot of the other side of the room, a tall and slim woman is standing in front of a closed white door without a handle. She’s wearing a dark green dress and is carrying a tray of pills of the same colour. The woman has no expression on her face, she looks dead behind the eyes. Nurse: Mandatory 7 hours of unconsciousness are now over. It is now time for your first dose of stage two human emotion correction medication.- She has...

N.B. We were asked to write a script for a couple of scenes in a film or a TV show EXT. DAY. Scene location - a movie set of a costume drama set in the 1920s. The old town, somewhere in Europe, the facade of a piano bar is in the background, wet cobblestone street, the day is grey, foggy. Wide shot of movie set Slowly Zooms in to A Mid shot of two young actors redoing a scene A man, in his late twenties, dressed in a grey, retro suit, and newsboy cap is holding a little younger, a petite woman in a bright red dress and a hat to match with feathers in it. He says something and leans in for a kiss, she grabs onto her hat as she leans back. Cut to a tall woman with a megaphone in hand sitting in the director’s chair. She is wearing all black fitted sportswear and has white hair in a bob cut so sharp it looks like a guillotine from certain angles. Hannah: CUT!!! SERIOUSLY?! Do the last line again!! Back from the top! Action! Cut back to the two actors as they start redoing the scene. K...

N.B. We were given an exercise to produce a feature article on a current and pressing issue. I’m on a bus, on my way to class. As I nervously type what’s now become my own genre classic “I’m sorry I’m late AGAIN” e-mail to my lecturer, deleting and adding words because they don’t sound apologetic enough, I visualise that disappointed glance so well, that it makes me feel that awkward state creep up prematurely. I quickly press “send”, mutter something about Jesus Christ, and look through the window covered in dust and breath condensate. The bus is stuck in traffic. The picture outside the window is moving at about 10 frames per second. I start looking at the people in cars that are shuffling past us, then stop, then go past us again. This reminds me of the “Cha-cha slide”, I laugh to myself. A woman two seats away from me is calling work to inform of her lateness, other passengers follow suit. I notice something that our rival drivers have in common - most of them, if not all, are a...

N.B. The numbers above the stories are flat numbers. It's supposed to be an apartment building. Sonder (n) The realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own. I don’t know about everyone else but I often catch myself walking past houses and thinking “Holy shit, this building is filled with people who are just as alive as me. They have emotions, friends, stories, families, memories, fears, dreams and it’s all happening as I’m casually walking past.” Is that mind-blowing or am I just weird?

I am on my fourth cigarette this morning on an empty stomach. I don’t eat breakfast and for the last two months or so I haven’t even been able to make myself get up 5 minutes earlier to make myself a cup of coffee. Two on my way to the bus stop, two as I get off the bus and walk up to work. Today I feel exceptionally shit. It’s raining, of course, it’s raining, when does it not fucking rain? It’s that disgustingly invasive type of rain, accompanied by strong winds, the type of rain that was made to ruin your day from the moment you open your eyes in the morning, the moment you see that your bedroom is a grey colour and you can’t tell what time of day it actually is and you can barely make out your own reflection in the mirror. The rain and cold seem to seep through every seam of this “waterproof” jacket my mother got me for my birthday two years ago. Loooove the thought, but if you knew my mother, you would know that buying clothing for her 29-year-old, loser, waste of space, still liv...

N.B. "Write a letter to an unknown soldier", was an exercise given to us by our lecturer at the start of the year. I decided to go with a series of letters that show the 5 stages of grief. My dearest husband, Dinner is on the hob waiting for Your return. I understand that You work hard for me and the children and would’ve loved seeing Your wife awake tonight, but I couldn’t have stayed up for any longer. Lottie’s teeth are coming in, she was crying all day and that has left me tired and weak. I’ll see You in the morning, my love! *** Love, It’s been three days. The dinner is still in the kitchen for You. The police have been in and out of the house telling me that You are lost without a trace. I refuse to believe this! Good for nothing clowns! Wherever You may be, know that me, Lottie and Samuel are at home waiting for You. Our son won’t leave me alone with questions. You missed the game You promised him you would attend together. Lottie just keeps crying. No matter wh...