Esther Chilton

This week’s writing prompt is:

WORK

My first job was working in Halfords, a British car parts retailer. I’ll never forget the enormous overalls I had to wear. I left Halford’s after a few months for McDonald’s, which offered much better pay – and free food! But I hated the job and lasted three weeks. I had several more Saturday jobs before leaving college and working in a bank. I don’t like numbers so I don’t know how I ended up there. A few years later, I had an injury that prevented me from working at the bank so I turned to writing. The rest, they say, is history. What does work mean to you?

You don’t have to share your work, but I always enjoy seeing what you come up with if the prompt gives you inspiration. Your last prompt was HOME. Here’s the work you shared:

Christine Mallaband-Brown:

I hear the accent of a fellow midlander and I’m home again. There’s a twang, a sound that I recognise. I tentatively ask them if they will say where they are from. Usually I get a friendly response. Then we discuss where we come from. Either the same town or close by. Memories of town centres, historic areas, parks and zoos. So many things have changed. But hearing a friendly voice takes me back over 40 years to when I left. I can’t go back, my family has all left, homes sold. Only a couple of relatives and friends left and I can’t drive far so it’s out of the question to go. But I’d like to drive down on a nostalgic trip. Some negotiation with friends required as I couldn’t get on a train on my own I don’t think. Anxiety is not a good friend.

Keith Edgar Channing:

Where have I lived over the past 75 years? Exeter, Paignton, Newquay, Stoke Gabriel (Devon), Luton, Dubai, Lagos (Nigeria), Njombe and Madaba (Tanzania), Plymouth, Andover, Cholderton (Wilts), Durrington (Wilts), Pionsat (France) and currently Doncaster. My roots (and my sisters) are in Exeter but I don’t really think of it as home. In the words of Marvyn Gaye (or Paul Young; if you prefer), wherever I hang my hat, that’s my home.

Kim Smyth:

Home to me is my heart, Mississippi. However, that is just my birthplace, I grew up from aged 7 in Texas. Now, though, my “home” is our motorhome as we travel around the US, chasing those 70’s-ish temps. Home base, is my brother’s house in NRH, Tx. So home means many things to me, but like Keith says, where ever I hang my hat is home.

Tessa Dean:

“This will be your new home,” my children told me. The newly renovated and promising place filled me with hope and excitement. I chose a room with a view and close to the dining room, envisioning the three meals a day that were to be provided.

I moved in over a year later when the place finally opened up. The state delayed getting the correct licensing. Luckily, I could stay at the apartment I had been living in. Many people could not wait that long and had to move into other places, including places that didn’t have private rooms like they offered at the place I was going.

They had a ‘ meet your neighbor ‘ lunch about a year before opening (although we thought we were moving in within a few months). The food was wonderful, and we were all happy to think we would have such wonderful food. When we finally moved in, the food was terrible, and the chef who had previously cooked for us was no longer there. To this day, the food sucks bad. It is not edible. There is no variety, it is not cooked, or it is overcooked, and it is served late every day, and since there are two sittings, that means those of us on the first sitting have very little time to eat before they shoo us out of the dining room for the second shift to come in.

Finally, moving in, we quickly learned that there had been many changes since we were first told how things would be. We are all disappointed in how things have ended up. There are constant rule changes, and they don’t have any discipline. The staff calls out constantly, and we are always shorthanded, and nothing is done about it. Dietary is out of control, and despite promises to the contrary, the food is not edible. We were promised a van to take us to our appointments, which isn’t looking too promising either. The lack of a reliable transportation service has made it difficult for many of us to attend our medical appointments on time, which is crucial for our health and well-being. 

Due to staff shortages, we often receive our medications at the wrong time or not at all. This is more than just inconvenient. It’s dangerous. We need our meds on time, every time. The constant turnover in staff means they don’t get to know us, adding to our worry and fear.

The only good thing is that we have private rooms, which is very important to us as we have heard horror stories about the theft with the roommates stealing from each other. Some of our residents have lost valuable items due to theft. We have a lot of theft here, and our doors lock, but the aides and nurses don’t lock them when they come out. If I lock my door, I expect it to be locked when I get back to it.

This is my home, and I am not very happy about it, but I can do nothing about it. They just fired our executive administrator, and we are all hoping for big changes in our favor. One can always hope.

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