Time to write again? Just an idea at this stage.

A spoof centered on an eccentric, quirky woman who experiences a divine vision of the Virgin Mary in a fast food hamburger chain (Virgin appears in a thick shake or smudged napkin or after lifting the top off a Big Macca ?? that mouths the word “stop”. But the question is: stop what? Stop eating junk food? Stop the corporation? Or is the fast food chain a metaphor for Globalisation? The novel/story is her journey to find out what should be stopped: junk food, deforestation of the Amazon, climate change, weird movements that she comes across and is confused by eg stop population growth or stop the movement for zero population growth? Maybe comes to the conclusion to stop her weirdness? Stop worrying? Meets an eccentric guy who wants to save the wales, but he’s not sure about stopping the traditional whaling of the people of Iceland? Accepts weirdness, lives happily ever after? Chapel in her house decorated like a McDonalds?
First Page
Like her life, the day started out being sunny, then became overcast, pending the quickly approaching cold front. Then, the wind changed direction, the temperature dropped, pressure increased and there was a high possibility of rain.
She had often thought. Sometimes, she tried to identify when exactly it was that she started being eccentric; or was it that she was trying to identify when people started thinking she was eccentric. Of course, the existentialist in her would say “same thing”. The pragmatist in her would say “bullshit”. She could never decide between the two.
She used to be cute, she thought. They thought. She was considered to have a joie de vivre. Friends and strangers would laugh when she went “left field”. Then she got…stranger. She started thinking too much, analysing too much and seeing too many alternatives, too many different interpretations. People started rolling their eyes when she walked into a room. They started exchanging furtive glances as she agonised aloud over whether she wanted tea or coffee; for five or six minutes. It became almost impossible for her to decide to want anything. People thought it was weird that she always seemed to be alone. She was good looking, but never seemed to have a boyfriend. She was strange. She knew it.
Carol Azzapardi was now 29 years old but had never had a serious boyfriend. She understood that she was physically attractive to men…or was that her breasts? She disguised their size in loose fitting clothing, just in case. Nice height, she thought. Maybe? Fairly dark hair but not very dark. Green eyes, sort of, or hazel, depending on the light. Slim, yes, to most people, but not to really slim people. She didn’t know if she wanted children; online dating didn’t work.
Today was going to be a big day in the life of Carol Azzapardi. She thought she was going to have a hamburger at McDonnell’s …or something else. She had worked out how to avoid her indecision problem and the staff at her local outlet were used to her. She would simply ask the crew member to choose something for her and eat that. This worked most of the time, unless a new crew member, who didn’t know her, offered a choice between two, or, oh my God, more meal deals. Today she was having a McFeast, fries with that and a small thick shake, any flavour. Easy.



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