My Sister's Friend (1)

John was escorted out of his cell. It was the last time he would be. Some other inmates, as he passed, said goodbye. Some even called him by his actual name as opposed to one they've guessed. John, for the past seven years made no real impact on any others. And in a few minutes time, he wouldn't be able to change that.


Jenny was in London on a long weekend. Shopping and seeing a show was all she had planned until Monday afternoon. Then she had to pick up her little brother.

Jenny was aimlessly walking up Oxford Street near closing time for the shops. She had done more than her fair* share to help the economy today. As she started to look for a place to check up on all the day's prizes

The Biography of the boy who would become O W Dawson (8)

    "There's that spark, that unquantifiable thing we all want to say we have, that he has got. I could see he didn't know it too. He's a man who knows where he's going and how to get there but he doesn't, not to my knowledge, know it's easier for him because of that spark."

        "There have been many times I wished he'd be more serious, more like the sincere characters he has played, but to wish that is like wishing away some of the best moments we've had together. He struggled to start with because of this lack of, say, maturity, but that's because this business has lost some of it's child-like innocence, which he still has. He's not by any means a child, but the world around him still brings an enjoyment which many of us lost."

The Biography of the boy who would become O W Dawson (7)

      "He's great to be around. Easy to get on with. Just easy. He's more interested in making things easier for everyone else than the goal at hand. A real social person. Spending time with him is like a black hole, you could be with him and not realise you've just wasted  two or three hours. It's not right to say wasted, no time is wasted with him, it all just a good time. He's not burdened by deadlines or appointments, he can charm his way out of any lateness, it's like people just understand why. I can imagine they would think it was the other's not letting him go rather than him."

   "One thing I would add, secretly, on his own, he works really hard but he does it away from other people. Whenever he's needed to have worked, he has. He just does it privately, shyly away from others. I don't know why, but it does add to that image he has."

     "I don't think he's arrogant, I know a lot of other people, people, I might add, who don't actually know him, say he's arrogant. Maybe, you could level self-assured at him, but in this line of work, we all are self-assured."

The Biography of the boy who would become O W Dawson (6)

       "When I knew him whilst we did the architecture degree, up in Glasgow, it was awkward.
I didn't know how to act around him. I wasn't the only one too. I guess some of us didn't get him. I was all awkward and difficult. He either planned it that way or just wasn't aware of it. The strange thing was he did nothing to help the situation, it was almost like he liked it."
                                        
       "Then, a couple of years later, due to a mutual friend, he came to visit us in London. It was amazing how different it was. To be honest, I didn't think that much of him before then, now, I think he's one of those people who could do anything they wanted in life, I just don't know why it took him so long."

lifted from my electronic note pad, use later and not all at once

The lines have been drawn, the frontiers made. Borders and barriers creating division.

The lines start to construct a definition, a relationship of what is belonging and what is foreign.

Without these frontiers a state cannot begin to exist. It is these borders which not only create barriers newly defined objects, they also open an opportunity for dialogue.

This example is when dialogue is replaced by physical and emotional division. The future did need not be a fortress.

A castle wall higher than imaginable separated a people. Divided and with time, the emotional bonds were replaced.

No longer are lines drawn.
Gone are the frontiers, borders and barriers.

Lost are the ties. Division and space fill the voids where the marks once laid.

Once separated, parts, no matter how close can only stay as individual components. The opportunity for one has passed.


Sent from a mobile device

He was in the same vein as Fleming wrote about his character

He was cold. Completely without any hint of a human trait. Almost Teutonic with his efficiency to do his job. But he was only his job. A series of events in his past took all the rest of a life away. He was not so much scared, as striped bare. There was nothing left to lose. He only had his loyalty to his employer to motivate him. It was his eyes that always gave this dire condition away. Yes he could be charming, but only as charming as a well built Swiss time piece. It was hard to get passed his dead look in the eyes, even when his soft lips were smiling and his body language was positive. It was all an act. And people in the same game knew it. That's what made it so devastating to watch. He would make the moves, talk the lines, smile and touch, but he could chill anything but the hottest of suns. But for him, it was a job; a task, a series of tasks. Whether they be interacting with others or tying up his employer's loose ends, they were all just tasks. Tasks for the only one who he could trust, the only one left; his employer; the country; the crown.

The Biography of the boy who would become O W Dawson (5)

The boy, still a boy, was starting slowly in the business.

On only his second job as an extra, he was craving attention. He, although not the focus of the filming, he was starting to hone his reaction to the camera. Now not intimated of them or their gaze. He was noticing, in the three camera set up, which camera was filming, moving his gaze from camera to camera via the sometime obscured multiview monitor showing all the feeds, without looking at all obvious. The multiview was what the director could see, choosing and switching from the different feeds. The boy was also listening to everything that was going on around him between takes. He knew all about where the cameras were going, his spatial relationship to them, he was aware of the microphone set ups and almost everything needed for the takes. He did this without making a sound, without asking questions, without any member of the crew noticing. He felt like an intruder hiding in the shadows, but he was right in the middle of things, the stillness at the centre of a small storm. He loved it. He loved it that way.

When not in the studio, between longer breaks, the people not needed retired to a small room next door. He didn't speak to anyone unless they spoke to him first. it wasn't out of arrogance or shyness, not this time. It was because he felt comfortable. For the first time for a long time, he was completely comfortable in himself. He was happy to sit there on his own, not engaging with people close around. The other people however, were not so. A first-time extra, about 17 or so had arrived first to the table they shared. The boy didn't introduce himself as he joined him, nor did the 17 year old. The boy did this out of choice, the 17, maybe out of rudeness, maybe out of intimidation. All day the icy silence between them grew.
Only one of them was enjoying this awkwardness.
Was this the start of O W's persona; a silent, cold exterior without a hint of any engagement or welcome? The boy was like this to some people anyway, but out of shyness, a teenage-like social awkwardness he sometimes could do little about. In the past, these moments chose him, but this time, with the other extra, he chose the moment.
He wondered what the 17 year old was thinking. By the end of the near 12 hour day, he felt slightly guilty for not taking the step. But he was more than polite to the 17 year old. He made eye contact when holding the doors open for him and smiled as he passed, but never truly broke the ice.
Maybe this was another social misfit.