Third time’s the charm, they say. Maybe it’s just because I was happy to be on vacation, or maybe it’s because I wrote this free writing only a month after the previous one instead of six, but I think I hit a pretty nice groove with this one. Merry belated Christmas, everyone! :D
This was the first story I wrote in “Intro to Creative Writing” during my sophomore year at Virginia Tech. Warning: Melodrama follows. Written February 10th, 2010
“How Does the Other Half Live?”
_ | _
A harsh skidding sound accompanied the skip of a heartbeat. David had slipped on the ice that thinly coated the sidewalk. A nearby municipal worker saw this. “Be careful, sir,” he warned. “I haven‟t scraped this sidewalk yet.” Perfect. Well, this is a wonderful way to start the day, David thought. He had already overslept and was going to be late for work. Slipping and taking sidewalk detours were not what he needed. Otherwise, however, it was a pretty nice day. The constant snowfall had let up—at least temporarily—from the night before and the air was crisp. Purified, as if by a reverse crucible. A gentle late-January sun reflected off the skyscrapers of Manhattan. Despite being in a hurry, David was trying to appreciate the morning. He was a block away from work when his heart skipped again.
A note before we begin: These works are presented unedited from when they were finished. This one was written in Spring of 2006
A short playe naméd The Winter of Discontent Turned Summer by a Great Dragon Spewing Fire Everywhere
Personæ Dramatis and people of the playe:
Baroness Jennifer Fetterman, liegeman of Londinium
David Liggett, said to be the boyfriend of Jennifer
Franco Oberes, High Jumper and Runner
Young José, imported slave
Principal Emilio Fernandez, Sage
Act I Scene I
Baroness Jennifer Fetterman was borne in London, England under the reign of Emperor Arthur MacArthur in the era of Kingdomcome. Beholdeth and behest, a great neesing leviathan torment’d the city of London. Many men tried as they may to kill the great monstre, yea, but succeeded not. Save one man, the great knight Sir Crapsalot, dar’d with great valor and an extra toothbrush to seek out this monster and put a stop to his nefarious agonite. Now it came to pass that the squire of Sir Crapsalot was a squirrelish boy naméd Franco Oberes. This young beefy boy could jump higher than a house (although so can I; have you ever seen a house jump?) and beheld the ability to run alongside a horse. In fact, he did. Sir Crapsalot held no part in sharing his horse with a squire. Now it came to pass that in that day of discontent entreated Emperor MacArthur his son and Baroness Fetterman to a feast in the court.