Post by snowkitty on Sept 21, 2007 19:46:34 GMT -5
This is something very random that I wrote in English class today. We were talking about writing opening paragraphs and I was completely bored out of my mind, so I starting doodling. I finished a doodle and decided there must be a story that goes along with it.
It was evident from the start that he was a very well-to-do man - he wore a high-collared suit which was draped over with a coat of ermine; the thick collar reached the tip of a well-groomed little beard, topped by a neat moustache. His hair, however, dark as his unfriendly eyes, was loose and flying free. It made me hate him all the more.
He moved very swiftly, as though he had somewhere important to be - he had. I, however, stood quite still and watched him come forth, not offering any greeting.
It was he, of course, who broke the silence.
"I expect you demand some sort of payment."
I nodded, though I knew he could not see - the dark which had crept over the city had also reached my home, as much as I tried to ward it away.
"May I come in?"
I nodded again and let him pass. He stepped over the threshold with an air of little interest.
"Many great kings have passed through this very room," said I; he simply settled himsefl on a wooden chair, looking unimpressed. My only quality to boast of was dismissed easily by the stranger.
"I see." The politeness was, as usual, a facade. Most didn't ask anything past my skill in burglary, and he was apparently no different. There would be no conspiracy past the initial stake-out, no friendship, and no loyalty. I didn't expect loyalty.
"Dougal."
I didn't offer a name.
"What is your price, I ask?" The previously tight voice now flooded smoothly over the room. Ah, so he was that kind. I called them the "Hassles" - the people who thought they could strike a bargain.
"Two thousand pounds."
"Two thousand!"
"And no less."
"Two thousand!"
"A thief must eat."
"Two thousand!"
"Business or none," I said irritably. The stranger laughed - like a horse - and shook his head.
"My friend, I offer no more than a thousand and five hundred."
"Two and a hundred."
He looked vaguely worried. "One and six hundred, then. You realize I have much to lose -"
"As have I. Two and two hundred."
"Very well!" he exclaimed, looking unhappy. I was surprised he gave in so quickly - I'd been looking forward to more protest.
Critique? Suggestions on where this is going?
It was evident from the start that he was a very well-to-do man - he wore a high-collared suit which was draped over with a coat of ermine; the thick collar reached the tip of a well-groomed little beard, topped by a neat moustache. His hair, however, dark as his unfriendly eyes, was loose and flying free. It made me hate him all the more.
He moved very swiftly, as though he had somewhere important to be - he had. I, however, stood quite still and watched him come forth, not offering any greeting.
It was he, of course, who broke the silence.
"I expect you demand some sort of payment."
I nodded, though I knew he could not see - the dark which had crept over the city had also reached my home, as much as I tried to ward it away.
"May I come in?"
I nodded again and let him pass. He stepped over the threshold with an air of little interest.
"Many great kings have passed through this very room," said I; he simply settled himsefl on a wooden chair, looking unimpressed. My only quality to boast of was dismissed easily by the stranger.
"I see." The politeness was, as usual, a facade. Most didn't ask anything past my skill in burglary, and he was apparently no different. There would be no conspiracy past the initial stake-out, no friendship, and no loyalty. I didn't expect loyalty.
"Dougal."
I didn't offer a name.
"What is your price, I ask?" The previously tight voice now flooded smoothly over the room. Ah, so he was that kind. I called them the "Hassles" - the people who thought they could strike a bargain.
"Two thousand pounds."
"Two thousand!"
"And no less."
"Two thousand!"
"A thief must eat."
"Two thousand!"
"Business or none," I said irritably. The stranger laughed - like a horse - and shook his head.
"My friend, I offer no more than a thousand and five hundred."
"Two and a hundred."
He looked vaguely worried. "One and six hundred, then. You realize I have much to lose -"
"As have I. Two and two hundred."
"Very well!" he exclaimed, looking unhappy. I was surprised he gave in so quickly - I'd been looking forward to more protest.
Critique? Suggestions on where this is going?