Class Prompt: In Your Pocket
Sep. 29th, 2011 05:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kasihyaThe prompt was to write something about an object that your character has with them at all times. In first person. I'm lucky we didn't have to turn this in today, seeing as I wrote it at midnight this morning and it's craaaaaap. I'm going to do a different version of it so that I don't have to read dialogue aloud; it'll solve the awkward and potentially insulting problem of me having to pretend to have a stammer when reading Kai's lines.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mr. Edwards dangles a chain in front of my nose. I cross my eyes so that it can come into focus: a red lanyard that says 'Mrs. Picadilly's Fresh Fruits and Vegetables' in faded yellow letters. Something jingles on the end of the lanyard out of my line of vision. I squeeze my eyes shut before they freeze facing inward, distracted forever by the lanyard.
I hear him heave a deep sigh that becomes a cough. A calloused hand grabs my wrist, forcing my hand out and uncurling my fingers. Cold metal clinks as it lands in my palm. I open my eyes: the metal is a set of three keys, two pin-tumbler and one skeleton.
'W-w…what're th-these for?' I ask, poking them. They don't move, but you can never be too sure.
'The keys to the shop,' Mr. Edwards tells me, like I'm stupid for not knowing already. He leans in, lowering his voice in case there are spirits or hidden cameras in the building. 'You see, the square head is for the main door. Round head for the back door. The other one goes to the attic. Not my apartment, understand. Don't try poking your big nose in there.'
I rock back on my heels so that it's not obvious I can smell his lunch every time he opens his mouth. I don't want to risk offending him and getting fired, not when I just got promoted to a real, proper employee. 'N-no sir. Thank you, s-s-sir.'
Mr. Edwards squints at me. His wrinkled mouth twists into what might be a smile; I can't always tell with him. 'I've got to get to the cigar shop before that damn Demarest decides to close early.' He lets go of my wrist and turns to leave. I stare at his back until I realize that he must have forgotten something.
'M-m-mister Eedwards! Th-the locking upp …'
'That's your job, sucker!' He waves a hand over his head goodbye. I try very hard to control my face and keep from smiling, but it's difficult. He trusts me. He is leaving me to make sure that the store is safe. I throw my head back and laugh at the ceiling. There's a bubble swelling in my chest and it's going to burst and make a bloody golden mess all over the counter. That would be unfortunate and hard to clean up, so I breathe deeply. The bubble gets stored for later. I go to lock up the store and then I put the lanyard around my neck and go home to show the Huntingtons.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm having a bit of a surreal day. Not sure why. I didn't even realize it until I walked out of Fiction Writing class and saw one of my friends in passing and was very startled to see someone who said hello to me ... which is weird, because I was talking to another guy five minutes previously, and I spent half an hour talking to my dad and sister before lunch ... but somehow those didn't count. Weird and Kai-like, hm ...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mr. Edwards dangles a chain in front of my nose. I cross my eyes so that it can come into focus: a red lanyard that says 'Mrs. Picadilly's Fresh Fruits and Vegetables' in faded yellow letters. Something jingles on the end of the lanyard out of my line of vision. I squeeze my eyes shut before they freeze facing inward, distracted forever by the lanyard.
I hear him heave a deep sigh that becomes a cough. A calloused hand grabs my wrist, forcing my hand out and uncurling my fingers. Cold metal clinks as it lands in my palm. I open my eyes: the metal is a set of three keys, two pin-tumbler and one skeleton.
'W-w…what're th-these for?' I ask, poking them. They don't move, but you can never be too sure.
'The keys to the shop,' Mr. Edwards tells me, like I'm stupid for not knowing already. He leans in, lowering his voice in case there are spirits or hidden cameras in the building. 'You see, the square head is for the main door. Round head for the back door. The other one goes to the attic. Not my apartment, understand. Don't try poking your big nose in there.'
I rock back on my heels so that it's not obvious I can smell his lunch every time he opens his mouth. I don't want to risk offending him and getting fired, not when I just got promoted to a real, proper employee. 'N-no sir. Thank you, s-s-sir.'
Mr. Edwards squints at me. His wrinkled mouth twists into what might be a smile; I can't always tell with him. 'I've got to get to the cigar shop before that damn Demarest decides to close early.' He lets go of my wrist and turns to leave. I stare at his back until I realize that he must have forgotten something.
'M-m-mister Eedwards! Th-the locking upp …'
'That's your job, sucker!' He waves a hand over his head goodbye. I try very hard to control my face and keep from smiling, but it's difficult. He trusts me. He is leaving me to make sure that the store is safe. I throw my head back and laugh at the ceiling. There's a bubble swelling in my chest and it's going to burst and make a bloody golden mess all over the counter. That would be unfortunate and hard to clean up, so I breathe deeply. The bubble gets stored for later. I go to lock up the store and then I put the lanyard around my neck and go home to show the Huntingtons.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I'm having a bit of a surreal day. Not sure why. I didn't even realize it until I walked out of Fiction Writing class and saw one of my friends in passing and was very startled to see someone who said hello to me ... which is weird, because I was talking to another guy five minutes previously, and I spent half an hour talking to my dad and sister before lunch ... but somehow those didn't count. Weird and Kai-like, hm ...
