Author Topic: The product of the hours 0.00 AM through 4.43 AM.  (Read 15984 times)

MHD

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on: June 12, 2009, 09:45:21 PM
I have been writing on a little tale:
WIP

Quote
“...You're listening to 'Rock like the old days' where we play the things you heard in the middle of the twentieth century. Right now: Sympathy for the Devil by The Rolling Stones...”

Matthew stood up from his chair to stretch his back and legs. He looked down at the various books lying on the table: “Anatomical Atlas,” “The Neural System,” and “The Circulatory,” along with a lot of paper sheets with notes and diagrams. He gaze struck the old typewriter and he wondered why he had gone here to study. He looked around the small wooden cottage, the room dominated by the large stone fireplace where the remains of a log lay smouldering. He checked his watch: 5.30 PM, he'd soon have to consider cooking some food.
His faithful dog, a black Grand-Danois named Charles, raised its head and looked at him.
 “Hey boy, wanna go for a walk?” He said as he grabbed his keys and went over to the door.

They walked down the gravel road towards the nearby village. Charles ran around in between the trees sniffing, digging, marking his territory. It was a new world for a dog used to living in a small apartment on the sixth floor.
 “It's gonna rain soon don't you think boy?” Matthew said looking at the thick grey sky.

 “Hello there lad. What can I get for you?” The shop owner greeted Matthew.
 “Just some groceries.” Matthew said.
 “So, I hear you're reading medicine?” The shop owner asked.
 “That's right. I am writing my Academic specialization.”
 “Ooh, you're gonna be a doctor in a short while then?”
 “Yes. But for now I am just trying to get rid of all distractions. I even have a typewriter.” Matthew said with a smirk.
 “No computer? You really do take it serious don't you?.. Here you go. Bread, carrots, 'tatoes, milk. Anything else?” The shop owner asked.
 “Do you sell ammunition?” Matthew asked.
 “Yea, what do you need?”
 “Just some for hunting small and medium game, 14 G spread shot preferably.”
 “I have just the thing.” The shop owner said and went out back and shortly returned with a small cardboard box. “I need to see your hunters license. Y'know, just in case.”
 “Of course.” Matthew said, took out his wallet and showed his license. “Now while I have it out how much will it be?”
 “52.25 £”

As Matthew walked home it started dripping and he barely got indoors before it really came down.
 “Good thing we made it in time, huh?” Matthew said and hang his wet coat on a coat hanger. Charles shook his wet fur coat leaving droplets everywhere.
 “Now, lets make some dinner.” Matthew said as he poured Charles his feeding bowl full of dog food.
 “Hmm... No meat, it clears the mind. Beans for protein and economics. I gotta get rid of this habit of talking to myself...” Matthew said as he started preparing his meal.

Matthew looked at his watch. It was 7.30 PM.
 “It's getting a little cold” he thought and proceeded to light the fireplace. He was just getting the fire to catch as somebody knocked on his door. Charles looked up from his position in front of the fire and growled.
 “Ho boy, clam down.” Matthew said as he went to open the door.
He opened and saw a young girl standing outside.
 “Hello.” She said. “Can I come in?”
 “Why of course. My godess, you're soaked.”
 “Thanks.” She said in a silent voice.
 “I'll find you some dry clothes, I hope you won't mind wearing mine.” Matthew said. “You hungry?”
 “Yes.” She said almost in a whimper.
 “What's wrong?” Matthew said as he turned to her. She stood in a corner of the room staring at Charles who was looking at her while growling silently.
 “Charles, down boy!” He said but the dog didn't obey. “Down boy!” He said in a sterner voice but still no response. “All right you disobedient canine, you just earned yourself a night outside.”
Matthew took the dog by the collar and pulled to the door, placed it on the doorstep and shut the door while it still growled at the girl.
 “Thanks, I'm afraid of dogs you see.”

 “So you were on your way to town?” Matthew asked her.
 “Yes, my farther needed medicine.” She said.
 “You were on foot?”
 “Yes, I don't know how to ride a bike.”
They sat at the now reasonably cleared table, she was wearing baggy a t-shirt and a pair of his tightest cowboy pants, many sizes too large for her.
 “... What's that marble you're holding?” He asked her.
 “It's a personal artefact. From my grandmother.” She said.
 “It's pretty.”
They sat in silence listening to the thunder for a few minutes.
 “I feel bad for your dog, mister.”
 “Please call me Matthew.”

Matthew woke by having his face graced by sunlight coming in from the window. His back ached from sleeping in a not too comfortable wooden chair. He looked at his watch which read 5.30 PM.
 “Are you awake?” The girl said already dressed in her own clothes.
 “Now I am, at least.”
 “I'll leave now, I am already running late.”
 “I never caught you na...” Matthew said but she was already out the door.
Matthew got up and went out to look for her but she was gone.

Better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self.


D. Ein

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Reply #1 on: June 12, 2009, 10:43:27 PM
I'm very curious as to where this will go! Great read so far.

!!!! , ...

Subject No. III VI +


Virmir

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Reply #2 on: June 13, 2009, 03:34:30 PM
Looks good so far.  A little too early to give detailed comments as I don't have enough to detect the plot yet.  So looking forward to the next part. [:)

[fox] Virmir


Lopez

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Reply #3 on: June 13, 2009, 09:43:35 PM
"My godess, you're soaked!" This one word could go either way, and both ways it would add loads of meaning to the story. Um.....ditto previous two posts. Not much has happened yet. I'll be lurking.

...but that's just my opinion, so don't let it bother you too much!


MHD

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Reply #4 on: June 14, 2009, 11:39:38 AM
"My godess, you're soaked!" This one word could go either way, and both ways it would add loads of meaning to the story. Um.....ditto previous two posts. Not much has happened yet. I'll be lurking.

This gives me an idea...

Better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self.