James the Pirate
Ding Dong the door bell sang! As the door opened James and his sister Addie cried,” trick or treat!” James was eight and his sister was five. The night was Halloween and the world was full of possibilities. James was dressed as a pirate and Addie was a fairy. James was tall for an eight year old and he loved pirates all kinds of pirates and today he was Jack Sparrow! It made James a little sad that it was only a fantasy.
The thing about Halloween is that it is a special day of year and sometimes just sometimes little boys and girls, if they wish especially hard then maybe, just maybe the wish comes true….
That night James retujavascript:void(0)rned to his room a pillow case full of Booty. As he got dressed in his striped pajamas he looked around his room decorated like a pirate’s cove. The bed was built into a pirates ship complete with mast and rob that could be climbed and wasn’t just for looking at. The lamp which his mother had made for him was a palm tree. The wall was painted with a scene of another ship in the distance and James who had a roll top desk (because all captains need a desk) that had been picked up a garage sale, along with a high back chair. James prize possession was a real hand scope that his father had bought him for his eighth birthday.
Climbing into bed James wished especially hard that he could see a real pirate and be at sea…
After a time James awoke to the sound of the sea and waves crashing around him; He could feel the sun beating on his legs and He sat on the wreckage of a ship. As he looked behind him he could see his room fading from view. The only exception was the telescope which had a note that read.
James-
Simply look through me and say the words. “home, home is where I wanna be home is the place for me!”
Looking around James saw the saw the in the distance was not actually heading away from him but heading his direction…
Saturday, November 22, 2008
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Journal Post 2 for week 11
7 or 8 things
Perogies
John hates them with a passion. His mother thinks that he really loves them but when he was a kid he used to get made fun of for eating “weird” food. He can’t bite into one without remembering what polish jokes.
Antiques
John loves to go to antique shows. Every year there is a antique fair down in Brainerd and without fail he takes three days off to go “find treasure”, with his mother. For the week following he tortures his family with tales of all the old crap he found.
Horses
John is mortally afraid of horses. When he was a kid he went to summer camp up North. One day while on a trail ride the saddle slipped and turned under the young man so that he was riding on the belly of the horse. Just being around them is enough to give him a nervous twitch.
Broccoli
John HATES the taste of broccoli! He almost gags any time that it is put in front of him. His, wife mother and even daughters make fun of the faces he makes while eating it.
Spiders
John dislikes killing spiders and often will take mercy on them by placing them behind a piece of furniture so that his wife will not demand their sacrifice.
Vinegar
John has an affinity for the taste of vinegar and other briny. He has since he was a child when he would get yelled at by his parents for drinking all the pickle juice or for sipping from the olives.
The Finger
Once when he was a kid John slammed his finger in a car door breaking it. It took several months to heal and it still aches from time to time. The scare that it left on his index finger is what he uses to tell left from right when he gets confused.
Perogies
John hates them with a passion. His mother thinks that he really loves them but when he was a kid he used to get made fun of for eating “weird” food. He can’t bite into one without remembering what polish jokes.
Antiques
John loves to go to antique shows. Every year there is a antique fair down in Brainerd and without fail he takes three days off to go “find treasure”, with his mother. For the week following he tortures his family with tales of all the old crap he found.
Horses
John is mortally afraid of horses. When he was a kid he went to summer camp up North. One day while on a trail ride the saddle slipped and turned under the young man so that he was riding on the belly of the horse. Just being around them is enough to give him a nervous twitch.
Broccoli
John HATES the taste of broccoli! He almost gags any time that it is put in front of him. His, wife mother and even daughters make fun of the faces he makes while eating it.
Spiders
John dislikes killing spiders and often will take mercy on them by placing them behind a piece of furniture so that his wife will not demand their sacrifice.
Vinegar
John has an affinity for the taste of vinegar and other briny. He has since he was a child when he would get yelled at by his parents for drinking all the pickle juice or for sipping from the olives.
The Finger
Once when he was a kid John slammed his finger in a car door breaking it. It took several months to heal and it still aches from time to time. The scare that it left on his index finger is what he uses to tell left from right when he gets confused.
Friday, November 7, 2008
Week 11 journal 1
John a tall man, about six foot four, who easily weighs two hundred fifty pounds. His doctor once told him that he needs to lose weight and he honestly tries but it never seems to work. He trains and trains but never loses his middle. Last summer he started performing in triathlons but still the middle remained much to his chagrin. He often joked to his wife,”who needs a six pack when you have a keg!” John had a full shock of sandy brown hair and was clean shaven, except in the winter or when he was feeling lazy.
Saturday, November 1, 2008
week 10 journal 2
By the time you read this I will have packed my bags,, gotten my passport, hired a taxi, and been driven to the airport. I will have boarded the plane to Italy and be somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean.
journal 1 for week 10
While we had dinner my mother was complaining about her neighbor whose cat Josie is always shiting in her garden. These too have lived next to each other for ten years and they can’t stand each other, well for the most part they can’t stand each other. Just as are discussing the situation my mother starts cursing like a sailor.
Mother fuckin cat’s out there right now! I swear to god I am going to kill that no god for nothing vermin! I look out the window and laugh as the orange tabby is starting to take a dump on my mother’s lettuce. My mother gives me a look that would freeze hell over and jumps up from the table spilling her beer and knocking over the salt and pepper along with her chair.
Rushing to the door she pauses for just a moment to consider her choice of weapon, much the way a man going into battle might choose the best weapon for combat. Deciding quickly she picks up the umbrella and barrels out the door wielding the umbrella like a sword!
Moments after leaving the house my mother is in the garden but things are not going so well since it rained last night and the garden is all muddy. She must have chosen a poor spot to stand because and she reaches the cat she slips going face down in the mud the umbrella opening on impact. Scaring the shit out of the cat, causing it to leap at my mother as she hits the ground hard, “Oomph!”, back arched it is hissing at the top of its lungs, while digging all of its claws into her back.
I rush out the door into the garden being careful not to slip when just as my foot comes down the cat flies underneath tripping me. I fall face first into the mud crushing my mother zucchini. My mother looks up at me with a look that was so pitiful I had to laugh. She looked like she was going to hit me for a moment and then she started laughing as well…
Mother fuckin cat’s out there right now! I swear to god I am going to kill that no god for nothing vermin! I look out the window and laugh as the orange tabby is starting to take a dump on my mother’s lettuce. My mother gives me a look that would freeze hell over and jumps up from the table spilling her beer and knocking over the salt and pepper along with her chair.
Rushing to the door she pauses for just a moment to consider her choice of weapon, much the way a man going into battle might choose the best weapon for combat. Deciding quickly she picks up the umbrella and barrels out the door wielding the umbrella like a sword!
Moments after leaving the house my mother is in the garden but things are not going so well since it rained last night and the garden is all muddy. She must have chosen a poor spot to stand because and she reaches the cat she slips going face down in the mud the umbrella opening on impact. Scaring the shit out of the cat, causing it to leap at my mother as she hits the ground hard, “Oomph!”, back arched it is hissing at the top of its lungs, while digging all of its claws into her back.
I rush out the door into the garden being careful not to slip when just as my foot comes down the cat flies underneath tripping me. I fall face first into the mud crushing my mother zucchini. My mother looks up at me with a look that was so pitiful I had to laugh. She looked like she was going to hit me for a moment and then she started laughing as well…
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Blind date
We had agreed to meet at the Palomino for drinks in order to get o know each other. He had described himself as six foot two weighing around 240. The pictures that I received were of a good looking man who obviously worked out and took care of himself. I had been about to give up on the online dating scene due to some really bad dates. There was this one guy Sam who asked me over and over on our first date if I had questions or comments. I mean this guy would not let the question go. He would interrupt a conversation in the middle to ask if I had “questions or comments?” every five minutes or so. I ended up paying for both of our dinners when his credit card declined…loser.
This guy though seemed to have his shit together. We had talked for nearly an hour the night before and while we didn’t share everything in common we at least had good jobs and loved great food and wine. This late in life I find that hobbies matter little as long as you like each other. He at least knew enough social grace to not ask me if I had any questions or comments.
In any case I had arrived at the restaurant about 25 minutes early as there was a snow storm in Minneapolis. While I waited I sipped a glass of wine and watched people. Several minutes later I receive a call from Erik telling me that he will be late because his car is stuck. I offer to blow the restraint off and pick him up as I drop a twenty for the wine and put on my coat.
While I am driving through the Minneapolis streets in a blizzard I notice that the streets are very slick take it slow even though I drive an BMW X5 though I seem to be the only one slowing down. It takes me about 20 minutes to find Erik. I find him in his car, a prius, and he climbs into my car carful to shake off the snow.
He is slightly heavier than his picture suggests but not to the point of being dishonest. At least I think. We are both starving and he suggests that we try something different, Somali food at a restraint he has heard of called the red tail café. I agree as I am always up for a something new. On the drive over we talk about many things getting along great. When as I am stopped at a light a car making a turn loses control and doing a 360 crashes into my X5 on the passenger side, I am left dazed but Erik is shouting for help. As I look over I see that his face is white with tension and I notice that the door is crushed in on his right arm and leg. The driver in the other car is already a calling for help on his cell phone. I stay with him, talking to him, letting him know that it is ok. Several minutes later help arrives and the Jaws of Life are needed to extract Erik from the wreckage. I am unsure where to go so I get in the ambulance going to the hospital. On the way Erik takes hold of my hand and smiling, though he is in awful pain, asks me on another date, one without police.
This guy though seemed to have his shit together. We had talked for nearly an hour the night before and while we didn’t share everything in common we at least had good jobs and loved great food and wine. This late in life I find that hobbies matter little as long as you like each other. He at least knew enough social grace to not ask me if I had any questions or comments.
In any case I had arrived at the restaurant about 25 minutes early as there was a snow storm in Minneapolis. While I waited I sipped a glass of wine and watched people. Several minutes later I receive a call from Erik telling me that he will be late because his car is stuck. I offer to blow the restraint off and pick him up as I drop a twenty for the wine and put on my coat.
While I am driving through the Minneapolis streets in a blizzard I notice that the streets are very slick take it slow even though I drive an BMW X5 though I seem to be the only one slowing down. It takes me about 20 minutes to find Erik. I find him in his car, a prius, and he climbs into my car carful to shake off the snow.
He is slightly heavier than his picture suggests but not to the point of being dishonest. At least I think. We are both starving and he suggests that we try something different, Somali food at a restraint he has heard of called the red tail café. I agree as I am always up for a something new. On the drive over we talk about many things getting along great. When as I am stopped at a light a car making a turn loses control and doing a 360 crashes into my X5 on the passenger side, I am left dazed but Erik is shouting for help. As I look over I see that his face is white with tension and I notice that the door is crushed in on his right arm and leg. The driver in the other car is already a calling for help on his cell phone. I stay with him, talking to him, letting him know that it is ok. Several minutes later help arrives and the Jaws of Life are needed to extract Erik from the wreckage. I am unsure where to go so I get in the ambulance going to the hospital. On the way Erik takes hold of my hand and smiling, though he is in awful pain, asks me on another date, one without police.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Journal 1 week four
What makes me...
Happy.
1. Being home
2. Being right
3. The sound of my wife’s laughter
4. When my kittens fall asleep on my lap.
5. Having a full fridge and cupboard.
6. Working out
7. Sleeping in
8. Cooking
9. Video games
10. Volunteering
Want to Cry.
1. Not being able to articulate what I feel in words.
2. Trying as hard as I can and still not succeeding.
3. Not being sure that there is something more to existence.
4. Friends that I no longer talk too.
5. Wondering if my writing is any good or just trite.
6. Wish you were here by Pink Floyd (inspired by Alexandra K)
7. Not getting the most out of the day (usually from sleeping to late).
Afraid
1. Failure- Not being able to make a life for my family is the type of failure I am talking about. It can involve money but does just include that. I also mean failure to realize potential.
2. Death-self explanatory
3. Loneliness
4. Leaving those I love alone.
5. My cancer returning…
Happy.
1. Being home
2. Being right
3. The sound of my wife’s laughter
4. When my kittens fall asleep on my lap.
5. Having a full fridge and cupboard.
6. Working out
7. Sleeping in
8. Cooking
9. Video games
10. Volunteering
Want to Cry.
1. Not being able to articulate what I feel in words.
2. Trying as hard as I can and still not succeeding.
3. Not being sure that there is something more to existence.
4. Friends that I no longer talk too.
5. Wondering if my writing is any good or just trite.
6. Wish you were here by Pink Floyd (inspired by Alexandra K)
7. Not getting the most out of the day (usually from sleeping to late).
Afraid
1. Failure- Not being able to make a life for my family is the type of failure I am talking about. It can involve money but does just include that. I also mean failure to realize potential.
2. Death-self explanatory
3. Loneliness
4. Leaving those I love alone.
5. My cancer returning…
Sunday, September 14, 2008
I Don’t Know Why I Remember
I was thirteen and had been paddling for more then five days. I was tired and hot and wanted fresh food. All of us were hungry and tired. We had just walked the longest portage in the boundary waters, known as the Grand Portage into Grand Marete. We were sitting in the pizzas parlor called Sven and Ollie’s and we were dirty, sticky young men who needed a bath, but wanted something to eat more then anything.
Finally!!! The pizza, well 15 pizzas arrived and we dove into the food like we hadn’t eaten in weeks. I can still remember the taste of the pepperoni all these years later, hot and spicy on my tongue. It was best piece of pizza I have ever had.
Finally!!! The pizza, well 15 pizzas arrived and we dove into the food like we hadn’t eaten in weeks. I can still remember the taste of the pepperoni all these years later, hot and spicy on my tongue. It was best piece of pizza I have ever had.
Journal III: James and the Snipe
James was so excited to be going to camp for the summer! This was his first time away from home for any time longer then a night and now he was going to spend two weeks away at a place he had only heard about Camp Nerrew! According to the brochure they had hiking, archery, horseback riding and camping trips!
A young man of ten, he was tall for his age, wearing rimless glasses with shaggy long brown hair. He smiled often and was often in his own fantasy world. One of the things he was most excited about was the camping trip to the boundary waters.
When the campers first arrived they were quickly put into groups by age and then divided into cabins. James was with ten other boys his age and two counselors Peter and Tom. James was an intermediate, meaning that he was older then the youngest campers, known as the cubs (or cubbies if you were making fun of them) and the oldest campers, known as seniors. This was done on a green lawn, near a wood chipped path, overlooking a lake.
James unpacked his belongings and got onto the daily groove of things. Up at revelry, breakfast, service activity, morning activity, lunch, rest hour, afternoon activity, dinner, evening games, and bed time; day in and out it was the same thing over and over when suddenly the end of the first week came and it was time to pack for the camping trip.
The trip was three days and two nights long and there were all sorts of things to learn. James was not new to camping but this was different. Everyday the group would seek a new campsite and camp in a different place. One of the older kids told James about Snipe hunting while on a camping trip. James didn’t know what a Snipe was and so he asked his counselors, who seemed to think that a snipe hunt would be a fine idea. They explained that a Snipe is a flightless bird that only comes out at night and is so stupid it will flee towards a person holding a sack, thinking that the sack was the opening to its burrow. For some reason they told the cabin this information with large grins on there faces.
The first night out the group camped on a small island, with a large rock face looked out onto a lake. The island was covered with fur trees and pines and smelled of caramel. After pitching there tents and cooking dinner the group sat down and starting talking about the plans for tomorrow, showing the boys the map when James asked about going for a Snipe hunt. The counselors agreed, after a quick conversation. They told the group that for a snipe hunt you must not wear any bug repellent, or shirt, and that you need to go hunting only after midnight, without falling asleep. They offered the sack to James, teaching him the call of the Snipe coooowwwaaaacchhhhheehheeeee, and wished him luck in the snipe hunt.
Shortly after this most of the campers fell asleep from a hard day of paddling but not James, he fought the fatigue and when his watched beeped midnight he sprang up from his sleeping bag determined to catch a snipe! Stripping off his shirt he strode (well stumbled) into the woods, slapping bugs as he went. After a few moments he let out his first call coooowwwaaaacchhhhheehheeeee and there was no response, nothing happened, after another few moments he let out another call coooowwwa – aaacchhhhheehheeeee and still no response. This went on for an hour, then two, finally James was feeling discouraged give one last call coooowwwa-
Aaacchhhhheehheeeee before going home. Suddenly there was a flutter near him and he heard a call that sent shivers down his spine, coooowwwaaaacchhhhheehheeeee. Raising his sack he called again, and the call was returned when suddenly he felt a great impacted as something flew into his sack and started pecking at him. Frightened, James opened the sack and turned on his flash light, only to see a bird about the size of a hen, with no wings running away from him.
When James told his counselors about the snipe he had captured they became serious and took him aside. They told James that there is no such thing a snipe and that it was all a game…
James knew better….
A young man of ten, he was tall for his age, wearing rimless glasses with shaggy long brown hair. He smiled often and was often in his own fantasy world. One of the things he was most excited about was the camping trip to the boundary waters.
When the campers first arrived they were quickly put into groups by age and then divided into cabins. James was with ten other boys his age and two counselors Peter and Tom. James was an intermediate, meaning that he was older then the youngest campers, known as the cubs (or cubbies if you were making fun of them) and the oldest campers, known as seniors. This was done on a green lawn, near a wood chipped path, overlooking a lake.
James unpacked his belongings and got onto the daily groove of things. Up at revelry, breakfast, service activity, morning activity, lunch, rest hour, afternoon activity, dinner, evening games, and bed time; day in and out it was the same thing over and over when suddenly the end of the first week came and it was time to pack for the camping trip.
The trip was three days and two nights long and there were all sorts of things to learn. James was not new to camping but this was different. Everyday the group would seek a new campsite and camp in a different place. One of the older kids told James about Snipe hunting while on a camping trip. James didn’t know what a Snipe was and so he asked his counselors, who seemed to think that a snipe hunt would be a fine idea. They explained that a Snipe is a flightless bird that only comes out at night and is so stupid it will flee towards a person holding a sack, thinking that the sack was the opening to its burrow. For some reason they told the cabin this information with large grins on there faces.
The first night out the group camped on a small island, with a large rock face looked out onto a lake. The island was covered with fur trees and pines and smelled of caramel. After pitching there tents and cooking dinner the group sat down and starting talking about the plans for tomorrow, showing the boys the map when James asked about going for a Snipe hunt. The counselors agreed, after a quick conversation. They told the group that for a snipe hunt you must not wear any bug repellent, or shirt, and that you need to go hunting only after midnight, without falling asleep. They offered the sack to James, teaching him the call of the Snipe coooowwwaaaacchhhhheehheeeee, and wished him luck in the snipe hunt.
Shortly after this most of the campers fell asleep from a hard day of paddling but not James, he fought the fatigue and when his watched beeped midnight he sprang up from his sleeping bag determined to catch a snipe! Stripping off his shirt he strode (well stumbled) into the woods, slapping bugs as he went. After a few moments he let out his first call coooowwwaaaacchhhhheehheeeee and there was no response, nothing happened, after another few moments he let out another call coooowwwa – aaacchhhhheehheeeee and still no response. This went on for an hour, then two, finally James was feeling discouraged give one last call coooowwwa-
Aaacchhhhheehheeeee before going home. Suddenly there was a flutter near him and he heard a call that sent shivers down his spine, coooowwwaaaacchhhhheehheeeee. Raising his sack he called again, and the call was returned when suddenly he felt a great impacted as something flew into his sack and started pecking at him. Frightened, James opened the sack and turned on his flash light, only to see a bird about the size of a hen, with no wings running away from him.
When James told his counselors about the snipe he had captured they became serious and took him aside. They told James that there is no such thing a snipe and that it was all a game…
James knew better….
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Ron Carlson Response
One of my biggest concerns about writing that I had was how close to reality you can bee without crossing the line into autobiography. I found that it was really helpful to see how the story evolved from a personal experience into a work of fiction. Reading this almost felt like I was getting permission to write from a more personal perspective. I had expected to write more sci-fi but I am tapping into something else.
I found myself taking note of the section on page 72 where he talks about the purpose of a scene. That you have to add a detail that distinguishes that setting, taking it from generic to special, not corny but real. In one of his examples Ron talks about a law office and he uses features like the small of mildew, a dying bonsai tree etc. I found that this passage helped me in understanding how a scene should be constructed as unique.
Another part of the book that I found helpful was a tiny passage on page 67. The passage reminds us as writers to always remind our readers what the story is about. We need to give them a sense of urgency, drama, conflict that can be expressed in many ways such as time running out, loss or emotional distress of the character. For the most part I found myself soaking up the author’s advice even though I found the way the story ended to be less then satisfactory, ending abruptly.
The three most important things I learned were:
1. Staying in the room is extremely important because if I leave then the temptation is to stop writing
2. The importance of setting a scene with something special but not over the top.
3. Not to edit while writing. That is a step to be done later.
I think that I can stay in the room if I enter with everything that I need to write with including a snack and a drink. If I can set the environment so that I am satisfied with my surroundings I won’t want to leave. I must try to form a habit for writing that allows me time to edit and refocus at given times. I enjoy a mindless game such as gems that allows me to a fresh look at things when I return to writing. I also like to look over what I just wrote so time is needed to do that as well.
I found myself taking note of the section on page 72 where he talks about the purpose of a scene. That you have to add a detail that distinguishes that setting, taking it from generic to special, not corny but real. In one of his examples Ron talks about a law office and he uses features like the small of mildew, a dying bonsai tree etc. I found that this passage helped me in understanding how a scene should be constructed as unique.
Another part of the book that I found helpful was a tiny passage on page 67. The passage reminds us as writers to always remind our readers what the story is about. We need to give them a sense of urgency, drama, conflict that can be expressed in many ways such as time running out, loss or emotional distress of the character. For the most part I found myself soaking up the author’s advice even though I found the way the story ended to be less then satisfactory, ending abruptly.
The three most important things I learned were:
1. Staying in the room is extremely important because if I leave then the temptation is to stop writing
2. The importance of setting a scene with something special but not over the top.
3. Not to edit while writing. That is a step to be done later.
I think that I can stay in the room if I enter with everything that I need to write with including a snack and a drink. If I can set the environment so that I am satisfied with my surroundings I won’t want to leave. I must try to form a habit for writing that allows me time to edit and refocus at given times. I enjoy a mindless game such as gems that allows me to a fresh look at things when I return to writing. I also like to look over what I just wrote so time is needed to do that as well.
4 senteces...
It’s hard not to think of horses when I think of my youth.
My mother was an aging woman, whose beauty was fading, like the color of her roots.
“I call it like I see it”, shouted my sister!
I waited in line at the movies with Lucy and Dean.
My mother was an aging woman, whose beauty was fading, like the color of her roots.
“I call it like I see it”, shouted my sister!
I waited in line at the movies with Lucy and Dean.
101 words
The kittens arrived so suddenly that we were awe struck by their effect on our lives. We got the call on Friday afternoon. We have kittens in need of a place to stay. It is curious that we have fostered so many and it never changes, the neglect that animals can face through human indifference. These two were in pretty good shape, having been found on the street most likely escaped from some ones house. We listen to them at night running to and fro. We fall asleep to the sound of there play. How quite it will be when they leave?
Week 2: Closer to Memory
The night started with dinner and Jason was eager to go out with his friends to see the hot summer flick in about and hour. Having just graduated high school and eager to see what was over the next horizon. His family was close, just three who were working hard to make it. Tonight it was just Jason and his mom. The house was large, with the kitchen, dinning room and living room flowing into each other.
The conversation that night had somehow turned to dancing and music. With time to spare before leaving and for no other reason then that he liked his mothers company, Jason asked his mom to dance. She considered it for a moment and finally agreed. Jason and his mom had a great time. She showed him the box step and the two step, but the time passed and Jason needed to get ready for the evening. When, to his surprise his mom, with a note of sadness, asked him for one last dance. After a moments hesitation he agreed, more because it seemed to mean a lot to his mother then anything else. She whispered in his ear that someday he would remember this dance and thanked him for taking the time…looking back, years later…she was right.
The conversation that night had somehow turned to dancing and music. With time to spare before leaving and for no other reason then that he liked his mothers company, Jason asked his mom to dance. She considered it for a moment and finally agreed. Jason and his mom had a great time. She showed him the box step and the two step, but the time passed and Jason needed to get ready for the evening. When, to his surprise his mom, with a note of sadness, asked him for one last dance. After a moments hesitation he agreed, more because it seemed to mean a lot to his mother then anything else. She whispered in his ear that someday he would remember this dance and thanked him for taking the time…looking back, years later…she was right.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Week One Writing Challenge
Week One Writing Challenge
In every library there is a book that kills. “What crap!” thought Fen as he glanced at the first sentence of the novel. Fen stood in the dusty, used library browsing for some summer. Fen put the book back and noticed that the entire book shelf creaked and groaned under the weight of old and yellowing paper backs, spilling a bit of dust upon him…AACHOO!
Wondering down the narrow hallway Fen looked at numerous books but could not get that line out of his head… “In every library there is a book that kills.” What could Paul West mean by that? Did he mean that in every library there are books containing ideas that people die for? Inexplicably, Fen found himself, more then an hour later, back at the same spot looking at the novel. Hesitating he pulled the book from the self remembering the fragile state of the bookshelf.
Fen found a table to sit and started to read. Several hours alter he finished the novel and noticed the time, “shit, I am late for dinner! My mom’s gonna kill me!” Fen ran to the shelf and slammed the book into place. The fragile shelf broke apart with a loud crack and dropped hundreds of books on him, along with the shelf. The ambulance was summoned and he was taken to the hospital where he was later pronounced DEAD! Curiously he still clutched the novel.
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