JamesMature

   By the dim lamplight I scribbled feverishly, zealous in my pursuit of this story. The words rolled out of my strange pen like waves lapping on the beach, contanst and steady. I hoped I would be able to read my handwriting in the morning-I was writing as rapidly as I could, high on the multiple cups of coffee that I kept slurping down. Each sentence was perfect in it's form, each a lovely piece of magnificence. Who knew I could write fantasy so well! All that time I spent researching crime, digging for new information which could lead me to new inspiration. I took another gulp of the rich, sugary coffee, watching as the words filled up the page.

   "James," a knock came on my door, and Jerry simulatenously opened it, peering his head inside. "Lewis and I are heading to the Pub. You've been locked in this room ever since you got home for work, come along!"

   "Sorry-can't!" I briskly replied. Nothing was pulling me away from this, I was so absorbed, so caught up in the story.

  Jerry declared, "All you do is write or have your nose stuck in a book. Do you ever live?! You are so incredibly boring! "

  "And what's new about that?" I smiled mildly, my eyes still locked to the words, a brief pause coming to my pen. "Go on ahead....maybe tomorrow."

  He grumbled something and walked off, shutting the door behind him. Sighing contently, I returned the strange pen to it's place on the paper, a flood of words spilling out in it's wake.

  ***

   I blinked open my eyes, face to face with a black and white blur, my round glasses smashed and contorted against my face. Confused, I sat up, taking off my glasses and cleaning them on my shirt. I groaned, my neck ached from the awkward position in which I drifted to sleep. I blinked a few more times, my brain foggy. Shaking my head out, I looked at my wristwatch. Oh...only ten-thirty....

   "Ten thirty!"  I cried, leaping out of my chair, knocking it over in the meanwhile. I swore profusely, tossing some shoes over my feet I raced out of my room, past the empty kitchen and into my car.  As I reached to start the ignition, I realized I lacked my keys. I swore under my breath again, charging from my car back to my room where my keys and wallet sat, snatching up the mussed pile of papers freshly written on from last night as well.

    As I sped down the roads to the library, my eyes scanned the papers I had jotted down on last night. Wow. Impressive. I grinned, pride fluttering in my chest.

   Someone blared their horn at me, and I looked up, almost forgetting I was driving. "Sorry, sorry!" I yelled, shrinking in my seat as the other car passed me, it's driver giving me an ugly look. From the passanger seat, my phone screamed. I snatched it up, tossing the papers aside for later, and noticed the number as May's. My God, she would be a monster today.

   I quickly picked it up, "James, where the hell are y-!" she began.

  "Sorry, I'm coming! Sorry!" I answered briskly, before hanging up the phone and tossing back in it's place. Only if I didn't have two jobs, and could focus on my writing....perhaps Jerry was right, my life was so boring.....

   Snatching up the last page, I glanced over my final line, barely legible.

    It was finally his chance to be something better.

   I smiled contentedly...that was quite good.

  

 

The End

52 comments about this exercise Feed