Post by dalski on Aug 17, 2011 16:33:52 GMT -5
Here's a story I worked up recently, would really like some feedback on it. ;D
The Party is Canceled. (792 words)
All was quiet in the Saffron house for the time being. The large house was near the center of town, on a very busy street corner filled with shops, buildings, and other attractions. It stood oddly in it's place, as if it knew it didn't belong. The house was very old, but was kept up very well. For being so old it looked very modern, with long straight lines and huge windows on every side. The house was close to both the market and the business district, but was the only residential house for at least a mile on either side. Henry Saffron shuffled awkwardly through the front door with his bags of groceries and closed it shut with his foot.
“George! It's me, Henry, I'm home!” He called out, straining his voice. Henry shifted his eyes around the empty house and made his way into the kitchen, keeping an ear out for any response from his Uncle George. Lifting the grocery bags onto the granite counter top, he called out again, “George! Are you home?” but there was no response. “Where could that old fool be? I know, he's probably out on the porch.”
Henry stepped down the single step from the kitchen into the den and walked quietly over to the back door that led to the back yard. George was known around town for his beautiful courtyard. The whole house was aesthetically pleasing and quite classy, but the courtyard was “art at it's finest”, as he often heard from people around town. Henry moved the elegant white curtain aside and peeked out of the window, looking from side to side. It always amazed him that there could be something so graceful and appeasing in such an industrious and otherwise polluted township. George was nowhere to be found.
“Damn it, I told him I was going to throw a party for him today, where the hell could he be?” Henry said, starting to get flustered. “He always does things like this. Every time I try to do something nice for him, he has to go and make things difficult.” Henry headed back into the kitchen and leaned over against the long countertop.
Henry rubbed his temples with his hands and let out a long, drawn out sigh. Two pieces of paper caught his eye from the other side of the counter. He raised one eyebrow and picked up the first piece of paper and read the first bolded word aloud. “Evicted. The word echoed in his mind as if it were an empty cave. He kept reading to himself, Dear George Saffron, we regret to inform you... Oh this is complete bullshit! George! What the f**k is this shit?! Where are you?” Henry screamed with anger and disbelief. “We always pay the bills, how could this happen?” He could feel the tears forming in his eyes and falling down his red cheeks. “I bet it was that no good piece of shit mayor! He has been trying to get ownership--” Henry stopped and picked up the other piece of paper. This wasn't a formal letter, it was a piece of notebook paper with pen scribbled on it. It looked like George's handwriting.
“Henry, as you can see, I am being evicted and this house is going to become just another rotten business in this filthy town. I've already talked to the mayor, there's nothing we can do now. They are going to tear down the house and my courtyard. I'm 65 years old, I don't have time to start a new life. I only have another year or so to live. I don't want to spend the last of them away from my house, dying in a hospital bed with random people invading my personal space and making me urinate into a cup. I hope you understand. You are a terrific Nephew and I appreciate all that you have done for me in these past couple of months. I am leaving everything I own, other than this house of course, to you. It's not much, but it should give you enough to get a new life started away from this god forsaken town. I love you Henry. If you haven't gathered it by now, I killed myself, I'm hanging in the closet upstairs. Please call the police for me will you?”
Henry put the note down quietly, he was no longer crying. “George...Why would you do this?” Henry asked himself, although he already knew why he did it. Henry knew his old Uncle was dead upstairs, he could feel it now.
“First, I'll call the police. Then, I'll call the guests and tell them the party is canceled.”
The Party is Canceled. (792 words)
All was quiet in the Saffron house for the time being. The large house was near the center of town, on a very busy street corner filled with shops, buildings, and other attractions. It stood oddly in it's place, as if it knew it didn't belong. The house was very old, but was kept up very well. For being so old it looked very modern, with long straight lines and huge windows on every side. The house was close to both the market and the business district, but was the only residential house for at least a mile on either side. Henry Saffron shuffled awkwardly through the front door with his bags of groceries and closed it shut with his foot.
“George! It's me, Henry, I'm home!” He called out, straining his voice. Henry shifted his eyes around the empty house and made his way into the kitchen, keeping an ear out for any response from his Uncle George. Lifting the grocery bags onto the granite counter top, he called out again, “George! Are you home?” but there was no response. “Where could that old fool be? I know, he's probably out on the porch.”
Henry stepped down the single step from the kitchen into the den and walked quietly over to the back door that led to the back yard. George was known around town for his beautiful courtyard. The whole house was aesthetically pleasing and quite classy, but the courtyard was “art at it's finest”, as he often heard from people around town. Henry moved the elegant white curtain aside and peeked out of the window, looking from side to side. It always amazed him that there could be something so graceful and appeasing in such an industrious and otherwise polluted township. George was nowhere to be found.
“Damn it, I told him I was going to throw a party for him today, where the hell could he be?” Henry said, starting to get flustered. “He always does things like this. Every time I try to do something nice for him, he has to go and make things difficult.” Henry headed back into the kitchen and leaned over against the long countertop.
Henry rubbed his temples with his hands and let out a long, drawn out sigh. Two pieces of paper caught his eye from the other side of the counter. He raised one eyebrow and picked up the first piece of paper and read the first bolded word aloud. “Evicted. The word echoed in his mind as if it were an empty cave. He kept reading to himself, Dear George Saffron, we regret to inform you... Oh this is complete bullshit! George! What the f**k is this shit?! Where are you?” Henry screamed with anger and disbelief. “We always pay the bills, how could this happen?” He could feel the tears forming in his eyes and falling down his red cheeks. “I bet it was that no good piece of shit mayor! He has been trying to get ownership--” Henry stopped and picked up the other piece of paper. This wasn't a formal letter, it was a piece of notebook paper with pen scribbled on it. It looked like George's handwriting.
“Henry, as you can see, I am being evicted and this house is going to become just another rotten business in this filthy town. I've already talked to the mayor, there's nothing we can do now. They are going to tear down the house and my courtyard. I'm 65 years old, I don't have time to start a new life. I only have another year or so to live. I don't want to spend the last of them away from my house, dying in a hospital bed with random people invading my personal space and making me urinate into a cup. I hope you understand. You are a terrific Nephew and I appreciate all that you have done for me in these past couple of months. I am leaving everything I own, other than this house of course, to you. It's not much, but it should give you enough to get a new life started away from this god forsaken town. I love you Henry. If you haven't gathered it by now, I killed myself, I'm hanging in the closet upstairs. Please call the police for me will you?”
Henry put the note down quietly, he was no longer crying. “George...Why would you do this?” Henry asked himself, although he already knew why he did it. Henry knew his old Uncle was dead upstairs, he could feel it now.
“First, I'll call the police. Then, I'll call the guests and tell them the party is canceled.”
