Protect the flock! From JP and Hachette!
A writing piece
I've recieved requests for one of these. I wrote this for English last year and submitted it to the literary magazine. They dumped it though, because I suppose it wasn't artsy enough :P No relation to any preexisting work whatsoever.
Rainy Day
Wednesday has a reputation of being one of the most miserable days of the week. When Robert McKonn woke that morning, he was miserable over the fact that it was just the case that day. It was a Wednesday.
The fact that it was raining did not help.
At 7:30 AM that miserable, rainy Wednesday, Robert stepped out the front door of his small townhouse. He walked the usual hundred-odd paces to the street corner where he waited, as he usually did, for the bus to arrive.
It was about five minutes later when Robert was joined by a tall man in a long dark coat. In his left hand he held the end of a large black umbrella.
This was not the first time that Robert had seen the man. He always appeared at the bus stop promptly at 7:35 AM. Sometimes they would talk as they waited. Such was the case today.
“Awful weather,” Robert commented.
The man gave a solemn nod and replied, “Very true. It is a Wednesday, so I believe it was to be expected.”
They waited in silence a moment before Robert pointed out, “The bus keeps coming later and later. I wish they could speed it up a bit.”
The man shifted the large black umbrella to his other hand, glanced at his wristwatch, and calmly stated, “The bus is on time.”
“Really? What’s the time?”
“7:36 AM.”
“Are you sure?”
“I synchronize it to the atomic clock in England each week.”
“Ah.”
“You’re on edge today. May I inquire as to why?”
“It’s Wednesday.”
“Somehow I don’t think that’s all.”
“You’d be right.”
“The reason then?”
“George.”
The man gave Robert an odd look and asked, “Who is George?”
Robert gave a frustrated sigh and explained, “George Brekker is my neighbor, to the right of my house. Every evening he turns on the lights, opens the windows, and plays opera.”
“Opera? I’ve never heard any opera.”
“Of course not. It’s only loud enough to annoy me and yet soft enough not to be heard the next house down.”
“Have you ever asked George to stop?”
“He doesn’t answer the door and he isn’t in the phone book.”
“Hmm… that’s peculiar.”
“Yes, opera every night, except for Wednesdays.”
“He does something different on Wednesdays?”
“Yes, he plays pipe organ music.”
“Peculiar indeed.”
“It makes me absolutely miserable.”
“Wednesday or the organ music?”
“Both.”
“Ah.”
“So now I’m stuck with this guy and I can’t do anything about it.”
The man with the umbrella suddenly became alert, “Wait, what did you say his name was again?”
“George Brekker.”
“Does he live at 156 Maple Drive?”
“Yeah. I’m at 155.”
“I see. Yes... I know who you’re talking about.”
“You do?”
“Yes. I met him once, very briefly, at a block party four years ago.”
“So what’s the case then?”
“The problem with George is that he’s old and going deaf. It really is quite sad, he was an opera singer— an amazing tenor apparently, and
he played the organ on the side.”
Robert frowned and looked down at the street. “Oh.”
The man in response frowned and said, “Sorry to disappoint you.”
Robert gave a said sigh and responded, “It’s a Wednesday.”
Rainy Day
Wednesday has a reputation of being one of the most miserable days of the week. When Robert McKonn woke that morning, he was miserable over the fact that it was just the case that day. It was a Wednesday.
The fact that it was raining did not help.
At 7:30 AM that miserable, rainy Wednesday, Robert stepped out the front door of his small townhouse. He walked the usual hundred-odd paces to the street corner where he waited, as he usually did, for the bus to arrive.
It was about five minutes later when Robert was joined by a tall man in a long dark coat. In his left hand he held the end of a large black umbrella.
This was not the first time that Robert had seen the man. He always appeared at the bus stop promptly at 7:35 AM. Sometimes they would talk as they waited. Such was the case today.
“Awful weather,” Robert commented.
The man gave a solemn nod and replied, “Very true. It is a Wednesday, so I believe it was to be expected.”
They waited in silence a moment before Robert pointed out, “The bus keeps coming later and later. I wish they could speed it up a bit.”
The man shifted the large black umbrella to his other hand, glanced at his wristwatch, and calmly stated, “The bus is on time.”
“Really? What’s the time?”
“7:36 AM.”
“Are you sure?”
“I synchronize it to the atomic clock in England each week.”
“Ah.”
“You’re on edge today. May I inquire as to why?”
“It’s Wednesday.”
“Somehow I don’t think that’s all.”
“You’d be right.”
“The reason then?”
“George.”
The man gave Robert an odd look and asked, “Who is George?”
Robert gave a frustrated sigh and explained, “George Brekker is my neighbor, to the right of my house. Every evening he turns on the lights, opens the windows, and plays opera.”
“Opera? I’ve never heard any opera.”
“Of course not. It’s only loud enough to annoy me and yet soft enough not to be heard the next house down.”
“Have you ever asked George to stop?”
“He doesn’t answer the door and he isn’t in the phone book.”
“Hmm… that’s peculiar.”
“Yes, opera every night, except for Wednesdays.”
“He does something different on Wednesdays?”
“Yes, he plays pipe organ music.”
“Peculiar indeed.”
“It makes me absolutely miserable.”
“Wednesday or the organ music?”
“Both.”
“Ah.”
“So now I’m stuck with this guy and I can’t do anything about it.”
The man with the umbrella suddenly became alert, “Wait, what did you say his name was again?”
“George Brekker.”
“Does he live at 156 Maple Drive?”
“Yeah. I’m at 155.”
“I see. Yes... I know who you’re talking about.”
“You do?”
“Yes. I met him once, very briefly, at a block party four years ago.”
“So what’s the case then?”
“The problem with George is that he’s old and going deaf. It really is quite sad, he was an opera singer— an amazing tenor apparently, and
he played the organ on the side.”
Robert frowned and looked down at the street. “Oh.”
The man in response frowned and said, “Sorry to disappoint you.”
Robert gave a said sigh and responded, “It’s a Wednesday.”
Views: 5
-
Comment by Xuut on January 20, 2010 at 6:39am
-
It's interesting.
Kind of odd though.
-
Comment by Brandybuck on January 20, 2010 at 3:47pm
-
Eerie. Nice dialogue.
-
Comment by Avenged on January 23, 2010 at 8:17pm
-
Eeire is right. :P Interesting....
-
Comment by Sora on January 26, 2010 at 11:53am
-
Made me all tingly inside ( ; Nice.
I can see why they wouldn't accept it in the magazine, though. They want love poems-not this kind of thing
Comment
© 2024 Created by Z.
Powered by
You need to be a member of Maximum Ride Unofficial Community to add comments!
Join Maximum Ride Unofficial Community