Friday, September 10, 2010
Do you accept make up homework?
So, I've been pretty bad at this. I've missed the last two Saturday Centuses (Centus'? Centus's? How do you make it plural?). For one reason or another I haven't been able to show up for Saturday morning's "class." Rather than claim illness, as I did in kindergarten to get out of tying my shoes in front of the entire class when I didn't know how to and was PERFECTLY content with the idea of velcro shoes for the rest of my life, I will just come clean and say, I just never got around to it. I was busy, and probably not busier than any of you are, but I just never got around to it. So, as this week is about to end, my procrastination has finally come to smack me in the face and tell me we are through.
Two assignments passed, and one more almost gone, I've come up with a crazy solution to make me feel as if I haven't missed anything. I'm going to do them all, and do them all in one, without ever breaking the rules.
What this means is, I will be participating in this weeks Saturday Centus, and simultaneously, be participating in the past two weeks as well.
This weeks prompt (week 18) was: It was a dark and scary night.
That will be included in my story, unaltered and in bold.
Last week's prompt (week 17) was: Take any SC story, yours or someone elses, and write another 100 words to tell us the rest of the story.
So I've chosen my first SC entry from week 12, Starting Over Again, which I will repost below in italics, and will continue the story and tie it in with "It was a dark and stormy night".
And lastly, The week before THAT (week 16): Write about your summer vacation, fact or fiction, exactly 100 words, written in first person, with the title What I did over Summer Vacation.
Which means, I will title it, What I did over Summer Vacation, and position the entire story to fit the title and be in first person.
Here we go. My make up work. I'll report early to class tomorrow.
What I did over Summer Vacation
There's no need to be nervous. Right?
With each passing mile the nerves become harder to ignore.
"Everything'll be fine." I say as I glance at Charles in the passengers seat, wrapped tightly in a blanket.
But of course, he doesn't respond. Huh, I guess nothing's really changed.
Driving six hours is a long time on the road. Six hours spent singing car-oake and taking in the picturesque scenery, but mostly reminiscing about the good times. But those days were long gone and my mind was in a different place now. Or was it?
My pulse quickened as I passed the road sign which read, "Medford 27 miles."
An insignificant swamp town of 400, to most Medford isn't worth opening your eyelids for. To me, it means a chance at a new life.
It'll all be over soon.
"Like swamps Charlie?" I poke his lifeless body. "Good! That's where you'll meet the last guy who cheated on me."
I turn back to the road.
15 more miles, speeding, my mind drifts.
It was a dark and stormy night.
His hot cocoa -cold, the fire -burnt out. I was tired of waiting.
In the rain, I looked for him.
He was with her, cuddling in a cafe, "working late."
When he came home I kissed him passionately with my shovel. Three times.
Blinding blue and red lights snap me back to the present.
The siren fades, drowned out by my heartbeat.
I pull over.
I didn't want to spend my summer this way.
My hand slithers down and grips the shotgun by my feet.