Home, briefly

well i drove 4 hours home today. i’ll offi­cial­ly be here for three weeks although i am going to spend some time in Chica­go. as soon as i got home i began ‘nest­ing’ as my moth­er calls it, going through all of my stuff and run­ning around in cir­cles like a dog does to assert and make itself famil­iar with its ter­ri­to­ry. any­way, i was going through my file cab­i­net doing my year­ly pack­rat purge and i came across this one page sto­ry i wrote in 7th grade eng­lish class. i repro­duce it here in all it orig­i­nal hor­ri­ble­ness.

“Hey Skatch! Over here! The annu­al Dit­terbloknic came upon me unex­pect­ed­ly.” The Pysk rode her fer­ret toward the sound of the voice. “Her­an must of got­ten drunk again,” she thought. “Her­an, you imbe­cile, if you didn’t have a hang­over you would know that the Dit­terbloknic was last dek­tide.” (month) “Just free me,” Her­an mut­tered. The Pysk sighed. “Her­an you are the strangest Halfling I have ever known.” “Will you please free me?” the Halfling begged. The fer­ret chit­tered, and side­stepped ner­vous­ly. There were snuf­fling and grunt­ing sounds amidst the heather. The sky became streaked with pur­ple and green. Every­thing on the hori­zon became grotesque­ly twist­ed out of shape. The fer­ret begins to chase his tail. “Easy Zine, calm down, help Her­an!” Skatch shrieked. “I will if you ever free me!” Her­an roared. Sud­den­ly, all was calm. The fer­ret rolled on its side pant­i­ng. “Gee Skatch, the way you leapt off that fer­ret and ran to me almost makes me think you were wor­ried about me.” “I should prob­a­bly have left you to Shenar and the Jug­gers.” “Not them, they take pride in tor­ture, they think its fun­ny.” “Why once I heard that they stake you out on an anthill and pour hon­ey on your.” The Pysk shud­dered. “You last two or three days, but you go insane long before you die.” “Well I should prob­a­bly free you,” Skatch sighed. “I was begin­ning to think you nev­er would.” Skatch began to sing. Her song was low, light, and lilt­ing, but the song that the ground echoed back was a deep rum­ble. Her­an sprang free from his trap. “Yaha! Final­ly I am free!” Skatch and the fer­ret watched com­pla­cent­ly whlie Her­an danced around the din­gle. When he final­ly set­tled down Skatch had a con­fer­ence. “Now,” she said, “we must dis­cuss what has just hap­pened. These recur­ring time swirels are very strange, we must go to Shamino.” “Not that wiz­ard who thinks he’s a Mage,” the Halfling groaned. “Yes, him,” the Pysk said indig­nant­ly. “Now get off the ground and fol­low me.” The Pysk and Halfling stroll out of the din­gle and west to the wizard’s vil­la. The fer­ret, still pant­i­ng, trots behind.

The End (or is it)

Rewrit­ing that made me real­ize just how much i bas­tardized from oth­er sto­ries. jee­bus. its fun­ny to see my attempts at allit­er­a­tion and the big words i use gra­tu­itous­ly. i got a 30/20 on it. yeah extra cred­it points for pla­gia­riz­ing.