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.