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Story Challenge Sample Scene

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  • Story Challenge Sample Scene

    This is an experiment,a short scene like this might show up somewhere in my story. There will be alot more to it when it is complete,this is an attempt to get it started and pieced together and later show more characters. There will be more adjustmnets and stuffing when it all gets down on paper,haha. This is not really even a full scene, just something to get some comments on. Don't worry about negative comments, I know it is bad. ;)


    The man awoke from a hazy dream. Dim sunlight shines through dilapidated venetian blinds. A Match is struck igniting the tip of his Camel cigarette. He takes a drag then flips on the room's cable box, tuning to the local news. An ill-looking newsman is reading from a telepromter on the small television screen.
    '...another accident ocurred this afternoon when a forty-three year-old woman ran a red light in her black SUV, killing the owner of a silver Toyota. Metro Police are expected to file charges when the woman is released from from Sunrise Hospital. The name of the man who was in the crash will not be released at this time.'
    The tall man,about six-foot-two, adjusted the volume so that the set was almost on mute. He has long arms and wiry fingers. He ran his hand through his raven hair as he does so often as a nervous habit. In present day he has a deep brown tan,which is a contrast to the pale complexion his friends were acustomed to viewing during the thirty years of his life when he lived in Columbus. That is where he obtained his business degree. His name is Paul Thomas Garand and he recently moved to an apartment that was the first available that he could find.
    Paul jumped in and out of the cheap shower, pulled on a pair of black Dockers,leather dress shoes and a blue cotton shirt with a black tie. Despite being very hot outside, he placed a black suit jacket over his shoulders. It had a small metallic lapel pin of an American Flag. He always was patriotic so he felt that he was not just joining a trend,besides,it has been quite some time since there was a significant terror strike and it seemed like everything was going along as though the country was never at a heightened alert status. He knew people are quick to forget,too many distractions in today's society for most people to pay attention to what is important. He shrugged as he figured that,in reality,people just did not care, as long as they could buy their expensive cars and go out drinking and dancing they will just stay in their own little world. A gripe here and there mentioned in living rooms and bars alike,never did carry much weight to helping folks or to prodce any real change for the better of mankind. Now too,in the United States the political game is in full effect and the citizens seem very mixed up and not even attempting to unite for ideals greater than themselves. Thinking all this over and still a bit confused by the dream,he grabed his car keys and soon was speeding down the street in his used light blue 1993 Chrysler New Yorker. The car was good for the city,medium sized if you compared it to cars of three decades ago,small by the standards of the 1950's.
    The sun was setting in earnest when he pulled into the employee parking lot of the twenty-four hour cafe where he worked as assistant manager. It is slow tonight so he decided to have his dinner out in a circular booth instead of eating in back in his office with stacks of papers piled on the floor and on his desk. The chef made him a nice porterhouse steak,as was the weekly special,cooked rare and with a garden salad.
    A stranger walked in and sat down in the seat. He sank in deep,being that he was five-foot-eight,but his weight was about two-hundred and fifty pounds. He sat opposite of Paul and he wore a Hawaiian style shirt complete with red flower designs.
    "Hello,may I help you sir?"Paul said somewhat suprised. "The hostess should be around..."
    "No need for that,my name is Andrew Walder and I am here to see you Mr. Garand." He replied as he smiled through his thick brown beard.
    "Me? I don't know a whole lot of people around here,why?"
    "You had a science minor and I enjoyed your thesis about moralities in a future society and how it impacts on the usage of technology."
    Paul chuckles and says,"So,you must teach on campus in Ohio?"
    "No,I work in the administration building, a friend,a professor came upon your writings."
    Paul extends his hand and Mr. Walder shakes it,a firm grip.
    "Pleased to meet you Andrew."
    "Likewise,I am happy to have found you." stated Walder.
    "Thank You, are you on vacation?"inquired Paul.
    "In a manner of speaking,yes."
    "That is good,otherwise,you could've sent me a letter or e-mail. I don't fully believe what I wrote back at college, it was only a few ideas. I
    wanted to devote my time into something that will pay the rent; if you will excuse the cliche. I did what was required of me to graduate and nothing more. There were many others more intelligent than me there and that is just at one University. I don't understand why you would seek me out,I'm no one special,certainly not a great academic." Paul explained.
    "You underestimate your gifts. To settle your suspicions,I will tell you now that I am here to gather a group of fresh minds for a new subjective think tank."countered Andrew.
    "What purpose do you have for something like that? Money runs the country not thoughts." muttered Mr. Garand
    "The purpose is to help solve the world's problems,or at least a few of them."Mr. Walder said.
    Paul smiled and laughed,"I've heard wild claims before,there are no remedies. I see my life from a practical viewpoint now. I gave up awhile ago on thinking about outer space and beyond. I know there are some new scientific discoveries;however, it seems all speculation to me,instead of an inspiration to make some new theory's of my own."
    "Being pragmatic is only the beginning. You will come to see the truth of that one day soon."
    "Aside from your philosophical posture,what possible purpose could you have for me?"said a slightly irritated Paul.
    "You have other talents. I am not saying that you are the only person that I considered for the position,it's just that you seem to have a bit ofambition and I would like to have you with us."
    "Please,come to my office and finish this conversation in a place more private."
    Andrew nods his approval then he follows Paul through the kitchen and back into a bright office where he takes a seat in front of a small wooden desk. Paul also sits down into his chair with the soft cushions. He then withdraws a pen and a business card from the drawer.After writing something on the back, Paul tosses it to Walder.
    "Here is my home phone number if you need to reach me. At the moment I am in no way interested in your invitation, I hope you will understand."
    Andrew frowns and leans back in the ridged chair.

    "At a later convenience perhaps?"

    Paul lets out a long sigh' " I doubt it,but you never can tell how things work out. This day and age, communication is reasonably easy. It might be I'll get world-weary and send you an intant message. It is nice to talk to someone from back East and I appreciate you stopping in to see me."

    "Very well Paul,but please think on it, we might have a senatorial ear on this project. I feel certain we can actually make an improvement to our country. With you specialty skills in finance, we could work together to help the economy."

    "Well, take care Mr. Walder. Enjoy the remainder of your stay here.
    Next time I get back that way,I'll give you a call."

    "Goodbye and good luck with your advancement." offered Andrew.

    "Thank you, Goodbye." Paul said as he turned back to his work. He started to read some information in a thin notebook and Walder waved,turned and walked out a side door. After leaving the office, he rounded a corner and ran through the employee corridor that soon led him to a parking lot where his new red Thunderbird awaited him.


    "With a deep, not-unhappy sigh, Elric prepared to do battle with an army." (Red Pearls)
    - Michael Moorcock

  • #2
    Interesting. Keep it up.

    Do you really feel you need the passive voice in the 3rd sentence of the 1st paragraph? Since the passive doesn't identify the agent who performed the action, It produces a strange effect, rather as if the character used telekinesis to ignite the cigarette. I always learned it should be used (generally) when an action cannot be attributed.

    Just a thought. I know this is a draft.



    • #3
      I would've thought igniting a Camel ciggie would put a premature end to the tale. I smoked* one once and it damn' near finished me off...

      *which I don't.


      • #4
        I agree with LSN, though. The oscillations of both voice and tense in the opening sections are slightly disorienting, although I can see that you are using that approach for a specific effect: the literary equivalent of sudden 'crossing the line' changes of camera-angle: like the latter, it just feels a bit laborious and dysphoric. Nice imagery, though - very vivid.


        • #5
          Hahaha :) Thanks, I was embarrassed for several hours after I posted that,I thought it wasn't up to par.

          That is a good point L_Streams_Newburg. I will modify that, I see what you mean now. A thousand thanks for the input.

          Hey Perdix, I enjoyed that comment, I new some rugged types who smoked non-filter Camels and those non-filter Lucky Strikes! I don't know how "lucky" they were to smoke them though.

          Thank You for your knowledge and input as well.

          I tried to write a sword & sorcery story at one time, it seemed to flow a little easier being that it was not set in the real world so I could create a fictional atmosphere and not stay in the limitations of a modern era. This is fiction too, though, and I plan to have some science-fantasy creep into it at some point. I thought I would have a different discussion on the universe /Multiverse like Jerry Cornelius once had in(I think it was) The Final Programme. After that similarity, I plan to have a few suprises of my own. :)

          Take care,


          "With a deep, not-unhappy sigh, Elric prepared to do battle with an army." (Red Pearls)
          - Michael Moorcock


          • #6
            Anent Perdix's comment about the shifting POV, a word: POV is a powerful tool for either bringing the reader into the story or intentionally keeping him at arm's length. (The latter might be done for a number of reasons, starting with, say, a desire to achieve Brechtian alienation.) POV needs to be rigorously controlled to match one's intentions. If you start off with a restricted POV, that POV needs to be maintained (at least) for the length of the scene or chapter. If you shift it within a scene unintentionally, the scene can lose focus. You'll also destroy the illusion of "reality" that a restricted POV provides.

            This doesn't mean you can't shift POV. You CAN, but it shouldn't be done gratuituously. If a writer shifts POV constantly, he should have a reason for violating this guideline. It can be done effectively. Take a look at Robert Silverberg's story, "Sundance."

            If you plan to experiment with a shifting POV, don't be uncertain about it. Anytime you break a "rule" for a reason, flaunt it. Play it to the hilt until you get the result you want from the device.



            • #7
              I will keep that in mind LSN. Thanks, I will pay close attention to that so that the story will hold together as I want it.

              "With a deep, not-unhappy sigh, Elric prepared to do battle with an army." (Red Pearls)
              - Michael Moorcock


              • #8
                Your remark is to the point.

                Everything depends on what you want to achieve. The "rules" are really guidelines, and nothing more. It puts a lot of responsibility on the writer to decide which means he needs to employ, matching them to his intention.

                So do what you think best, and we'll read it, don't worry.



                • #9
                  Originally posted by lemec
                  I was embarrassed for several hours after I posted that,I thought it wasn't up to par.
                  Now I could understand that if you wrote fiction like me! I'm an engineer and it kinda shows whenever I try and write any fiction. Too much maths and fact I'm afraid. :)

                  It seems like you've come up with a good idea. I would be interested to find out where you're going to take the story. I liked the way that you built up the atmosphere cafe. It drew me in successfully.


                  • #10
                    Originally posted by spaced_moorcock

                    Now I could understand that if you wrote fiction like me! I'm an engineer and it kinda shows whenever I try and write any fiction. Too much maths and fact I'm afraid. :)
                    Watch it! :lol: (Take a look at my profile under "occupation." Now I'll doubtless hear this as a taunt from Perdix.)

                    Agreed lemec doesn't need to be ashamed of anything. He's also braver than most people, to post something he has written for comment. You'd be surprised how often people freeze up at the idea.



                    • #11
                      Originally posted by L_Stearns_Newburg
                      Originally posted by spaced_moorcock

                      Now I could understand that if you wrote fiction like me! I'm an engineer and it kinda shows whenever I try and write any fiction. Too much maths and fact I'm afraid. :)
                      Watch it! :lol: (Take a look at my profile under "occupation." Now I'll doubtless hear this as a taunt from Perdix.)
                      D'oh! Quick, pass the foot! I need to chew on something. :)

                      Originally posted by L_Stearns_Newburg
                      He's also braver than most people, to post something he has written for comment.
                      Yeah, I'd agree. I'm more like Brave Brave Sir Robin when it comes to things like this.


                      • #12
                        It's no big deal, really!

                        I'm sure those of us who, as a professional sideline, must write prose that is sometimes described as "factual and academic" have noticed the difference between the requirements of the technical paper and the needs of fictional finesse.

                        Doc, Carter, and Perdix could all comment on this point, I suspect. My own observation is that academic prose attempts to communicate ideas in a logical, orderly way. (Or at least that's supposed to be the goal; to echo Prince Hamlet, 'Tis more honored in the breach than in the observance.) Clarity and inevitability are features of such prose. It often belabors the obvious to no small degree. Subtle nuance and ambiguity are generally not employed in the desire to avoid murkiness. If your academic prose is subtle and ambiguous, it will doubtless lead to reminders that many readers have no appreciation for those qualities, and consequently read such prose the wrong way a lot of the time.

                        Such an approach in fiction can seem hamfisted. In fiction, ambiguity and indirection are useful tools of the trade. The ground rules are very different. Clarity of prose can be a positive stylistic feature, but belaboring the obvious can be an extreme negative. Letting the reader figure things out from evidence rather than telling him everything is a good principle -- yet that's something that many writers of academic prose will find difficult. It runs against the grain, if you will.

                        If you write poorly in an academic context, it will, however, probably carry over into the domain of writing fiction.


                        P. S. This posting is more "academic" than subtle or ambiguous. However, the subject under discussion produces a sort of penumbra of ambiguity that infects the exposition a bit, I suspect.


                        • #13
                          Lemec's Story Chapter One

                          The sun rose in the sky above the high mountain. Vibrant green deciduous trees cover the countryside. Men and women work with power saws and other tools used for woodcutting, They are constructing a palisade along with extra poles for the north bastion. It is an ongoing project to fully restore the old fort to it's original 1758 design.

                          Linda, an adorable young lady,pushed a wheelbarrow over the thick grass. She removed a box of heavy steel files from it and placed it on the ground beside Richard Gebaur who was doing some axe work on the ends of the logs to form a tapered tip. Linda Anbernen wore her black hair in a long pony tail beneath a forest green baseball cap which reflected her jade coloured eyes beautifully. She is dressed in blue jeans and white t-shirt, in fact everyone there is wearing jeans and a simple shirt. Linda stands at five-foot-seven compared to Rich's five-foot-nine. Richard is broad of shoulder and very strong. Linda also has an athletic figure;however, she is quite slender. They have been friends since they met each other at their anthropology class two years ago. Richard's father,Pete,was one of the men selected to oversee the reconstruction of the redoubt from The French And Indian War phase of The Seven Years War. Other men with shovels filled in a narrow trench by one of it's fences.

                          Tourists and some locals went inside some of the already existing buildings. Inside they explored the museum,which was there since the 1960's. They viewed mannequins dressed in British uniforms and some with American garb. The curator placed several artifacts in the tall glass showcases. He fastened a 'Brown Bess' to wall along with a powder horn that had Sterling silver plugs on it's ends. Next,he dusted the ornate silver platters and pitchers. He locked the cabinet that housed them after he thought they were satisfactory.

                          Linda walked through the exhibition and out the back door. Up the hill she went along the concrete path towards a squat structure of timber. Wood boards creaked as she had to walk backwards in order to descend the precipitous stairs. She clung to the polished birtch rail. It was near impossible and very dangerous to attempt to go down those stairs as one would do normaly. Once inside the dark hole,that was actually the black powder magazine,she leaned over a red and white Igloo cooler and took out two twelve ounce plastic bottles of iced tea. Then the cute woman carried them up the stairs and turned right to run the length of a different trail that also lead back to the place where Rich was now smoothing the points on numerous staves.

                          "Here ya go!", exclaimed Linda as she threw a bottle to Richard. Rich caught it easily.

                          "Thanks",Richard said expressing his graditude in the hot sun. He began to drink heartily.

                          "You're welcome sweetie", replied Linda. "What do you want me to do now?'

                          "Can you please help Larry nail those planks together over at the mortar battery." Rich asked.

                          "Sure thing Rich,I bet it will look really nice when it is complete." Linda replied.

                          "Yeah, can't wait to take some photos of the whole place for the new web site." stated Richard.

                          "Will it be done in time for the celebration in October?" inquired Linda.

                          "Oh yeah, the re-enactors already have their equipment ready for the show and the parade. I don't want to disappoint those fellows." he answered. Rich went on to add,"Besides, some of 'em are coming up here tomorrow to help out with the cleaning up of the debris."

                          "That's really wonderful of them," offered Linda "Don't forget, we have that history class to go to on Monday morning."

                          "Alright,I'll be there," replied Richard.

                          Larry stepped over and said," I sent Bill over to the hardware store to get some more two-by-fours, the one's I have left are all warped." Larry Lehrer is a fifty-eight year-old bulky man who had a few missing teeth,but that did not prevent him from having a perpetual smile. He has gray hair and gray curly pork chop sideburns. He is wearing a wide work belt that has a hammer, with a rubber handle, in one of the leather loops. "Some of the weather treated wood is all shot to heck too! The dern stuff isn't supposed to bow, but bow she does. I should have known it would never get better, I still have a support beam on my shed that is crooked as a pig's pecker! he emphasized by throwing his burly arms into the air and pointing in the general direction of his house with his stubby thumb.

                          Rich then went on to say,"Geesh, ok Larry, I hope they don't overcharge him too much for the lumber."

                          Linda smiles and states,"I'm ready to help you now Larry, I already dropped off the bags of nails for the boys at the West wall."

                          "That's good Linda, want to help me put up some paneling in my den when we're finished here?" Larry laughed and Linda giggled.

                          "Sure honey, anytime, I would be happy to help and so would Rich." Linda said to Larry.

                          "Huh?, what?," Richard asked, not really paying attention. He looked away from his work and back to Linda. " Oh , uh...,ya!" " I can join in, maybe have a nice cook-out on the same night, that is if you supply the hot dogs, Larry." Richard smiled a friendly smile,almost turning into a chuckle.

                          "That I will do, and a case of beer to boot," replied Larry, who looked very much like a Civil War general at that moment when he crossed his arms over his chest.

                          "Super-cool Larry, we'll get together sometime next week, I'll bring Brian along too, if that is alright with ya?"

                          "Fine,fine, just make sure to remind him to park on main street and not in my drive way if he decides to bring his car up here." said Larry,"I'm already lookin' forward to it, it will be fun."

                          "I'll tell him and it will be an excellent night for sure." replied Rich.

                          "Yes Sir,it sure will be nice, and I'll get Heather to bake you all a nice cake." stated Larry. "Pinapple upside-down or maybe a carrot cake. A simple chocolate never fails."

                          "Hmm,yummie,that sounds delicious," said Linda.

                          "Sure does," echoed Rich. He then swats a fly from his arm then returns to sanding and some planing of the long pine rods.

                          Larry and Linda pick up five planks each and carry them over to three hollow cavities in the earth. They then hammered some boards together which formed a square base. The work all around the area continued on until dusk that night.

                          At an hour before closing time, A fat man who is wearing a short sleeve cotton shirt with tiny images of deer and leaves blended into it's pattern, paid the entrance fee of seven dollars and entered the museum. He then walked over to the guest book and signed his name on the big paper. He wrote,' Andrew Walder/Visiting From Hayden,Ohio.' He placed the Bic pen back down on the podium and walked over to a large map on the Eastern wall. It was displayed beside a miniature model of the fort. In large print across the top it had written dates on it's surface which indicated,' Built 1758 Decommisioned 1766.' There was also an old painting of the fort itself beside it and next to that there was another map of the grounds, showing a large river that ran directly past the fortification's location in addition to the surrounding forest.

                          The heavy man nodded to himself and walked into an area where they had 18th Century furniture roped off in a side room. 'I remember this well' he thought to himself. He took a few more steps and pushed open two metal and glass doors that went outside. As soon as he walked outdoors, Andrew felt a tingling on his right forearm and scratched at it with his left hand. The wind blew his shirt up slightly just then,which revealed his 1903 Colt .32 Auto resting in his leather pancake holster on the left front of his black leather belt. He nonchalantly tugged up his black pants to let his shirt tails fall back over his waist and into place.

                          Andrew then walked on the cement walkway that lead up to a log cabin. Inside he saw two mannequins, one prostrated on a cot, the other adorned with brown hair and a long white apron. It held a physician's saw in it's right plasticine hand. Behind the cot, there was a small wooden table,with a white cloth over it. There were more archaic medical tools on the fabric with simulated blood on them, obviously the surgeon's room.

                          "One foot in the past, one foot in the present, how will the future folk stand here, with their feet planted, looking at an MRI chamber and radiation treatment devices and also shake their heads on how primitive it is?"Andrew stated to himself when there was nobody else in ear shot.

                          Adjacent to that area, there was a barracks set up complete with narrow pallets and musket racks. Some one then activated a circular saw close to Andrew's location and it made him wince because it was abnormally loud.

                          "Good God!" exclaimed Andrew.

                          (continued below at my next reply)

                          This is Chapter One: The characters in this story are entirely imaginary and do not represent any person living or dead.) :) This is a work of Fiction.

                          P.S. I went back and edited some mistakes above.

                          "With a deep, not-unhappy sigh, Elric prepared to do battle with an army." (Red Pearls)
                          - Michael Moorcock


                          • #14
                            Chapter One: Continued.

                            It soon stopped and the sharp vibrating sound died away. The smell of saw dust was strong in the early evening air. Andrew hiked over to another expanse of grass and found a huge wood and iron gate there.

                            "Impressive," Andrew stated to no one there. He bent close to it's surface and knocked on the thick wood for good luck. A small splinter lodged in his knuckle as a result, but he ignored it. He paced over to a few other cottages, spotting a store house and officer's quarters among them. It started to quiet down outside, so he completed his tour.

                            "No stable," he said to himself in a low voice. He walked to one of the canon ports and admired the view below of the trees and the distant river. "Good ground to have in any century," he commented as a matter-of-fact. He felt proud at that moment. 'What a glorious battle this must have been!'

                            The sun had begun to drop behind the mountainous horizon. Andew heard the sound of people talking and slamming car doors in the asphalt car park. He turned to see most of the vehicles in the lot pull out onto the main road. When he passed once more through the museum, he just reached hid T-bird in time to see a young man and a pretty girl with a green hat drive away in a blue open-top jeep. He stood there until he watched the small four-wheel drive car turn right and head towards a fancy white-washed gazeebo. Another right turn put them on a road to where there were several two-story brick houses that had huge front yards.

                            Andrew slowly got into his driver's seat and shut the door. He inserted the Ford's key into the ignition and turned it. The car started up. He then placed a second ring of keys into the glove compartment. He flicked the headlights on and put his car in drive. The fat man then released his break and was soon on his way. He made it to the gazeebo,but made a left deviation and headed to the Veterans of Forign Wars club. He made a mental note of a department store on Main Street and thought to go there in the morning before heading to Pittsburgh.

                            He whipped his candy-apple red Thunderbird in park after reaching a parking space. He got out, closed the door but did not lock it, and walked up a short flight of steps to the front door. He tugged on the door knob until he realized he had to push on it, so he did latter and entered into the modest establishment.

                            A long bar ran the length of the wall on his right-hand-side, chairs and square tables were on his left and a pool table was straight ahead. In the far right corner,there was a cubby and it had a card table setting there with six chairs. Above the table and attatched to the wall, Andrew beheld a large rectangle picture of the infamous Andersonville Prison.

                            There were only three other patrons at the bar aside from the bartender. Andrew smiled and said,"Hello"then plopped down on a stool. "I'll have a Miller draft please." he stated. He was thinking he wanted a thicker brew like a Guinness or Murphy's;however he also knew that this place did not serve it so he figured he would not act like a jerk and order one, he kept it easy. The bar keep obliged him and he drank deeply from a curving glass. He would be ready for a second soon. It tasted good since he did not have one for awhile.

                            " Thank You" Andrew said warmly. " How's business?"

                            " Good,good." replied the bartender. "My name is Phil. these are our regular's, George,Matthew and Karl."

                            Andrew raised his glass in salute. "Greetings, I'm Andy," said Mr. Walder. The others raised their glasses in return.

                            "I'll buy the next two rounds."said Andrew.

                            "Here,here," chimed in Matthew,"Nice to meet you friend."

                            "Likewise," said George,

                            "Yup," Karl blurted.

                            "Mighty kind stranger," stated Matthew.

                            The next round came and they all drank heartily.

                            "You'll get popular here quick sir," said Phil.

                            Andrew laughed,"I imagine so. Keep them comin' Phil."

                            The bartender slid another beer to him.

                            "So...does anyone know when the new editions to the fort will be finished?" inquired Walder.

                            Karl turned and said,"Yes, October 14th is the scheduled day right before the town festival."

                            " Ah, that is good, thank you. I will come back for it if I find myself in the area again."

                            "You should," said Karl. "Lot's of smoke, food and fun! The re-enactors really get into it and they pay close attention to the detail of their costumes. They use real black powder in their flintlocks,they just don't use the ball." He winked at that."That is some smoke screen when they all get done shooting at each other."

                            " I bet." replied Andrew.

                            "Don't forget about all the out of town women." said Matthew with a wink.

                            "What kind of food do you have around here?" asked Andrew.

                            Phil said," Well, you missed fish night on Friday. I can have my wife make you up a turkey,ham and cheese sandwich if you like."

                            "Please do, if it not too much trouble." Andrew replied.

                            "No bother at all friend." said the bartender. "Say, your gold necklace looks like the kind that come from Asia , were you in the service?"

                            "Yes, '68 to '70 in country as it were, got out in '73 after serving stateside for a bit." replied Walder.

                            "All of us here put in our time,of course, George there was in Korea."

                            George shited in his stool and said," My part was no big deal, alot of better men than me died there for their country. It is the 'Forgotten War' though. I don't mind for myself, but a little more recognition would be nice for the other men who served and their families. The do have a memorial now in down in D.C. and they finally got around to putting the World War Two memorial there, but Jesus Christ, what were they waiting for?, the vets to kick off to build the damn thing?"

                            "We all agree with you George", said Phil.

                            " I do as well." Andrew quickly added.

                            Phil's wife,Barb, came out of the back and gave the club sandwich to Andrew. "Thank you," he said. "It's nice to make your aquantance."

                            "Thank you too," Barb replied with a smile, She then walked away. She knew there will soon be more customers around this time so she hurried back into the kitchen.

                            Andrew took a small bite out of the sandwich. "Very good, my compliments" he stated. It was very good and Andrew should know, he ate many similar sandwiches in his lifetime and he had them from different places all across the country, from truck stops to five-star restaurants.

                            More customers walked in and sat down at tables so Walder remained mostly quiet and continued to eat his dinner. The others increased their conversations and it went on like that for a couple of hours.

                            'What do do, what to do' Andrew thought as he chewed his food.

                            "With a deep, not-unhappy sigh, Elric prepared to do battle with an army." (Red Pearls)
                            - Michael Moorcock


                            • #15
                              Later that night, a score of miles away from the fort. A 1978 AMC Matador's engine roared as the firecracker red car accelerated, it's driver pressing firmly on the gas pedal while he clings to the steering wheel. He is trying hard to hold to the curving freeway. He forms a wicked smile on his face,his big teeth lighting up from the dashboard bulbs. The car's headlights shine brightly, but are not on high beams. The man directed his vehicle into the left lane and passed several cars. When he glanced at the speedometer it indicated to him that he was traveling at ninety miles per hour.

                              Three minutes later he located what he was attempting to catch, a white Chevette four-door that has five people cramped within it. He gradually reduced his velocity in order to merge with the right lane. He drove in the right lane two cars behind his intended target. He removed his foot from the gas pedal, flipped on his turn signal and allowed to car coast onto a side turning lane which lead to a shopping mall. He slowed down some more and turned a sharp right into the parking lot. At the same moment he saw the five young men get out of their car and close the doors. They all looked somewhat bewildered.

                              This was Brian Eisen, the reckless operator who just almost side swiped several cars, luckily he did not cause any accidents. He would do anything for a laugh or sometime do things for the pure shock value. He pulled into the vacant space beside the '89 Chevrolet and stumbled out of the driver's side door. He was doubled over and laughing boisterously nearly shrieking. Brian wiped tears from his eyes with his left hand and steadied himself with his right hand by pressing his palm on his car's left fender. He is an average size man, but he was always full of energy. He continued his walk toward his friends and said," Hey! How's it going?"

                              His five friends,still a little shocked and certainly not amused by Brian's actions, all thought he had finally gone insane.

                              "Brian!" exclaimed Danny Plaener, a fit man with brown eyes and brown hair. "I wondered who the Fu** wanted to get down the road that fu**ing fast. I'm thinking, what IS wrong with this guy, then I recognized your car from my rear view mirror and it explained some of it at least."

                              " You are a mad man Bri," stated Robert.

                              "Hahahaha," Brian laughed. "I know, I'm sorry guys, it's just that I was going down the off ramp and saw your car drive up the on ramp so I gassed my car and followed, then when I did not get your attention and you got way ahead of me, something took over inside and my first reaction was to floor it!" explained Brian.

                              "Not cool man," said Dave

                              "We all love ya, but sometimes you are way out there,dude." stated Randy.

                              "Jesus!," exclaimed Brad. " Don't do that again, you could get us killed."

                              Danny said" Ok, I'll admit it was a little funny." He stated to laugh and the others joined in at last. "Please think before you act next time though. Did you want anything special by the way?"

                              "Nope." stated Brian flatly then he chuckled. "I was just heading home from work, saw you and acted on impulse."

                              "Well, lets take a walk in the mall before it closes, I want to check out the bookstore." said Danny.

                              They all follow Danny to the mall doors and enter.

                              The End of Chapter One of the short story.

                              I guess this is short for a chapter, but I guess it will have to be that way for the effect I want of jumping around to different events to define the characters a little, then a few pages in I can start getting to the real plot. This is all background so far. Thanks! :)

                              P.S. I edited and added a few words here and there to it.

                              "With a deep, not-unhappy sigh, Elric prepared to do battle with an army." (Red Pearls)
                              - Michael Moorcock