Yo. This is Alex Purple again. Your beloved ruler and father. If you don’t believe me, ask your mother. But anyway...
I’m in Boston University for a summer semester, studying Creative Writing academically and I thought it practical to publish my coursework in here since I will not have the time to write separately for both of my creative vents. Oooohhh flashy imagery, hahaha. You’re such a dick A. P. Yeah I know.
Our first in-class assignment was to write a fictional account describing our day, spanning from the time we woke up to when we sat on the chair we were then sitting.
Here’s mine:
First day of class
Breimus opened his eyes and the stuffy smell of his newly-assigned bedroom flooded his nostrils. His sweaty gym socks were not helping either. He flapped his mouth, winced and scratched the back of his head, trying to figure out what was that horny bump he was feeling. He poked it. It was painful but in a pleasurable way. At least that was what it seemed for he did it again. Then he stopped.
He stood up and walked heavily to the door. His arm stretched to the doorknob and then hesitated. Someone could be out there. Maybe the one who gave him the bump. No, he should be careful. Breimus backed a step, placed his hands on the door and slowly brought his good ear to the wooden door:
“Have you met?” asked a voice filtering through the door.
“What, with him? No no, he doesn’t talk much,” said another voice.
“Last night he did. He was shouting, drunk or something.”
They both laughed.
“Come on,” said voice one and they headed downstairs.
As soon as the footsteps were inaudible, Breimus cracked the door open, barely enough for his good eye to see. It was clear. He went out, walked back in, put on his trousers and walked back out again. He was late for class.
Breimus ran the distance. He knew if he took his time he would panic. Time meant thinking and thinking preceded panic. Panic made him smell. He couldn’t have that on his first day in school. So he ran.
Everybody else were in their places. He panicked. The teacher had yet to come. He sat by the entrance. The teacher sneaked up behind him. Breimus stood still looking timidly in front of him.
“Write!” said sternly the teacher and hit him with a pen-shovel on the back of his head. The bump was gone.
The End
Ivan Gold (my CW professor) commented: “an earthy character. not sure I follow the bump business.”