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| Golden (trial) | |
| By 01crusea | ||||
| 14 January 2008 | ||||
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Okay, so I have to give a piece of prose fiction of no more than 500words for a university writing course. And this it it! It's the intro. to a story i've been working on for a while. Please give any advice you might think of: does it keep your attention? Could anything be described more? Or less? Any help appreciated. Bright-eyed and beautiful, lazing in the sunny good times – this is the life of a true aspiring bachelor: with a world’s worth of lovely ladies to choose from, and nothing but the temptation of a day’s relaxation to keep a man from doing so…it’s quite brilliantly doable. For sure, the world today is all about champions – both of which, more than anything, show just how handsome a life is out there. And with the ideal balance between light and air, not a dark cloud on the horizon, life in this crazed up downtown really doesn’t seem to get more champion than a day like this. So, for now, basking in the splendour of prospects, I ask myself, what to do today? Of course, the notion of lounging in the world’s magnificence may yet crush the thought of a “busy” day. But with opportunity enticing youth’s desire as only this world can, surrounding myself with a catalogue of choice seems rather a waste of time if not to decide upon any one enterprise. I should rejoice in my ability to pick-and-choose! Ramble from endeavour to endeavour! And naturally, just as a romantic should hope for, the very chance of a moment presents itself almost immediately. What a sweetheart! Set apart by just an instance of audaciousness between me and my chances, this chance must be taken. “Hello miss,” I exclaim, quite politely yet full of confidence; purposefully directing bold youth towards what delicacy I sense in the girl. “Fancy having the time of your life?” Of course, I should be more creative for the best possible outcome, but she seems an impressionable enough girl – somehow not knowing where her own will should take her, even while displaying herself as a self-made queen. No answer. “I say,” I make sure I’m close enough for her to know who should be listening, “how’s about just a word or two, at least to make me think that being turned down by you is something worth the hassle?” “Erm, okay then, how about ‘don’t bother’?” She’s brutal, to the point, wastes neither time nor energy being nice about things; and she hints at borderline arrogance…justifiable or not, I like her more already. “Well now, well now, do you really want me not to bother?” Again, no answer. “Because, you see, I find that being told such is actually a challenge to bother more than anything, don’t you think?” “Perhaps, if it were said in a challenging way and by a challenging person. But I personally favour the idea of an invitation–” “Excellent! You don’t even necessarily want me not to bother anymore, you just consider it an alternative – the difference is crucial.” To this, my new friend – (up until now, choosing not to even look at me; almost pretending I’m non-existent) – reacts with the faintest signs of amusement: raising her eyebrows (one slightly more than the other, I notice) and tweaking the corners of her mouth earwards.
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