AntilMonkeyButt
New member
- Feb 5, 2011
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Something from a few years back. I'm not going to go into plot details or anything. I'm just curious how the writing sounds. Here it goes:
The air was fat with summer, and the morning was near gone. Jacob woke to his stomach: it demanded immediate attention. He squinted into the world. The clock beamed 11:12 at him. The boy glared back, but the clock was unfazed. A flicker of lights - 11:13 - Jacob groaned. He propped himself up on an elbow. There he rubbed his eyes, his face. A heap of clothes was spewed against the closet door. Jacob rolled out of bed, crawled in, and worked on a shirt. He started for the kitchen.
Outside, the yellow fields danced and swayed. Hot winds tickled the peeling trees. Jacob stopped before the dining room window; watched; waited. Inside, somebody snorted.
The boy blushed furiously and tore from the window. He staggered sideways into the kitchen, finding a girl seated Indian-style atop the counter. Her face was smooth and hair straightener-fried. She opend her mouth to administrate further abuse, and Jacob gasped:
"G'morning, Kim!"
The girl closed her mouth and smiled. Kim was seventeen - Jacob's senior by two years. She cradled a bowl of chicken ramen in her lap.
"I know what you were doing," she said.
"I wasn't doing anything," said Jacob quickly.
Kim gave him a look then returned to her noodles. She ate with her fingers. The boy climbed into a stool and watched.
"Can I have some?"
"No."
"But I'm hungry."
"Tough."
The air was fat with summer, and the morning was near gone. Jacob woke to his stomach: it demanded immediate attention. He squinted into the world. The clock beamed 11:12 at him. The boy glared back, but the clock was unfazed. A flicker of lights - 11:13 - Jacob groaned. He propped himself up on an elbow. There he rubbed his eyes, his face. A heap of clothes was spewed against the closet door. Jacob rolled out of bed, crawled in, and worked on a shirt. He started for the kitchen.
Outside, the yellow fields danced and swayed. Hot winds tickled the peeling trees. Jacob stopped before the dining room window; watched; waited. Inside, somebody snorted.
The boy blushed furiously and tore from the window. He staggered sideways into the kitchen, finding a girl seated Indian-style atop the counter. Her face was smooth and hair straightener-fried. She opend her mouth to administrate further abuse, and Jacob gasped:
"G'morning, Kim!"
The girl closed her mouth and smiled. Kim was seventeen - Jacob's senior by two years. She cradled a bowl of chicken ramen in her lap.
"I know what you were doing," she said.
"I wasn't doing anything," said Jacob quickly.
Kim gave him a look then returned to her noodles. She ate with her fingers. The boy climbed into a stool and watched.
"Can I have some?"
"No."
"But I'm hungry."
"Tough."