we are supermodern we are retroactive we are automatons
we are individuals we are whispers we are all you hear.

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

Hope Fiction; Writing Dreams

Let me tell you a story, a short little pseudo-fictional narrative. It is comprised of events that have yet to happen in the lives of myself and those close to me, namely the Best Friend.

Woolen Bones, a young man, has just moved to the Frenchland, to the City of the Mountain. He is unsure of his skills in the local dialect and does not have much in the way qualifications for employers to consider him. He moves in with his best friend, Ddd, who lives in the City and is fluent in the dialect. When he is not working at his shitty no-dialect-necessary job stocking shelves at night, Woolen Bones auditions for student films. He finally gets a part and has to quit his job to make time for the shooting schedule of one weekend.
The film's shooting date swiftly flies by and Woolen is now short a source of income, although he has appeared as a supporting actor in a fairly well-made student film. Ddd says he'll get the rent and not to worry about it this month, that Woolen can pay him back whenever he can. After securing another shitty job, this one utilizing his modest knowledge of the local dialect, he auditions for another film. This one is a studio film, albeit a small local studio. He gets another part, again as a supporting actor and, again, has to quit his job for the shooting schedule of one week.
Woolen pays Ddd back for the rent with three-quarters of what he makes off this supporting role and they go out to celebrate and Woolen ends the night spending the rest of the pay from the film on bottles and shots. Two days go by and Woolen realizes he won't be lucky enough to get another minimum-wage job where the local dialect isn't necessary and sets his sights higher. He goes to the different magazines operating in the City of the Mountain, magazines which print in the Majority Tongue. And he waits.
Two weeks pass by and finally the phone rings for Woolen Bones. One of the magazines is looking for a mailroom clerk and asks when he is available. Woolen says immediately and starts work two days later. A month or two later, his supervisor discovers a piece of writing Woolen accidentally left on a table in the mailroom and shows it to his supervisor. Woolen is called in for a private meeting and leaves the meeting with the task of writing an article for the next month's issue.

Dreams are nice.

1 comment:

  1. ahhh . i could totally visualize this piece... your writing is going somewhere. i like some of your choice words..... some are keen and now ..but some are just the right piece for that part of the puzzle.
    i have a book idea that... i will probably never get around to writing... you would do well to write it .. or atleast edit it when i am through . nice work neph