reverie Posted June 16, 2006 Report Posted June 16, 2006 (edited) *** Just something I had to write as part of my final exam in my non-fiction class. But with a twist on it. I had to write a fictional scene in the style and persona of one of my fellow workshop writers. I know it doesn't look like much, but it's one of the hardest things I've ever written. *** “Amsterdam! You must go there!” the quirky little man randomly screamed into my ear. I made the mistake of going by Weaver Street, the local organic co-op on Sunday Morning. I hadn’t slept all night and I’m still wearing the same cloths: A simple blue and white polo and slacks combination. Insomnia’s a . Lacking sleep I guess I was in mood for something healthy. Unfortunately while cutting across the Market’s lawn on the way to Panzanella a wild looking man in a black crew shirt and black jeans accosted me. “Hey kid! It’s an Amusement Park for Adults, you’ll love it.” “Okay, sure, thanks,” I try to walk away, but he grabs my arm widely gesticulating with his free hand. “Kid, it’s the devil’s city! He owns it and he wants you to be there!” “Yeah, great, I’ll on the next plane, now let go of my arm.” He leans in closer freezing me with his blood shot eyes. “But, I got to warn you, Kid, if you ever hear a little bicycle bell ringing in the back of your ear,” he pauses, “You’d better be ready to jump! Because that little trolley-train doesn’t brake for nobody.” He starts to laugh, as I manage to pull free. I don’t ask any questions, I just walk away. Suddenly, I’m no longer hungry. Edited June 16, 2006 by reverie
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