Fables and Myths: Sunday Workshop

image taken from "The Slade Tales"

A group of Sunday morning work-shoppers looked at the fable of the Hare and the Tortoise then wrote their own stories of good guys and bad guys, of characters with a critical flaw that meant they had a lesson to learn…  

An Important Day - Yosra Darwiche

There was Charlie, lying comfortably on his bed, filled with old ravage, soft tacos, and video game covers. All of a sudden, his brother Sam, with the scruffiest of unbrushed hair, entered the bedroom as the sun gradually set into the distance.

 

“Sam, get out of my room immediately!” screamed Charlie.

 

“But it is my room as well,” his brother protested. Without notice, a leathery loafer flew across the room, almost hitting Sam in the temple, as a warning.

 

“Fine, I’ll leave,” Sam cried. Charlie just continued reading his picture-less novel, not even realizing what he had just done.

 

“Dinner is ready, children! Come and sit!” Duncan informed the family. Charlie and Sam stared menacingly into each others’ eyes as their mother and father spoke about controversial and political matters.

 

“I’m going to kill you, Sam. Kill you!” Charlie muttered in a quiet tone. The primary reason behind all this tension began a few years ago when Charlie was still in primary school. His brother was given an academic award that he envied profoundly.

 

“I’ve devoted all my time to studying. I have avoided social occasions, rejected play dates with friends… All for nothing. And they award the Academic to someone who doesn’t even care about education,” he lamented secretly.

 

Ever since Charlie and Sam maintained a dysfunctional relationship: “I HATE YOU! YOU’RE AN IDIOT! AN ASS! WHO WOULD EVER HAVE YOU AS A FRIEND?” Charlie interrupted during dinnertime. All of a sudden, a tear ran down Sam’s plump cheek, soon followed by a frown.

 

“Charlie! Go to your room,” his mother ordered. “Yeah, Sam. MY room.”

 

To be continued…

 

An Important Day - Suransu Gupta

Marvin glared at the clock as if urging it go faster. His interview was at 9:30 but he had arrived at 9:20.  He now had to endure ten minutes of waiting which was torture for him. He hated the fact that all the applicants were to be interviewed on the same day.  He greatly wished that the interviewer had interviewed all the applicants on separate days.  He stared at the other applicants with great dislike.  This job was meant for him.  He was destined to become the boss of Huber’s phone company.  He relished the thought of the power that would come when becoming a boss.  He would have his own office and he would reign over all his employees.  He realized that while he was drifting off, nine minutes had gone past.  He tapped his fingers incessantly on the arms of the chair.  Unable to wait another forty-five seconds, he got up and started to walk from one side of the waiting area to another, passing the other anxious applicants.  He held a vice grip to his resume, crinkling the thin edges of the paper.

 

Not only did he want this job, but he needed it as well.  He had boasted to his older brother that the job was already in the bag

 

To be continued……

An Important Day - Naryma Grovener

A figure skidded along clinging to the shadows, the city of Strange was a mirror image of New York above except more sinister.

 

The figure avoided the crowds and markets using the roofs as cover. Every light was a sign of death. Every step was a sound unheard.

 

The figure moved effortlessly with precise movement, not a foot out of place or a sound broke the everyday sounds of the market of Strange.

 

The figure moved with the grace of a cat, but had an air of danger like a shark, the shadows protected against curious glances from residents.

 

The shadows were isolated, yet the figure welcomed its cold embrace as if it was an old lost friend.

 

A scream echoed through the city. The figure stopped and listened carefully. His mask clouded with tension, he heard begging, his mind was distracted from his original task. He needed to find the owner of that distressed scream.

 

He suddenly started running taking caution but his mind was pre-set and determined to what, maybe to kill or harm the distressed person.

 

His face was un-readable. The final destination was reached. He clung to the wall and looked around the corner to find a woman of ordinary features.

 

Fear was evident as men of peculiar features surrounded her, the woman exclaimed, “I’ll give you anything you want. Please don’t hurt me!”

 

The figure cloaked by shadows went to turn away, but his feet refused to move no matter his reason. His body would not obey his half-hearted command. He looked at them curiously. They had never disobeyed before. Why chose to rebel now?

 

A second scream was heard, and his rebelling feet made him step out of the shadows to the surprise of the mortal woman’s attackers.

 

One of the thugs with green skin who was wearing a blue hood said, “Keep going and there will be no trouble if you leave.” He pulled out a pocketknife. “There will be consequences.”

 

The figure looked at the woman whose face was a picture of fear and distress, another thug shouted, “Hey, stupid! There is nothing to see over here.” The thug, in the figure’s opinion looked as if someone had shoved his face half way into a door and shut it.

 

Seeing the woman in such distress made his right hand grip his double-ended scythe. The thug said, “Back away, pretty boy.” But, the figure looked as if he has no intention of doing that.

 

One of the thugs backed away, “Wow. That is a big sword. Guys, I don’t think he’s messing around here. Shut up, Wiley,” exclaimed one of the shortest thugs who seemed to have a considerable temper.

 

The first thug jumped at him with obvious desire to slice the figure into little scampi pieces. The figure did not flinch at the off balance jump that was aimed towards him. He simply spun his blade and smashed the side of the thug’s face mid-jump.

 

The thug hit the ground howling in pain as he cradled one side of his face. The other thug ran at him, the figure shot forward and punched the thug across the jaw, another two came after him. He grabbed one and threw him into a wall.

 

A satisfying crack was heard. The last thug had the unfortunate fate of being shoved into a broken down toilet nearby the figure.

 

Within a few minutes, every thug ended up on the ground, crashed through a window or in peculiar places like a toilet. The figure cast his eyes on the rest of the thugs and walked backwards,

 

The thugs retreated, yelling and screaming in terror and before long, the woman and figure were alone. The woman’s eyes went wide with fear after she had seen what he had done to the thugs.

 

She took in a breath as if to let out a blood-curling scream. He pulled something out. She yelled before finally realizing what it was. In front of her was a shiny, red, crisp-looking apple.

 

“It’s an apple,” she exclaimed. Surprise was shown on her features. “You want me to take the apple?” she asked. Confusion was heard in her voice. She looked into his gas-mask eyes.

 

He nodded. His breathing sounded course and rough. She hesitantly reached out. She focused her hazel eyes on his mask, never leaving their place.

 

She delicately picked up the apple from his hands, delicately, as if it was made of glass. She looked calmer now- less likely to scream.

 

He turned around and looked like he was going to leave. “Wait,” she said. He stopped. “Don’t go. Are you just going to leave me here to die after you saved me?” He had his back turned to her.

 

“I want to go home,” she said. He turned around quizzically. “I don’t know how to get back. Please? Please will you help me?”

 

A raspy breath was heard and he slowly nodded. He motioned for her to follow. He walked through the street quickly. She followed carefully behind.

 

They stood at the entrance of a huge, old water tunnel. He stepped into the tunnel and kept going. She was appreciating the environment when she realized he had trekked on, so she ran after him into the tunnel.

 

She hurried to keep up. Twists and turns ahead made it difficult, but they finally reached the end. He stopped walking and she saw the hatch she went down originally was open.

 

She saw a starry sky. It was the cemetery. She stepped into the night air. Joy overtook as she stepped outside and twirled happily. She looked back at him. He was standing in the tunnel. He wanted to follow her.

 

“Aren’t you coming?” she asked surprised. He looked behind him, then at her, and shook his head. He turned around and walked down the dank tunnel.

 

She watched him sorrowfully as she watched the figure become enveloped by shadows. She looked at the bright red apple he had given her.

 

She smelled the apple. It smelled of summer and spring. She cradled it to her chest and walked off in the opposite direction.

 

She walked the street back into her normal life. Somehow, it would never be quite the same again.