I’ve been a bit cheeky with my [fiction]friday piece this week in two ways; I’ve continued right from where last weeks [fiction]friday piece ended and my character’s jump is a metaphorical one. It’s short but sweet. I wonder if I can carry this on and write a complete first draft story over the next few weeks from the prompts given.
She turned to face a woman police officer. ‘I’m sorry, what?’ ‘I was wondering if you knew this gentlemen.’ Carla thought for a moment, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and jumped. ‘He’s my brother,’ she said. ‘What’s wrong with him?’ ‘Nothing. He’s narcoleptic.’ ‘He’s what?’ ‘It’s a medically recognised disomnia,’ said Carla, reeling off the script she learnt long ago. ‘Wake him up then.’ ‘I can’t. He’ll wake up in his own time. I’ll take him home then.’ The police woman tapped her foot for a moment a frown creasing then releasing her brow. ‘See that you do. I don’t want to see him here when I come back past.’ She sat beside her brother as the policewoman continued through the precinct. Carla brushed the hair from his face. He looked older but then so must she. How long had it been? Two years? Three? She slid a hand into his and held it. ‘Hello baby brother,’ she said, ‘what brings you to my part of the world?’
She turned to face a woman police officer. ‘I’m sorry, what?’ ‘I was wondering if you knew this gentlemen.’ Carla thought for a moment, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and jumped. ‘He’s my brother,’ she said. ‘What’s wrong with him?’ ‘Nothing. He’s narcoleptic.’ ‘He’s what?’ ‘It’s a medically recognised disomnia,’ said Carla, reeling off the script she learnt long ago. ‘Wake him up then.’ ‘I can’t. He’ll wake up in his own time. I’ll take him home then.’ The police woman tapped her foot for a moment a frown creasing then releasing her brow. ‘See that you do. I don’t want to see him here when I come back past.’ She sat beside her brother as the policewoman continued through the precinct. Carla brushed the hair from his face. He looked older but then so must she. How long had it been? Two years? Three? She slid a hand into his and held it. ‘Hello baby brother,’ she said, ‘what brings you to my part of the world?’
I dunno anything about what came before, but I really like this. And your idea of writing a story based on the prompts is an interesting one.
Good luck!
Its nice to see that someone loves that piano accordion player, also that he isn't dead. That was a satisfying continuation of what came before.
I liked the comment about the script she'd learnt long ago, I know exatly the tone you mean there. That was a very good touch.
Mine own: http://eclecticchair.wordpress.com/2009/06/19/fiction-friday-reyes-angel/
I liked my piano accordian player, too, but never got to write the story for it. I'm pleased that you got two stories out of yours! I liked this one and the way you characterized the sister and her reaction to her brother and the police officer.
so delighted the piano accordion player didn't die – and I love it when people continue a story – we get to see the same characters show up every week.it feels comfy – like putting on a pair of old slippers…
this was nicely written, simple, free flowing, the conversation natural.
my FF can be found here
http://annieevett.blogspot.com/2009/06/aquaphobia.html