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Intermission

Farted by Beret, October 02, 2008, 08:39:01 PM

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Beret

Okay, so we had to write a two page short story for film class today.
 
Here's mine. (Okay, the title doesn't fit, I get that.)
 
Intermission
 
[/SIZE]The phone rang.
 
Septimus picked it up.
“What?” he asked as he glared at the digital clock.
It was 3 am.
“I’m coming up.” said Ron, and hung up.
“Dammit!” exclaimed Septimus. He pulled on a sweater and some slippers. He went to the door to let Ron in. “Why’d you wake me up Ron?” asked Septimus.
“I need an outlet.” Ron said. He looked shaken.
“Okay, what is it?” Septimus asked with a sigh.
“Well, remember Launa? Remember her?” asked Ron.
Launa was Ron’s wife. She had died in childbirth.
“Ron, come on. That was eighteen years ago.”
“No, wait. Remember how Evander… he…”
“Died.” Septimus helped. Evander was the baby. He had died with Launa.
“Yeah,” Ron gulped. “Well anyways, I was walking out over at the Swayze Bridge. I was having a smoke. Trying to clear my head. So I knoticed this kid, well, teenager just staring at me.”
“So?” Septimus asked.
“Let me finish!” Ron said. “So I ask if I can help him. He says he has a story to tell.”
“And what was it?”
“Well, he told me the story of his life.” said Ron.
“Okay, but what did he say?” Asked Septimus.
Ron gave a large sigh, as if he had been holding his breath.

 
*******************
 
The next morning, Septimus woke up. Got dressed. Made coffee. The usual.
The phone rang.
He walked over and picked up the receiver.
“Yello.”
“Mr. Blancard? Yes. This is the hospital calling.
Septimus’s stomach clenched. He had always disliked hospitals.
“Yes?” he asked.
“We’re calling about your friend… Ron Sabe.
Septimus’s stomach dropped.
“W- what for?” he asked.
“This morning at around six am, Ron was hit by a truck. Three blocks away form your house. I’m sorry, he’s in critical condition.”
Septimus was already out the door.
The hospital room was stark white, with stained, cheap moulding.
Ron had so many tubes in him that Septimus thought he looked like some kind of science experiment. Almost all of Ron’s face was bandaged.
An eerie beeping filled then otherwise silent room. The doctors said he was in a coma or something. There was no telling when or if he would wake up.
Septimus sat down beside Ron in a daze. He stared at him, silently willing him to wake up. Two hours went by… three…
It was nine o’clock in the evening. Septimus was woken by the sounds of a heated argument going on outside the ward.
“I’m sorry sir, but only one visitor at a time!” the nurse said angrily.
“What are you going to do? Call security on me?” said the teenager as he pushed past her into the room.
The nurse stomped off down the hall.
The kid just stared at Ron’s lifeless form.
“Oh my god…” he said.
He knelt down on Ron’s other side, paying no attention to Septimus.
Septimus on the other hand, stared at this new stranger.
 
“Dad?” asked Evander.
[/SIZE]

 
Intermission
[/SIZE][/FONT]

Slurpee

Is there more to this story, or did you intend to leave the circumstances of Evander's survival ambiguous?

I like that you used dialogue to flesh out most of the information, and the repetition and prominence of the simple sentence "The phone rang" helped set a somewhat eerie tone.

Your dialogue set-up (he said, he asked, exclaimed Septimus) was a little clunky, and the actions were a little robotic, in my opinion, though, and, with the two page limit, it seems to me you had to rush through quite a bit of the backstory. We're told everything we need to know about Ron's history in about 20 words. It looks like your intention was to have the whole story lead in to the final line, but it didn't really come as much of a shock- the speed in which we're presented the information about Ron's dead family and then the teenager give the story a measure of predictability that makes it less fun to read.
Septimus is a weird name.

Beret

Rofl, thanks Slurpee. Yeah, that's it.

Beret

nts: less predictability= less boredom.

SnakeClock

Quote from: BeretClock;1417245nts: less predictability= less boredom.

A cardinal rule of writing, I say.

It was an alright story, but it did read like it was rushing. It was rushing so much, I could see the end before I got there. ;)

I like the names, though. Weird names are cool. Characters in my stories have names like Meyra, Dashiell, Phineas, Roonen, things like that.