STORY STARTER
Submitted by Quill To Page
'Words are wasted on those who do not listen.'
Write a story based on or including this phrase.
the leisure to the café on 12th
I was sitting in my kitchen just minding my own, looking out the window on this cold autumn day. The leaves were all turning and the trees were falling asleep. I imagined them with big yawning faces before snuggling down for winter hybernation. It was then when I heard the clatter of noise and the slam of the front door. Soon after appeared my dear friend panting in the entryway.
“Bruce!! Boy, am I glad to see you.”
I looked inquisitively at her. She was shaken and seemed to be quite panicked. So naturally, I reached for an apple and took a bite. Not satisfactory, I set it back down.
“Henley, I am most happy to see you as well. What brings you around?”
She started talking fast and going on about big men and people hungry for power and an investigation down at the docks. Henley was very plain for words and I had a hard time focusing on her blabbering. Really, her story could use a few tweaks. No imagination. Rope ties, gun point, dead henchmen, I mean really. It was quite cliche. I yawned much like how I’d imagined the trees in my yard.
“Henley,” I interrupted her prarade of word salads. “Would you like to take a leisure with me down to the café on 12th? I am most famished.”
My dearest Henley looked quite befuddled. She looked back the way she came anxious.
“I tell you they are coming and you want to take a walk to a café? Are you mad?”
I walk to the coat closet as she looks on after me. “Of course not. Today is a pleasant day, for what reason should I be mad?”
Henley stared at me seemingly dumbfounded, at what I couldn’t be sure. “Bruce were you even listening to me? They’re not going to be kind, they’re after me. They’re not gonna stop till they find me. They’ll—“
“Henley,” I interjected. “Why I am very quite starved, can I wait to hear your fantastic fantasies with the comfort of tomato soup in my stomach? If you’re so worried about them being able to find you just call on them. Write and tell them you’ll be at the café on 12th.”
She watches me as I shrug on my black trench coat. “You’re hungry??” Now I was starting to get frustrated. I mean really. Was she even listening?
“Of course! That is what I’d just said, no? Keep up my dear Henley or I believe I will have good reason to fear for your wit. Now come. It’s only a short leisure.”
Henley huffed at that and prattled on. “Bruce you don’t understand, they said they’d make me pay, Bruce I’m scared—“
“Nonsense!” The thought was so very bazaar. A lady paying for a man’s lunch, what pitiful manners. I mean really, who raised these gentleman, if such a title is even worthy to bestow on them. “You will not have to pay the bill, that you can be sure.”
Henley was starting to get agitated. “No Bruce. They said I’d have to _pay.” _ __ __ __ I looked at her for a moment comprehending what she was saying. I couldn’t fathom how I could have missed the meaning in the first place. Of course. “Well fine then. If you and you’re gentlemen friend insist on paying, who am I to stop you. Don’t expect my eating habits will change, you are the one you frankly insisted on paying, you know.” I walked out the door and headed for 12th street.
“Bruce please,” Henley had taken on the countanace of begging, which really is quite below her in my opinion. “We need to go somewhere safe. They’ll kill me.”
I shook my head. “Please Henley, cut the dramatics. I believe I am developing a sore headache from the lack of substance.”
Just then I heard a russling to my right and then I heard Henley scream before it was muffled by a gigantic hand.
I turn to find Henley struggling in the grasp of this ginormous man.
“Hello,” I greet. “Um sir, might I have my friend back? We were just on our way to the café on 12th. Would you join us?”
“Quiet.” The big man said. “Tell me what you know.”
I puzzled at him. “I know quite a lot, sir. Really, it would take several months to complete a full synopsis of my knowledge. I am quite learned, you know.”
The man grumbled. “Stop the funny business. Tell me or miss nosy here gets it.” He pulls out a small gun and places it against Henley’s temple. Her eyes go wide with what I presume to be terror.
I chuckle slightly. “Sir, as I have been assured many times by sereveral acquaintances, I am not skilled in humor.”
It was at this point that I noticed Henley started to mouth something, her mouth visible now that the man’s free hand now holds the gun.
I tired to make it out. After a minute I was sure I had figured it out.
“Bad man?? Is that what you are trying to say my friend?”
Her eyes fearfully look upon the man holding her. Slowly I look to the man’s face and make out malice painted in every crease. I start to fear for my friend, As well as the bowl of soul I’m starting to believe I won’t receive.
Realizing we are now in quite the predicament I shake my head at Henley.
“My dearest Henley, why didn’t you say anything?”