Another hot day in Kansas City began by 9 a.m.,
and David sighed. Why the hell did we move here?
Why?
He found himself on the library steps, going up
into the brisk cool of books and tables.
David headed back to where he had tossed “The Adventures of Lord James
St. John” onto the floor. The book, of
course, had been shelved by some zealous librarian. Even so, he caught the sapphire blue
spine among lined up soldiers of insipid adventure fiction books.
Sitting in a dark corner on a battered leather
chair, David experienced a revived sense of anticipation.
“…the ground rumbled beneath him... as he raced ahead of the
cave-in, only to sense burning vitriolic acid mist surrounding him,
engulfing him. The air morphed into a
freezing mixture, combined with rotten egg scent of liquid sulfuric acid…
Oh,
come on! Sulfuric acid AND gaseous nitrous
oxide? Together? Ancient tribes would
have no knowledge…Idiot writer…Do your research, why dontcha?
“Misfortune loomed as the fumes waved over him. Coughing through a torn shirt
sleeve, when he had an epiphany. Holding his breath, he crouched and crept
along the craggy cave floor, breathing through the rock and dirt. Stay
low, stay low…out of the mist…
A light
gleamed ahead. … hallucination?... St. John tumbled and rolled
into the bright day light. He snatched
grass and twigs to pull him the rest of the way until he could escape the
fumes. Lord James revived just enough to see his worst enemy towering
over him. Not him, Lord James St. John groaned.
David smirked. Well
then…this was unpredictable.
A tall man glared down at him. “…had to take another gamble, didn’t
you?...A man who finds misfortune, unworthy to bear the colors of the
St. John banner…”
James lost consciousness blessedly, but when he
came to, the man was still there, still haranguing at his son. “…you impertinent worthless…."
Can’t he just shut up…just shut up…
First you deny the privilege of serving Queen and Country…A PACIFIST….”
Can’t he just shut up…just shut up…
First you deny the privilege of serving Queen and Country…A PACIFIST….”
David groaned inwardly. His dad. Just silly plot
twist. Come on, really?
Lord James William Arthur St. John, puffed out his medal covered chest. “Why, in my day…”
Lord James St. John gazed through a haze at the self-proclaimed
hero of martial glory.
Before passing out with a fading smile, he whispered, “You peacock you…”
David laughed (a rare thing). Flipped a few pages ahead, Lord James St.
John was on another adventure.
Why
not? He took the book to the check-out desk.
The are this week's words. Hope you enjoyed how they were used.
Also, many thanks to Delores at Under the Porch Light who started this writing stir up, and to Elephant's Child who took up the slack when Delores' computer went all wonky. And also to River who took up the baton to pass on.
Go on, with it! Fling yourself out into the unknown!
