Author's note: This is just something I thought of a little while ago, and wrote in about half an hour. I have decided to make it into a full story, but I don't know when I'll be able to update it again. Can you guess who's point of view it is?
Prologue
First, I'll draw you in with a heart-string family story.
My father was a good-for-nothing, and my mother drank away her troubles.
My brother will be in jail for killing someone, but he's a good soul, turned to religion, and all that.
I alone escaped the poverty, and now I've got an upstandin' job.
Add a hint of country twang, and some pride.
You're intrigued in spite of yourself, although you never meant to stop for more than a moment.
You'll sit down, and I'll smile gently.
You see this trinket?
I acquired it in my travels to Asia and the Middle East.
And this basket?
An old friend of mine purchased it in Africa.
Don't believe me?
Never mind, you'll never call me out on it.
My eyes will go to the left-hand corner and I'll sigh.
What am I doing, you may ask?
Why, I'm reminiscing, of course!
I'll tell you a story, about my childhood- maybe one where my family is happy briefly, and my brother and I are young.
A summer in a cabin near the beach, or a spring trip to the big city.
I'll read you like a book- I can tell what story would work best.
It'll be the best summer of my life.
But see here, this is where it gets tricky- I know what story was best, which life was most like yours.
I'm never wrong.
I've reminded you of a summer in your childhood.
You feel the need to share the story, and I'll show the enthusiasm.
But don't worry, I am paying attention- it may come in handy later.
You'll smile, and I will tell you that it was a great story.
I'll make a joke about irony, and we will both laugh.
Do you have time to listen to a story?
I'll ask.
You'll shake your head regretfully, and frown sadly.
You have to go now, something to do, but you've had a lovely time.
You'll hand me a tip, thinking you're being nice.
You walk away, part of you wishing you could stay with me, and hear everything I have to say.
You think you don't have time for a story, but little do you know, you've already heard one.
Perhaps not mine, but it was someone's...
The story of someone else who came wandering in to see me.
Now do you understand?
Do you know who I am?
I am a storyteller.
And your story will soon be told.
AN: What do you think? Should I continue? Do you know who's POV it is?
