An Unimaginative Experience
The sheep laid on it's back on the middle of the train tracks as it's legs were pointing to the sky. The lever that activated the emergency break was pulled, making the passangers to jerk forward and slam back to their seats in a split second. One Zelgadis Greywords was shooked awake by the sudden jerking motion.
Lost as to what was going on, Zelgadis looked for any clue on the situation. From his window seat, he could see the endless green field populated by the average farm animal, a few cows, horses and sheep here and there. The trained curved around the perimeter of a field giving a perfect view of the animal to Zelgadis. Annoyed comments about the independency of the train service were shared by many passengers. After pulling down his reading glasses, the slam of a train door was heard and in his line of vision, a figure appeared. He narrowed his eyes at the figure, it looked to be female. She reached for the sheep, kneeled down, gripped it by it's fleece and heaved it to its feet.
"What's going on?" A voice behind Zelgadis brought him back to the train. The stranger leaned over him to look at the scene outside of the train, he smelled of alcohol and cigarettes. Zelgadis drew back on his seat.
"Interesting..." Said the stranger behind a pair of binoculars trying to get him to look out the window. "I'm a bird watcher," the man spoke trying to explain why he had a pair of binoculars strapped around his neck. He continued, "kind of like my hobby. Ah!" the stranger adjusted the lenses, "here we go. A sheep was on it's back, want to take a look?" he offered Zelgadis who kindly refused.
"I saw it as we stopped," the stranger spoke after a few moments of uncomfortable silence, then. "Pretty girl! Wanna look?"
Again, Zelgadis refused.
"What was it doing on it's back?" The stranger spoke again, trying to remain in friendly terms with Zelgadis.
"They get stuck,"
"Oh?"
"And die."
"Blood rushes to the head, doesn't it?"
"This is a non-smoking section" Said Zelgadis, trying to stop, or at best change the conversation.
"I know, I'm in the next passanger car passing by from the buffet. Ah, here comes the guard, finally some action. You must've noticed him, he's the one that was taking the tickets, seemed like a nice guy. Oh! he's shouting and she's shouting back. She might be the one that stopped the train, she looks outraged, think she's mad?"
Zelgadis didn't reply.
"There's going to be a lot of questions to be asked when this ride's over. She let go of the sheep, it's walking away and joining some other one in eating some grass without a care in the world. You sure you don't want to take a look?"
"Go away" He said tersely.
"Alright, keep your cool." He stood upright, letting the binoculars thumb against his torso. The door swished at him leaving.
Zelgadis stretched his legs as much as possible and looked ruefully at his glasses, they had snapped in his hand. However, his tormentor was back within the next few minutes.
"Think I can see if I can have a few words with her, want to come? There might be a story behind all of that, you never know. She's in coach, what do you say?"
"Leave her alone," Said Zelgadis, regretting the words after they left his mouth.
"She's a friend of yours or something? She hasn't realized that some of us have business to attend to, 'leave her alone' ha! that's rich." The man spoke, leaving a heavy trail of liquor in his breath. Zelgadis closed his eyes as he listenede for the swish of the door.
"You've cut your hand," pointed the partial drunk still hovering close. When Zelgadis hadn't answered, he moved away and the swooshing of the doors announced his retreat.
As the train began to move, he placed the glasses inside his pocket and wiped away the blood from his cut hand. Rage had mand him prockle with sweat. He wanted a drink but feared meeting his tormentor in the buffet. He had not seen the girl clearly, butr was left with the impression of a white face, ruby red eyes, heartshaped face and small lips (however, they were rather large when she was shouting at the guard) all under a fiery mane of red hair being ruffled by the wind. She had seemed a crature more vulnerable that the sheep she was rescuing, she looked deep down in despair.
Would the guard be rude to her? He had seemed to be a quet and curteous man when he asked for the tickets. Yes, the guard would be polite, for it's in their policy to be curteous to the passengers.
But what about that foul smelling bird watcher? Was he really a bird watcher, as he claimed to be? What if he's a journalist working for one of those tabloids? 'There might be a story...' were ominous words. Would the guard protect the girl? Would she perhaps take shelter in the lavatory and lock herself in? Zelgadis visualized the girl crouched miserably in confined and possibly malodoruous space for the rest of the journey.
Should he follow the stranger and prevent him imposing himself, demanding a story, not listening to a word she might say while he fabricated his own?
'Communication cord drama on train'
'Shepherdess leaps to rescue lamb'
Or worse.
'Little Bo-peep in Lamb Chop drama'
Furious, Zelgadis rose to his feet, but instantly sat down again; rushing to the rescue would make things worse.
When the train stopped at Crowne Plaza, he scanned the crowds. He had not seen her in the crowds that got off the train, at least he didn't think he saw her getting off. 'The intelligent thing to do,' he thought, 'would be to pick up her bag and make her way forward so that at Ayer, she would have a head start for a taxi cab or the bus. If she comes through here and that guy follows her, I'll get in his way while she escapes.' He decided.
The girl did not appear for the remainder of the train ride.
'In any case,' he again thought as the train approached the Ayer station, 'how would I recognize her? I didn't get to see her clearly; it was the impression that was clear. He got to his feet and, heaving his traveling bag over his shoulder, joined the rest of the crowd at the exit doors.
When he was the girl threading her way through the hurrying crowd he was reminded of Greta Garbo in the film Ninotchka, seen long ago in black and whit. She was wearing a long black coat which reached her ankles and a big black hat pulled low over her nose. He could not be sure it was the right girl until he glimpsed the stranger hunting throught hte crowd, didging like a football player to get ahead and confront her. As the black coat brushed past him, Zelgadis stepped in her wake and the man, recoiling, cannoned backwards into a trolley piled with luggage to fall on his back while the girl disappeared.
Ignoring the man's troubles, Zelgadis walked across the street from the station for a taxi. It had not been necessary to trip the man, but if it had been necessary, he would not have hesitated to do so.
***
Well, what do you think of the first chapter?
If for some particular reason this seems familiar, well I truly apologize. Most of the text is from Mary Wesley's 'An Imaginative Experience'. (hinting on my title, aren't I such a clever boy?)
If you're wondering, is the creation of me not getting enough sleep during this week, therefore I'm going through insomnia while writing this, not to mention that I thought it would be fun.
More slayer characters are going to come into play later on in the next few chapters.
Disclaimer - I do not own the Slayers characters nor 'An Imaginative Experience' I'm just having a little fun with them.
Comments or feedback is greatly appreciated AND wanted. I need an ego boost! - baka_baka60@hotmail.com
Until then, this is Ed signing off.
The sheep laid on it's back on the middle of the train tracks as it's legs were pointing to the sky. The lever that activated the emergency break was pulled, making the passangers to jerk forward and slam back to their seats in a split second. One Zelgadis Greywords was shooked awake by the sudden jerking motion.
Lost as to what was going on, Zelgadis looked for any clue on the situation. From his window seat, he could see the endless green field populated by the average farm animal, a few cows, horses and sheep here and there. The trained curved around the perimeter of a field giving a perfect view of the animal to Zelgadis. Annoyed comments about the independency of the train service were shared by many passengers. After pulling down his reading glasses, the slam of a train door was heard and in his line of vision, a figure appeared. He narrowed his eyes at the figure, it looked to be female. She reached for the sheep, kneeled down, gripped it by it's fleece and heaved it to its feet.
"What's going on?" A voice behind Zelgadis brought him back to the train. The stranger leaned over him to look at the scene outside of the train, he smelled of alcohol and cigarettes. Zelgadis drew back on his seat.
"Interesting..." Said the stranger behind a pair of binoculars trying to get him to look out the window. "I'm a bird watcher," the man spoke trying to explain why he had a pair of binoculars strapped around his neck. He continued, "kind of like my hobby. Ah!" the stranger adjusted the lenses, "here we go. A sheep was on it's back, want to take a look?" he offered Zelgadis who kindly refused.
"I saw it as we stopped," the stranger spoke after a few moments of uncomfortable silence, then. "Pretty girl! Wanna look?"
Again, Zelgadis refused.
"What was it doing on it's back?" The stranger spoke again, trying to remain in friendly terms with Zelgadis.
"They get stuck,"
"Oh?"
"And die."
"Blood rushes to the head, doesn't it?"
"This is a non-smoking section" Said Zelgadis, trying to stop, or at best change the conversation.
"I know, I'm in the next passanger car passing by from the buffet. Ah, here comes the guard, finally some action. You must've noticed him, he's the one that was taking the tickets, seemed like a nice guy. Oh! he's shouting and she's shouting back. She might be the one that stopped the train, she looks outraged, think she's mad?"
Zelgadis didn't reply.
"There's going to be a lot of questions to be asked when this ride's over. She let go of the sheep, it's walking away and joining some other one in eating some grass without a care in the world. You sure you don't want to take a look?"
"Go away" He said tersely.
"Alright, keep your cool." He stood upright, letting the binoculars thumb against his torso. The door swished at him leaving.
Zelgadis stretched his legs as much as possible and looked ruefully at his glasses, they had snapped in his hand. However, his tormentor was back within the next few minutes.
"Think I can see if I can have a few words with her, want to come? There might be a story behind all of that, you never know. She's in coach, what do you say?"
"Leave her alone," Said Zelgadis, regretting the words after they left his mouth.
"She's a friend of yours or something? She hasn't realized that some of us have business to attend to, 'leave her alone' ha! that's rich." The man spoke, leaving a heavy trail of liquor in his breath. Zelgadis closed his eyes as he listenede for the swish of the door.
"You've cut your hand," pointed the partial drunk still hovering close. When Zelgadis hadn't answered, he moved away and the swooshing of the doors announced his retreat.
As the train began to move, he placed the glasses inside his pocket and wiped away the blood from his cut hand. Rage had mand him prockle with sweat. He wanted a drink but feared meeting his tormentor in the buffet. He had not seen the girl clearly, butr was left with the impression of a white face, ruby red eyes, heartshaped face and small lips (however, they were rather large when she was shouting at the guard) all under a fiery mane of red hair being ruffled by the wind. She had seemed a crature more vulnerable that the sheep she was rescuing, she looked deep down in despair.
Would the guard be rude to her? He had seemed to be a quet and curteous man when he asked for the tickets. Yes, the guard would be polite, for it's in their policy to be curteous to the passengers.
But what about that foul smelling bird watcher? Was he really a bird watcher, as he claimed to be? What if he's a journalist working for one of those tabloids? 'There might be a story...' were ominous words. Would the guard protect the girl? Would she perhaps take shelter in the lavatory and lock herself in? Zelgadis visualized the girl crouched miserably in confined and possibly malodoruous space for the rest of the journey.
Should he follow the stranger and prevent him imposing himself, demanding a story, not listening to a word she might say while he fabricated his own?
'Communication cord drama on train'
'Shepherdess leaps to rescue lamb'
Or worse.
'Little Bo-peep in Lamb Chop drama'
Furious, Zelgadis rose to his feet, but instantly sat down again; rushing to the rescue would make things worse.
When the train stopped at Crowne Plaza, he scanned the crowds. He had not seen her in the crowds that got off the train, at least he didn't think he saw her getting off. 'The intelligent thing to do,' he thought, 'would be to pick up her bag and make her way forward so that at Ayer, she would have a head start for a taxi cab or the bus. If she comes through here and that guy follows her, I'll get in his way while she escapes.' He decided.
The girl did not appear for the remainder of the train ride.
'In any case,' he again thought as the train approached the Ayer station, 'how would I recognize her? I didn't get to see her clearly; it was the impression that was clear. He got to his feet and, heaving his traveling bag over his shoulder, joined the rest of the crowd at the exit doors.
When he was the girl threading her way through the hurrying crowd he was reminded of Greta Garbo in the film Ninotchka, seen long ago in black and whit. She was wearing a long black coat which reached her ankles and a big black hat pulled low over her nose. He could not be sure it was the right girl until he glimpsed the stranger hunting throught hte crowd, didging like a football player to get ahead and confront her. As the black coat brushed past him, Zelgadis stepped in her wake and the man, recoiling, cannoned backwards into a trolley piled with luggage to fall on his back while the girl disappeared.
Ignoring the man's troubles, Zelgadis walked across the street from the station for a taxi. It had not been necessary to trip the man, but if it had been necessary, he would not have hesitated to do so.
***
Well, what do you think of the first chapter?
If for some particular reason this seems familiar, well I truly apologize. Most of the text is from Mary Wesley's 'An Imaginative Experience'. (hinting on my title, aren't I such a clever boy?)
If you're wondering, is the creation of me not getting enough sleep during this week, therefore I'm going through insomnia while writing this, not to mention that I thought it would be fun.
More slayer characters are going to come into play later on in the next few chapters.
Disclaimer - I do not own the Slayers characters nor 'An Imaginative Experience' I'm just having a little fun with them.
Comments or feedback is greatly appreciated AND wanted. I need an ego boost! - baka_baka60@hotmail.com
Until then, this is Ed signing off.