Waiting Longer by Stelmarta
This was an English assignment last year that I just unearthed while trying to clean out my old folders and realized was pretty fun. The assignment was to write in the style of "The Things They Carried" by Tim O'Brien, and I decided to portray people that I am acquainted with and count myself among – Star Wars fans.
This is about TPM, not AOTC and, by the way, it's purposely vague.
Enjoy, and may the force be with you!
They were the waiters. They had seen the end; they were waiting for the beginning. They had waited for the return for over a decade, but now it was down to days, hours, minutes. They had waited in their homes for many years, but now they waited in line, or in parking lots, or on grassy lawns, or on faded pavement, or on the sidewalk outside the theatre. Some were still in their homes too, after all these years, waiting for the crowds to die down, determined not to be caught in the rush. They waited for something illusory, a phantom, something they had just barely tasted, and now wanted an entire bite of. They had been teased, their expectations were very high, and they felt in their hearts that they would be satisfied. They dreamed of this: of far away places, of fierce warriors, dark lords, and noble crusaders. Of rebellion and war and daring counterattacks. They dreamed of death and life and evil plots and hope.
They carried what they could. Some carried many things, some almost nothing at all, but everyone carried a sense of the anticipation of the new, of the beginning. They carried popcorn and coke and other concession stand products, some carried novels to pass the time, some carried on conversations with fellow fans, some carried merchandise and memorabilia, some carried flashlights to illuminate the dark, some carried complex, or not so complex, costumes and uniforms and robes on their backs. Some labored under elaborate headdresses and thick layers of makeup, showing their enthusiasm through costumes and impersonating their favorite characters. They carried food and water and portable tents. A great many carried a sense of weariness after sleeping on the cold ground for several days, but all felt their burdens were worth it.
They were the first wave, the largest. More would come later, many from this wave would return. But they were still waiting, not long yet. It was almost midnight, and then what they were waiting for would come. A great cheer would be let out all over the country as the clocks hit 12:01am, and the waiters would file in, take their seats, and wait for it to begin.
This was an English assignment last year that I just unearthed while trying to clean out my old folders and realized was pretty fun. The assignment was to write in the style of "The Things They Carried" by Tim O'Brien, and I decided to portray people that I am acquainted with and count myself among – Star Wars fans.
This is about TPM, not AOTC and, by the way, it's purposely vague.
Enjoy, and may the force be with you!
They were the waiters. They had seen the end; they were waiting for the beginning. They had waited for the return for over a decade, but now it was down to days, hours, minutes. They had waited in their homes for many years, but now they waited in line, or in parking lots, or on grassy lawns, or on faded pavement, or on the sidewalk outside the theatre. Some were still in their homes too, after all these years, waiting for the crowds to die down, determined not to be caught in the rush. They waited for something illusory, a phantom, something they had just barely tasted, and now wanted an entire bite of. They had been teased, their expectations were very high, and they felt in their hearts that they would be satisfied. They dreamed of this: of far away places, of fierce warriors, dark lords, and noble crusaders. Of rebellion and war and daring counterattacks. They dreamed of death and life and evil plots and hope.
They carried what they could. Some carried many things, some almost nothing at all, but everyone carried a sense of the anticipation of the new, of the beginning. They carried popcorn and coke and other concession stand products, some carried novels to pass the time, some carried on conversations with fellow fans, some carried merchandise and memorabilia, some carried flashlights to illuminate the dark, some carried complex, or not so complex, costumes and uniforms and robes on their backs. Some labored under elaborate headdresses and thick layers of makeup, showing their enthusiasm through costumes and impersonating their favorite characters. They carried food and water and portable tents. A great many carried a sense of weariness after sleeping on the cold ground for several days, but all felt their burdens were worth it.
They were the first wave, the largest. More would come later, many from this wave would return. But they were still waiting, not long yet. It was almost midnight, and then what they were waiting for would come. A great cheer would be let out all over the country as the clocks hit 12:01am, and the waiters would file in, take their seats, and wait for it to begin.