Author's Note:
This sort of dribble reinforces my belief that my job really needs to consist of more than just two hours of paperwork and six hours of watching the ceiling tiles leak. Review it if you're of a mind; otherwise, just enjoy the idea. ;) Don't forget to keep an eye on my author's page for progress reports and idle rambling.
Oh, and one other thing: you might recognize references to other stories in here. I wouldn't have mentioned them at all had I not liked them. The views of Ephram or Amy are FICTION, people. They may or may not in any way reflect the views of this writer. Keep up the good work, fellow authors.
Cheers.
Jack B. Nimble
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Amy moved her light-pen down the pad a little, causing the screen to scroll down. Clucking her tongue, she shook her head. Where did these people come up with these ideas? After a few more minutes of reading, she picked up the cel phone on the desk next to her. She dialed almost without looking at the keypad.
"'Lo?" came Ephram's sleepy voice when the line picked up.
"Hey," she said without taking her eyes off the screen.
"Amy? Why are you calling at," there was a pause, "eight-thirty on a Saturday morning?"
"Did you read that e-mail I sent you a couple days ago?" she asked him.
"Yeah. Those stories are weird," he said. He sounded more awake now, and she heard him clicking away on his iMac in the background. "Some of them are pretty good, though."
She nodded, then realized he couldn't see her.
"Oh yeah. Fanfiction dot net has some of the better stories out there. Did you see the one where I got pregnant with Colin's baby on that last day before his surgery?"
A chuckle came over the line.
"That one made me laugh. You get all the good stories. People seem intent on hurting me or putting me in the hospital," Ephram told her.
"Oh, like the one about the plane crash," she said, clicking back to that one.
"Yeah, or what about the girl who commits suicide? That's harsh, Amy. Going after my emotions like that, I mean."
"Well, people need something to do during the summer television season, and you do have to admit they're pretty well written," she shrugged. Some of the stories were pretty far-fetched, but she found herself liking the majority. In fact, she hadn't told Ephram she was writing a long one about the two of them. Maybe she'd float the idea past him. "Hey, know what we should do? We should write a few of our own!"
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line.
"I don't know about that, Amy. Wouldn't it seem a little weird to be writing about yourself? Why not just get a LiveJournal or something?"
She thought about that for a moment and decided it was better that he didn't know.
"Good point. Oooh! Look, here's another one about that hottie that moved to Everwood."
"Which one?" Amy told him. "Oh yeah? Another chapter?" She heard a few more clicks in the background, then Ephram sighed. "Think we oughta tell them what really happened after Colin's surgery? No one's even come close," he said.
"Mmm , I don't think so," she said without hesitation. Let them wonder. "They can wait until September 15th. Hey, here's a question for you. Do you really blink when you lie?"
"I'm not sure. I don't usually concentrate on my eyelids when I'm lying to Dad. You?"
"No idea. Lie to me about something next time I see you and I'll watch your eyes."
"But you do that anyway," a new voice on the line said.
"Bright! Get off the line! This is a private conversation," she yelped in surprise.
"When did Bright learn to use a telephone?" Ephram asked innocently.
"Why don't you keep your mouth shut, Brown?" Bright retorted.
"Because it would make using a telephone difficult, moron."
"Stop it, both of you or I'll...I'll..." Amy huffed and scrolled down the list of stories. "I'll tell everyone on fanfiction dot net about the fact that you sleep with a stuffed raccoon and smiley-faced boxer shorts, Bright. And I'll tell them just how many days a week you do your own laundry, Ephram."
"Shit. She's playing hardball, Bright," Ephram said with a tone of mild amusement.
"What's this fanfiction dot net thing?" the other boy asked him.
"It's computer-related. You wouldn't understand."
"You're probably - hey, wait a minute!" her brother exclaimed.
The conversation went downhill from there. Amy prudently disconnected and sighed. She was going to have to give up on those two one of these days. They just couldn't click. Oh well.
Shrugging off the past twenty minutes, she logged into the website. Within minutes she had uploaded another chapter of her little tale. She sat back and smiled, positive her loyal reviewers were looking forward to finding out about Bright's sleeping arrangements.
This sort of dribble reinforces my belief that my job really needs to consist of more than just two hours of paperwork and six hours of watching the ceiling tiles leak. Review it if you're of a mind; otherwise, just enjoy the idea. ;) Don't forget to keep an eye on my author's page for progress reports and idle rambling.
Oh, and one other thing: you might recognize references to other stories in here. I wouldn't have mentioned them at all had I not liked them. The views of Ephram or Amy are FICTION, people. They may or may not in any way reflect the views of this writer. Keep up the good work, fellow authors.
Cheers.
Jack B. Nimble
----------
Amy moved her light-pen down the pad a little, causing the screen to scroll down. Clucking her tongue, she shook her head. Where did these people come up with these ideas? After a few more minutes of reading, she picked up the cel phone on the desk next to her. She dialed almost without looking at the keypad.
"'Lo?" came Ephram's sleepy voice when the line picked up.
"Hey," she said without taking her eyes off the screen.
"Amy? Why are you calling at," there was a pause, "eight-thirty on a Saturday morning?"
"Did you read that e-mail I sent you a couple days ago?" she asked him.
"Yeah. Those stories are weird," he said. He sounded more awake now, and she heard him clicking away on his iMac in the background. "Some of them are pretty good, though."
She nodded, then realized he couldn't see her.
"Oh yeah. Fanfiction dot net has some of the better stories out there. Did you see the one where I got pregnant with Colin's baby on that last day before his surgery?"
A chuckle came over the line.
"That one made me laugh. You get all the good stories. People seem intent on hurting me or putting me in the hospital," Ephram told her.
"Oh, like the one about the plane crash," she said, clicking back to that one.
"Yeah, or what about the girl who commits suicide? That's harsh, Amy. Going after my emotions like that, I mean."
"Well, people need something to do during the summer television season, and you do have to admit they're pretty well written," she shrugged. Some of the stories were pretty far-fetched, but she found herself liking the majority. In fact, she hadn't told Ephram she was writing a long one about the two of them. Maybe she'd float the idea past him. "Hey, know what we should do? We should write a few of our own!"
There was a brief pause on the other end of the line.
"I don't know about that, Amy. Wouldn't it seem a little weird to be writing about yourself? Why not just get a LiveJournal or something?"
She thought about that for a moment and decided it was better that he didn't know.
"Good point. Oooh! Look, here's another one about that hottie that moved to Everwood."
"Which one?" Amy told him. "Oh yeah? Another chapter?" She heard a few more clicks in the background, then Ephram sighed. "Think we oughta tell them what really happened after Colin's surgery? No one's even come close," he said.
"Mmm , I don't think so," she said without hesitation. Let them wonder. "They can wait until September 15th. Hey, here's a question for you. Do you really blink when you lie?"
"I'm not sure. I don't usually concentrate on my eyelids when I'm lying to Dad. You?"
"No idea. Lie to me about something next time I see you and I'll watch your eyes."
"But you do that anyway," a new voice on the line said.
"Bright! Get off the line! This is a private conversation," she yelped in surprise.
"When did Bright learn to use a telephone?" Ephram asked innocently.
"Why don't you keep your mouth shut, Brown?" Bright retorted.
"Because it would make using a telephone difficult, moron."
"Stop it, both of you or I'll...I'll..." Amy huffed and scrolled down the list of stories. "I'll tell everyone on fanfiction dot net about the fact that you sleep with a stuffed raccoon and smiley-faced boxer shorts, Bright. And I'll tell them just how many days a week you do your own laundry, Ephram."
"Shit. She's playing hardball, Bright," Ephram said with a tone of mild amusement.
"What's this fanfiction dot net thing?" the other boy asked him.
"It's computer-related. You wouldn't understand."
"You're probably - hey, wait a minute!" her brother exclaimed.
The conversation went downhill from there. Amy prudently disconnected and sighed. She was going to have to give up on those two one of these days. They just couldn't click. Oh well.
Shrugging off the past twenty minutes, she logged into the website. Within minutes she had uploaded another chapter of her little tale. She sat back and smiled, positive her loyal reviewers were looking forward to finding out about Bright's sleeping arrangements.
