Dances happily I have a beta reader! Whoa! Anyway, on with the chapter!
Pot Of CornChapter Six- A little Mort Moment
Mort tilted his head side ways as he stared at the trashcan with the script Shooter had written in it. Mort tapped his foot and bit his thumbnail, wondering what to do. He was so close to burning it last night. Why didn't he? Was it a sign that he was supposed to read the new script?
"Ok. I'm going to not think about it for awhile. I'm going to clear my head and go upstairs. Take a nap. That sounds great. I'll take a nap." He said, getting up and going up stairs.
Only one problem with this great plan. He wasn't tired.
The sound of Mort coming back downstairs echoed. He paced around his living room table and scratched the back of his head. What to do, what to do.
"I know. I'll take a shower."
Did that.
"Ok, then I'll eat Breakfast."
Also, been checked off the list.
"Then what the hell am I supposed to do?"
Burn the script? Ever thought of that one? It may be a great story, but we don't need Shooter in our lives. We need to get rid of him as fast as his hick self can go!
"You're right." Mort said with a smile. "You're absolutely right. I'll just go and grab the matches. Then, I'll smoke the fucking script into ashes. Just like I planned before."
Mort went over to the table and grabbed the matches. He lit one and opened the trashcan lid. "Well, can't say it was fun having you here." Mort muttered to the script before dropping the match into the can.
Only to Mort's absolute horror, the match went out before it reached the script. Mort cursed under his breath and went to light another match, only to find he ran out of them.
"Damn." He muttered, closing the lid and turned around. He took a calming breath. "Ok. Now what?"
Mort ran a hand through his unruly hair as he sat down in one of the kitchen chairs. He rested his chin in his hand, rubbing his stubble chin in thought. There were a lot of questions running through his mind like what to do with this script? It apparently didn't want to burn like a good piece of paper.
He could always read it.
No way in hell am I letting you read it!
Mort rolled his head around, hearing a popping sound in his neck. He clicked his jaw in a nervous gesture and continued to stare at the trash can.
Well, whenever in doubt go write.
Mort stood up and went upstairs. He decided to ignore the little script and on trash day it would be gone form his life. And if Shooter ever came back, Mort would simply put a gun to his chin and force him to leave.
Mort smiled at his own resolve and sat down at his desk. Soon he would be getting a brand new desk. He had a brand new girl in his life. And, he was soon going to have a brand new book on the shelves. Nothing in the world could be better then him right now.
Mort turned on his laptop and stared at the words. They didn't seem to fit his scheme anymore. He decided to fix it later. He put his hands on top of the keyboard and began to type feverishly.
The girl silently pawed her way out of the cave in the dead of night. The moon, lighting the way through the thicket of trees, making her path seem even more formidable then before. She seemed oblivious of the danger that lurched only a few feet from her.
Her trusty hound was asleep, deep in the darkened and safe cave. He was of no use to her at her current position.
She crept out of the cave, sprinting across the foggy ground, moonlight hitting her small and precarious form as she weaved through trees, dodging them without effort due to living in this haven man called a forest.
As she wondered, her thoughts traveled far from her mind, wondering about her family which she never spoke of, for the trees and her hound were now her family. The dark and accepting forest was now her home. She would never argue with that.
The silent creature moved along with her, without her knowledge. It crept behind her, hiding its form in the shadows, stalking her and getting so close it could smell the sweat pacing her face.
This excited the shadowed figure as it moved closer to her sprinting form. It reached out a clawed hand and snatched at her. She barely escaped without knowledge that she was dodging the beast that fell in her wake.
The beast would try again, later in her trails as she returned from her quest of food.
Mort sat back in his chair, one hand resting on his chin. He peered at his writing, rereading it to make sure it flowed with the dramatic grasp he was going for. He nodded in approval, only changing a word or two. His spell check corrected a few spelling mistakes. He smiled as he looked the whole story over again.
It's rising. Soon, the story will be over. A short story, but a good story none the less.
Mort ran his hand through his bed head again, feeling the tips were still wet from his early morning shower. He stood up to find a comb.
Much to his disappointment, he could not find a comb or brush. He muttered something about everything he owned disappearing on him. He let his left hand travel down his right arm until it reached his wrist. He felt the little friendship bracelet that he had put on earlier.
The bracelet was childish, filled with colored beads. Many of them green or blue. There were a few spotted ones. There was one red bead with white little spots on it and a big yellow one.
He smiled and traced his fingers over the band. He rather liked it, even though it looked like a child had made it. Mort always liked strange little gifts. It was in his nature.
He shook his head and saved his story.
Author's Personal Note
I just wanted a short chapter with Mort writing and some of his little nervous gestures. I felt like this story needed it right about here. And in case you are wondering, yes this story is ending in a few more chapters. I'm a master of the short stories. I like short stories and doubt I'll write more then three longs stories in my FF.net name.
I reread all my reviews. I noticed a lot of you actually got my jokes and laughed too! I honestly didn't think anyone other then my friends and I would get the inside jokes, but a lot of you did. And it seems a lot of you get my sense of humor! Mort, while being silly, talks exactly like me. (I couldn't help it! I had to!) It's amazing to see how many people really respond to my humor and give me such great reviews. I'm truly happy whenever I get a responsive review with my readers.
I'm also happy to state that this story hasn't seen a flamer so far! I'm hoping to keep it that way. I used to suck at writing and had a group of flamers that flamed every story I wrote. I'm very happy that they haven't shown their faces as of yet and the good reviewers are here!
And yes, you critics, I like you guys too! If it weren't for you guys, I'd have no inspiration to become better at my writing. Thanks to all my reviewers!