Tuesday, September 6, 2016

TRQ finds another lost manuscript! Briarton, Part 1

I didn't put a date on this one.  I'm guessing I wrote it in junior high school.  I am sincerely hoping I didn't write it in college.

The wee-folk of Briarton gathered beneath parasols of clover and honey-suckle to protect themselves from early morning dew-drops at the base of a hollowed tree stump which served as the Mayor's residence.  [AAAAGGHHH!  I CAN'T BELIEVE I EVER WROTE THE WORDS "PARASOLS OF CLOVER!"]

With chipmunk cheeks puffed with disgust, the village doctor, Paddywise Putnam [Maybe I'd just read The Hobbit?] rapped his fist sharply upon the tree stump's door . . . 


1.  Feel free to wonder why PP is rapping his fist (sharply) upon the tree stump's door.
2.  Feel free to wonder why PP's cheeks are puffed with disgust.
3.  Feel free to wonder what cheeks puffed with disgust look like.
4.  Feel free to be happy I didn't take up writing fantasy as a career.


radagast said...

Ooo, I hope there are gnomes!

James said...

Cheeks filled with disgust is great imagery. Usually my cheeks are just filled with burritos or pie. I would like to visit Briarton.

Dianna said...

I think you should publish an anthology of stories written by children. They're so funny, and I think they tell us a lot about how children perceive grown-ups and the world.

Have you read The Young Visiters by Daisy Ashford? It's a society novel written by a nine-year-old in 1890. I've never laughed so hard at anything in my life.