Post by Andrew Workman on Jun 23, 2005 9:07:21 GMT -8
I thought I'd post this here, too, to see what people think of it thus far. It's a little tidbit from the story I'm working on.
Bryan Anderson, age fourteen, sat down in the old wicker rocker on the rotting front deck of the ancient house seated on West Liberty Street. The sun was slowly rising to the east, it’s warm summer glare casting shadows around his house, while the houses of the neighbors across the street had a welcoming sided glance of the beautiful shining orb.
The rocker creaked as Bryan rocked back and forth. His pace was slow; having just woken up, he hadn’t wanted to do anything. However, his mother had sent him outside to get the morning paper, The Gazette, and bring it in, but Bryan had plans of his own, plans that would be set before he entered the house with the paper: to sit in the rocker watching the few cars pass by in the early morning house.
“Bryan, I want that paper now!” Bryan stopped rocking, the old chair creaking under the pressure. He pushed himself off from the chair, and began his slow walk down the crumbling cement stairs. The cement was cool on his feet, the sun beaming off of the windows of the neighboring homes casting a golden brown color on his bare chest. He bent down, the slight morning breeze whipping at the bottoms of his pants, picking up the paper. A car went by and honked the horn, the woman in the car expressing her screaming sexuality. Bryan watched as the woman drove off, and secretly longed to meet her in person, perhaps get to know her better.
Paper in hand, Bryan walked up to the house. His mother was standing at the front door, her arms crossed. Mrs. Anderson was a stern woman, not taking anything from anybody, punishing you if you were a second late. To go with her stern attitude was her stern face, sharp and skinny, white as a piece of paper.
“Get in there and take a shower,” Mrs. Anderson said, moving aside from the door, allowing Bryan to walk into the house. Bryan complied, and as he slowly walked into the front room, he glanced his sister to the side. She was one beautiful creature, even Bryan thought that. She was shapely, oh how she was, catching the attention of every male figure that moved. Bryan, of course, thought the thoughts he had about here were absolutely repulsive, but because of age, he could not control his hormones. He longed to be with her, the same way he longed to be with the woman from the car, but the fear of being found out kept his thoughts to just that.
As he turned his gaze away from the beautiful creature in the other room, he noticed a light on in the bathroom. ‘Probably dad in there,’ Bryan thought to himself, heading in the other direction, towards the wooden staircase.
“Mom!” he called out as he climbed up the stairs. “I’ll be using the shower upstairs!” He didn’t wait for a reply from her as he shut the door behind her, her voice absorbing in the solid wood door. The body length mirror that stood next to the shower was giving off a horrible glare, the sun now shining directly in through the window onto the mirror. Bryan didn’t worry about this; he’d be in the shower in a minute and wouldn’t have to look at the mirror. But, while he was there, he decided to look at something, make sure something was as it should be. He dropped his pants, looking straight into the mirror, the naked reflection of a well built fourteen year old staring back at him. ‘No wonder nobody can resist me,’ Bryan thought to himself as he walked away from the mirror, towards the shower. He pulled the shower door open and turned the knobs, adjusting the water to the right temperature before stepping in.
The slow stream of hot water splashed against his body, a slight stream rising from the water. He let his head fall back, the water rolling down his neck onto his chest. The steam was now filling up the small shower stall, a fog forming on the glass of the door. Bryan opened the little window that was next to the stall, the steam silently moving out into the cool morning air. Bryan heard people outside, and the faint noise of another shower, the shower to the house next to his. He was never really fond of the way these houses were set up; some were so close that if two people were taking a shower at the same time with the shower windows open, you could look over and see the other person. He liked this to an extent, as the girl that lived next door was beautiful, and he had a crush on her, but he wasn’t too happy about showering the same time as her parents…
Bryan concentrated on the view he had into the small window. Whoever was showering in the neighboring house was on the first story, and if Bryan’s thoughts were correct, he’d be able to see Stephanie, the girl whom he wanted to have for himself. He was correct, he soon found out, when he stood up on his tip toes and looked down at the lower window. There she was, her one hand on her hip, the other grabbing the bar of soap, rubbing it all over her wet body. The image aroused Bryan, and as it was too early in the morning to act like a monkey, he stood flat foot, staring at the very bottom of his window. He, too, grabbed the bar of soap, lathered up his hands, and began to wash…
Bryan Anderson, age fourteen, sat down in the old wicker rocker on the rotting front deck of the ancient house seated on West Liberty Street. The sun was slowly rising to the east, it’s warm summer glare casting shadows around his house, while the houses of the neighbors across the street had a welcoming sided glance of the beautiful shining orb.
The rocker creaked as Bryan rocked back and forth. His pace was slow; having just woken up, he hadn’t wanted to do anything. However, his mother had sent him outside to get the morning paper, The Gazette, and bring it in, but Bryan had plans of his own, plans that would be set before he entered the house with the paper: to sit in the rocker watching the few cars pass by in the early morning house.
“Bryan, I want that paper now!” Bryan stopped rocking, the old chair creaking under the pressure. He pushed himself off from the chair, and began his slow walk down the crumbling cement stairs. The cement was cool on his feet, the sun beaming off of the windows of the neighboring homes casting a golden brown color on his bare chest. He bent down, the slight morning breeze whipping at the bottoms of his pants, picking up the paper. A car went by and honked the horn, the woman in the car expressing her screaming sexuality. Bryan watched as the woman drove off, and secretly longed to meet her in person, perhaps get to know her better.
Paper in hand, Bryan walked up to the house. His mother was standing at the front door, her arms crossed. Mrs. Anderson was a stern woman, not taking anything from anybody, punishing you if you were a second late. To go with her stern attitude was her stern face, sharp and skinny, white as a piece of paper.
“Get in there and take a shower,” Mrs. Anderson said, moving aside from the door, allowing Bryan to walk into the house. Bryan complied, and as he slowly walked into the front room, he glanced his sister to the side. She was one beautiful creature, even Bryan thought that. She was shapely, oh how she was, catching the attention of every male figure that moved. Bryan, of course, thought the thoughts he had about here were absolutely repulsive, but because of age, he could not control his hormones. He longed to be with her, the same way he longed to be with the woman from the car, but the fear of being found out kept his thoughts to just that.
As he turned his gaze away from the beautiful creature in the other room, he noticed a light on in the bathroom. ‘Probably dad in there,’ Bryan thought to himself, heading in the other direction, towards the wooden staircase.
“Mom!” he called out as he climbed up the stairs. “I’ll be using the shower upstairs!” He didn’t wait for a reply from her as he shut the door behind her, her voice absorbing in the solid wood door. The body length mirror that stood next to the shower was giving off a horrible glare, the sun now shining directly in through the window onto the mirror. Bryan didn’t worry about this; he’d be in the shower in a minute and wouldn’t have to look at the mirror. But, while he was there, he decided to look at something, make sure something was as it should be. He dropped his pants, looking straight into the mirror, the naked reflection of a well built fourteen year old staring back at him. ‘No wonder nobody can resist me,’ Bryan thought to himself as he walked away from the mirror, towards the shower. He pulled the shower door open and turned the knobs, adjusting the water to the right temperature before stepping in.
The slow stream of hot water splashed against his body, a slight stream rising from the water. He let his head fall back, the water rolling down his neck onto his chest. The steam was now filling up the small shower stall, a fog forming on the glass of the door. Bryan opened the little window that was next to the stall, the steam silently moving out into the cool morning air. Bryan heard people outside, and the faint noise of another shower, the shower to the house next to his. He was never really fond of the way these houses were set up; some were so close that if two people were taking a shower at the same time with the shower windows open, you could look over and see the other person. He liked this to an extent, as the girl that lived next door was beautiful, and he had a crush on her, but he wasn’t too happy about showering the same time as her parents…
Bryan concentrated on the view he had into the small window. Whoever was showering in the neighboring house was on the first story, and if Bryan’s thoughts were correct, he’d be able to see Stephanie, the girl whom he wanted to have for himself. He was correct, he soon found out, when he stood up on his tip toes and looked down at the lower window. There she was, her one hand on her hip, the other grabbing the bar of soap, rubbing it all over her wet body. The image aroused Bryan, and as it was too early in the morning to act like a monkey, he stood flat foot, staring at the very bottom of his window. He, too, grabbed the bar of soap, lathered up his hands, and began to wash…
