Saturday, January 30, 2010

Story Time with michael




I decided to write a short story. enjoy!

Shattered Pieces by Michael M. (I'm not telling you my last name)

Drip. Drip. Drip. Drip. The sound of dripping water only made the day even more gloomy as Roger looked out the window. "It was a Stormy day," the news had said, "it was going to rain," but not this hard. Roger was not in the mood for anything as he stared at his half typed paper on his typewriter. The words were all incorrect; he couldn't pay attention so he just tore the paper out of the roller and threw it in the bin. He needed inspiration. He needed something to give him a great story to write about. Roger was barely able to afford his home. It was not that long ago that the his wife died so suddenly, that he was depressed and lost his job for being off task, and being a writer was his only choice left. What he didn't know he was always a great writer but nothing of great importance came along. Drip. Drip. Drip. Another bunch of raindrops falling from the roof onto the ground outside: he could hear them falling them it all came down again: another storm. Roger closed the curtain, turned on the record player, then started typing again. The record slowly slid down onto the turn table and spinned round and round the needle dropped itself onto the machine and started playing "Theme for A Dream" By Chet Atkins. He wasn't much of a guitar person but this song was sad and he loved it: he liked the sound of the crying guitar strings and then began typing again, the sound of the hammers hitting paper was droning out the rain, but the music was still strong enough to be heard.

"What are you going to do Roger this is your chance write about something: anything. He stopped and went to the living room and turned on the radio while he was searching for a book on the shelf to get some inspiration. "Hello Spring dale this is Spring dale radio and I'm your host Bert Wi... The following broadcast has been interrupted by the department of civil defense Fellow Americans please stay calm but in the past few hours we have been declared war by the soviet union and nuclear missiles are heading towards America. Every city is in danger be advised and go into your local fallout shelter or your own shelter and hide." Roger dropped his books and locked his doors. If this is true then I have to be safe every American is going to go nuts in a couple of minutes. He was right: the kids playing in the rain were being screamed at to come back inside and get dressed. He would go to the fallout shelter but it would be too crowded. He had already built his own and was ready for this day but now he felt so very unready. roger grabbed his clothes from his closet all his suits, pants, shirts, and hats. He then threw them into the shelter in his basement he then grabbed all the foods, water, every drop, every bottle of soda, anything. Then he went for the radio and some batteries and dropped them inside the shelter there was already food but he needed more then there was the matter of the type writer and the record player he grabbed the records and some reels of tape then came back for the reel to reel. Last but not least the TV just in case roger grabbed more furniture and lamps then he went back for his shotgun and shells when there was a knock at the door Roger froze. What should he do. He was scared.

He went and looked through the peephole and saw a family. Not just any family, his neighbors, and he knew the Henderson's since he moved in. He opened the door and let the in Martha's face light with joy and Henry a sigh of relief, "Oh roger thank you for letting us in. I knew you would let us in me and my family couldn't make it to the shelter in time and we were locked out there, bombs hitting the east coast and some coming for California we need to hurry." "Well then come on in hurry there isn't much time" Roger locked the door and let them into the shelter. He quickly locked the blast door and waited. He then organized the large shelter until it looked like a nice and cozy home. His type writer and extra ribbons and some stacks of paper. There was everything he could need for typing. Then there was some reels of tape and his reel to reel on the side roger turned on the Radio and listened to the civil defense channel. Then he waited on the coach with his neighbors. He felt worried about the food supply, but he had enough for a long time, but for how long? Then he felt a loud boom shake the entire shelter a bit, then another, and then another, then came dozens of huge blasts he felt his home fall under the entire blast. It was too late to go out to the world as he and his neighbors knew ended for good and would never be the same.
To be continuedI, Henry fixed spelling!

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