Author's Note: This is my second response to the Truman Response and I'm trying to mimic Truman's life. This is not completed and I am still working on it so I will try to finish it as soon as possible.
Ah, what a beautiful day! The sun is out, the birds are singing, music to my ears. My beautiful wife pours a hot cup of coffee into my favorite porcelain cup and serves it to me in the kindest of ways. She makes herself a cup and sits down beside me, caressing my hand, as we sip and sip upon our drinks.
"Another beautiful day here. It sure is nice, isn't it, my dear?"
"Yes, yes. Is there a better place in all the world?"
"No," The abruptness in her voice in her voice came off in a way I rarely saw from her, but I presumed it was only accidental. "I'm sorry. That sounded harsh, didn't it? I just never know how what I say will come out." We laughed it off and went on with the impeccable, relaxing daily routine.
I finished my cup of coffee, grabbed my overcoat, adjusted my tie, kissed my wife, and hopped into my sports car. Since it was a nice day and the sun was out I rolled down the roof of the car and let the wind rush through the individual strands of my hair. I liked my hair. The blondness of it glistened in the sunlight and the tips touched lightly to my eyebrows. Some might say my hair was long and childish, but I disagree. The perfection of its imperfection portrayed a happy man who had his priorities set straight before him. That is just the kind of guy I am.
I work at an entertainment agency used for actors, dancers, and singers, pretty much everything under the sun. Or everything under the spotlight. I myself have no sense of performing, but my sense of numbers was challenged by none. I am the best in all of Bullock, which is fortunate enough to have me as one of its residents, and I am the best that Bullock has ever seen. Each day I powered through the work of three men and did it with a smile on my face.
Today, I had a "large" task before me, but that label was only for the average worker. One of the best musicians known to man was coming to our agency and my job was to help him get out of his overwhelming debt. This was commonly seen among the musicians. I don't know why, but it was always them who had money problems. The actors knew how to handle money, but the musicians always were in debt. Millions of dollars sometimes, too. One might call them frustrating, but I think of them as a blessing. The more they are in debt, the more money I make. It was simple economics.
Ah, what a beautiful day! The sun is out, the birds are singing, music to my ears. My beautiful wife pours a hot cup of coffee into my favorite porcelain cup and serves it to me in the kindest of ways. She makes herself a cup and sits down beside me, caressing my hand, as we sip and sip upon our drinks.
"Another beautiful day here. It sure is nice, isn't it, my dear?"
"Yes, yes. Is there a better place in all the world?"
"No," The abruptness in her voice in her voice came off in a way I rarely saw from her, but I presumed it was only accidental. "I'm sorry. That sounded harsh, didn't it? I just never know how what I say will come out." We laughed it off and went on with the impeccable, relaxing daily routine.
I finished my cup of coffee, grabbed my overcoat, adjusted my tie, kissed my wife, and hopped into my sports car. Since it was a nice day and the sun was out I rolled down the roof of the car and let the wind rush through the individual strands of my hair. I liked my hair. The blondness of it glistened in the sunlight and the tips touched lightly to my eyebrows. Some might say my hair was long and childish, but I disagree. The perfection of its imperfection portrayed a happy man who had his priorities set straight before him. That is just the kind of guy I am.
I work at an entertainment agency used for actors, dancers, and singers, pretty much everything under the sun. Or everything under the spotlight. I myself have no sense of performing, but my sense of numbers was challenged by none. I am the best in all of Bullock, which is fortunate enough to have me as one of its residents, and I am the best that Bullock has ever seen. Each day I powered through the work of three men and did it with a smile on my face.
Today, I had a "large" task before me, but that label was only for the average worker. One of the best musicians known to man was coming to our agency and my job was to help him get out of his overwhelming debt. This was commonly seen among the musicians. I don't know why, but it was always them who had money problems. The actors knew how to handle money, but the musicians always were in debt. Millions of dollars sometimes, too. One might call them frustrating, but I think of them as a blessing. The more they are in debt, the more money I make. It was simple economics.
In Progress
This is interesting. It sounds like it relates to the Truman Show, but that might just be because I have been reading Truman Show responses. You have a very interesting way of writing, you write everything that's going on inside the characters head, and it's cool that your able to get that close to the characters you write about. great job!
ReplyDeletep.s If you like Autumn's piece about her dog, you should check out mine, because we are trying the same technique.
I think an author's note would improve the overall setting of the writing, but other than that it was good, and I'm looking forward to seeing it completed.
ReplyDeleteI really enjoyed this! Like Sophie said it sounded like a response to the Truman Show which was good. I really really liked this and look forward to seeing it completed.
ReplyDelete