Writing Exercise III

Another Mad Libs Monday, another three words, another piece of shit story. Ready? Let’s get this over and done.

Today’s words are Follow (n.), Desirable (adj.) and Invoice (tra v.)

Angels broke out in song, tiny harps strummed by cherubic hands as Duke Dierker caught scent of lilac, persimmon, honey and lavendar; a sure sign that Honey Finne was near. He turned to see her scanning the library. The lights brightened and drowned everyone else out visually. It was Honey and Duke, alone at last.

Nevermind she had no clue who Duke Dierker was. They were alone and that was all that mattered to the boy cruelly named Marmaduke.

“Please put your hormones in check, Dookie,” said Oliver Wendellfitz, Marmaduke’s best friend, barely looking up from his Kindle. “She’ll never talk to you. And thank sweet Jesus for that, too.”

“Why’s that?”

Marmaduke was a dreamer; Oliver the realist. Whereas Duke saw the cup half-full, decorated with stars and sparrows and hearts and kitties and rainbows, Ollie saw the cup as it was: two times the size it needed to be. “Sure, she’s desirable,” Ollie started before being interrupted.

“Desirable? How about hot? Friggin’ hot. The hottest thing ever.”

“No. Not even close.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Dookie, I deal in obtainables. The real. The now. Things I can touch and feel. Stop kidding yourself about this girl. Look.”

Honey Finne walked to her friends with a wave. Another boy, who thought he was more in love with her than Duke Dierker, made his move, walking to close to her, nearly knocking her over. She looked terrified as the boy stammered something that sounded like “Boobie weekend me hand ticket cash popcorn.” before Honey started to walk away. He followed her as if on the follow, her boyfriend, Langford Crandall standing up to reroute the kid.

“See that? A boyfriend, and terrified of guys like us.”

Duke sighed. “Yeah. I know. Still, it’s nice to dream. Thanks for the reality check, Ollie.”

“Don’t thank me until I invoice you for the psychiatry,” Ollie mumbled, already getting lost into the story on his Kindle. One obviously not written by this author, I can assure you.

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One thought on “Writing Exercise III”

  1. It wasn’t that bad, though. You did such a good job of describing the scene; I really did feel like I was in the library with this bunch of high school kids. And I loved the way you started the piece, with the over-exaggerated talk about the angels singing from on high. It drew me in right away, letting me know that this was THE IT GIRL who Duke has been longing for forever in a “show, don’t tell” way.

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