Morning everyone. The week is just chugging along. I will say that yesterday’s prompt got my brain stirring and I ended up writing out a lot of ideas. I love when that happens. It makes me very excited for the next writing prompt, which we have now. So let’s just jump into it. Timers set and off we go.
Interesting. I like some of the details and will have to think about the danger Bryson actually represents but I like the set up. Just need to spend time thinking about this world before I write it.
Thursday, August 27th: He sauntered into the room.
He sauntered into the room. George tried to decide if he had ever seen anyone saunter before. He didn’t think so. He knew the word because he read a lot and made a point of memorizing his word of the day calendar. He didn’t come from a neighborhood where people sauntered.
They had their own style of walks of course. There were the ground eating strides of those who fancied themselves leaders. There was the strut of those who felt they were untouchable. There was the scurry of those trying to avoid notice and then there was what he liked to think of as the casual everyday walk. He thought it was how everyone walked until he came here. It was a calm and steady walk, quick-footed but not enough to be considered a scurry. It got you from one place to another while announcing that you weren’t looking for trouble but if someone took issue with you then you would defend yourself. It was coupled with the stance when you stopped walking that he simply thought of as standing.
‘At least until I came here,’ George thought. He was learning that each place had its own style of movement and its opinions on the walks and stance of others. His basic walk apparently projected confidence and his stance was often considered less standing and more braced for a fight.
He had his opinions on the others but as there were more of them, he kept his opinions to himself. He softened his stance slightly and even though the others still thought he looked like he expected trouble, he no longer looked braced for its arrival.
This saunter was something new. While he appreciated seeing a word from his memorized vocabulary in action, there was something in the movement that spoke of trouble to him. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise. He Looked around but the others were looking at Bryson with curiosity but no concern.
It didn’t tell him much. There were many things he knew were concerning that didn’t phase them. Something told him that he didn’t want any part of whatever this was. He was standing near the door to the kitchen. Bryson had yet to look in his direction. He slipped through the doorway and out of the room. His bag with his study materials was still on his shoulder as he just arrived. It was easy to reverse the process, slipping out of the back door as though he had never been there.
The house was designed as a hang out for students. There were private study rooms upstairs that groups could claim and a lough where they could just hang out together. There were different houses like this located throughout the Academy’s campus. He was supposed to meat Franklin here but franklin called at the last minute to cancel. He thought he could meet up with the others but Bryson’s arrival changed that.
George hit the sidewalk and kept going, heading towards the library. As he walked, he reviewed Bryson’s appearance trying to figure out why it raised the hairs on his neck. He couldn’t find a reason. Growing up he knew not to run from a fight. When confronted he faced an attacker head on. This was different. Every part of him screamed to get out and so he did. Somehow, he still felt as though he ran from a fight, but was also certain it was his best option.
He had a few run in’s with Bryson and knew they would never get along, but for the most part they each avoided the other.
Ten til Midnight 