Taltopia.com - Casting Calls, Contests & Auditions
Login with Facebook

Remove Ads?



1942

Writing

   
The soldiers knee shook rhythmically in the back seat of the quiet Taxi. However, for once he didnt notice the silence. He was paying too much attention to the snow. He disliked the snow. Or was jealous of it, he couldnt really tell all he knew was that he wanted to disrupt it. Shoot a gun at it, kick it around, it didnt matter how. He just wanted it to stop being peaceful. He was sure it was jealousy he felt now. Are you on holiday? came a gruff voice from the front. The soldier was reminded where he was by the smell of smoke and engine noises. His head lifted, but his eyes stayed on the snow. He allowed a sound to come from his mouth. More like from the back of his throat. A returning, inaudible sound to show he acknowledged the mans question, but he didnt really seem like talking. He was appreciating the silence and really did not want it to be ruined. Must be a good time for you, Soldier, The cabbie didnt take the hint, its almost Christmas! You should be smiling more. The cabbie moved his thick fingered hand to the ash tray to put out his cigar and coughed loudly into the silence. So tell me, hows the front. Or would you rather keep staring at your snow? The soldier let the silence linger before he answered, partly because he was thinking about what to say, partly because he wanted to preserve the memory of it. You dont get much silence down there. Its all white noise and scatter. It gets muddled up someplace between the ground and your ears and ends up sounding like, the soldier stopped here and thought about how to relate it to the cabbie, the TV when its done broadcasting for the day. He knew it wasnt perfect, but it would have to do. The sound that emitted from the field wasnt like anything normal people would know. He knew that, but he had to think of something. It was loud, angry, and burning. For a second he thought that mightve been why he was jealous of the snow. But the second was once again interrupted by the cabbies whistle. Thats rough man. He laughed a bit, I wouldnt be able to deal with that for long. So then, you must really be happy youre out here now, right? Why are you here anyway? You said no to vacation. The soldier continued to stare into the snow outside the cab. He bit his lower lip and blinked as he grabbed his knee to stop it from shaking. The movement, along with the cabbies voice, was really beginning to aggravate him. He didnt need both things to continue on. He knew he had a better chance of stopping one thing over the other. Max, my friend, died a few weeks ago. They sent me to inform his wife of his passing. Damn, man. The cabbie accentuated the as in a way that seemed to make his words last for hours. Thats really a downer. No wonder youre so silent back there. Tough news to deliver. He lit up another cigar, Real tough, man. The soldier hadnt thought about that before. He was too busy thinking about the silence that was to come to him to realize what exactly he had to do. He began to think about it when he felt the car stop. He looked up away from the snow to see the cabbies old, swollen eyes looking back at him through the rearview mirror. Youre here, Soldier. The pays $2.50. The soldier paid the cabbie and stepped out into the air. He looked up into the cloudy morning sky as he held out one leg, then the other to help them regain their movement. He then looked down into the quiet, white snow and repeated the movement, this time shaking his feet as he did so. He apologized to the snow quietly.

Promote This Media


    

Description


Short story for my writing class.

In which I got an "F" in because I missed like... 50% of the days. lol my bad. Oh well. Now I gotta take it again. :D I'll prolly reuse this story cause I'm lazy.

Comments





Allen
3/10/2010 12:46 PM Premium
Good work! Be sure to upload some more content.

 



+02
score


Uploaded By:

3Eoclock


Votes: 2
Views: 1,114
Date: 5/22/09
Category:
Other: Writing