With away, I immediately thought of "up, up and away!" but dashed that to pieces and thought "Too silly, don't bother." So I've been going round in circles with break up stories "no, don't go! But I must, I love you too much!" Then added a werewolf twist "No, don't go! But if I don't, I'll eat you!" then some crappy emo poem, about leaving.
Then I went, "Meh! Screw it!" Went back to the original idea and came up with this.
Bit cheese-tastic towards the end, but I think it works as a prologue as something bigger.
Then I went, "Meh! Screw it!" Went back to the original idea and came up with this.
Bit cheese-tastic towards the end, but I think it works as a prologue as something bigger.
8. Away
"Up, up and away!" The young eight year old James Frost yelled as he leapt from the top bunk of his bed, attempting to glide his way down with his newest contraption. To his imaginative mind these wings he had strapped to his back were made of the finest, thinnest silver metal, engraved ornately and powered by the magic in his veins. In reality James Frost had spent the morning cutting the news paper up and sticking the thin feather shaped pieces of paper to some thick card with string straps. But he truly believed he could fly up and away, or glide through the skies with his magic powered wings.
"Honestly!" His older sister Lucy exclaimed as she watched her younger brother jump from his bunk and land on the wooden floor with an impressive thunking sound, again. James Frost brushed himself down and inspected his wings. A few feathers had slipped loose from their flour and water paste and one wing was a little dented. He made a few notes on these matters in his mind. "Sixth time today James, you'll bash your brains out if you carry on." Lucy remarked as he inspected the wings.
James ignored his sister's rantings; it's all she ever did now. Don't do this. Don't do that. You'll hurt yourself. That's a silly idea. He imagined sticking his tongue out at her, pulling all sorts of faces at her in his mind. He then again focused his intentions on the wing design, deciding what was wrong with it. Lucy gave a teenaged sigh of frustration and stormed away, still ranting and raving as she stomped down the stairs to tell their Mother that James was a missing link.
The young James Frost clambered back up onto his bed, having un-kinked the wings and swept away any loose feathers that had become stray. In the name of magical science, he would try this as many times as it took. When he was a little older, he would go to Devil's Cliff, and from there the young James Frost would, with his magical silver wings, jump and fly. Finally going up, up, and away!
"Up, up and away!" The young eight year old James Frost yelled as he leapt from the top bunk of his bed, attempting to glide his way down with his newest contraption. To his imaginative mind these wings he had strapped to his back were made of the finest, thinnest silver metal, engraved ornately and powered by the magic in his veins. In reality James Frost had spent the morning cutting the news paper up and sticking the thin feather shaped pieces of paper to some thick card with string straps. But he truly believed he could fly up and away, or glide through the skies with his magic powered wings.
"Honestly!" His older sister Lucy exclaimed as she watched her younger brother jump from his bunk and land on the wooden floor with an impressive thunking sound, again. James Frost brushed himself down and inspected his wings. A few feathers had slipped loose from their flour and water paste and one wing was a little dented. He made a few notes on these matters in his mind. "Sixth time today James, you'll bash your brains out if you carry on." Lucy remarked as he inspected the wings.
James ignored his sister's rantings; it's all she ever did now. Don't do this. Don't do that. You'll hurt yourself. That's a silly idea. He imagined sticking his tongue out at her, pulling all sorts of faces at her in his mind. He then again focused his intentions on the wing design, deciding what was wrong with it. Lucy gave a teenaged sigh of frustration and stormed away, still ranting and raving as she stomped down the stairs to tell their Mother that James was a missing link.
The young James Frost clambered back up onto his bed, having un-kinked the wings and swept away any loose feathers that had become stray. In the name of magical science, he would try this as many times as it took. When he was a little older, he would go to Devil's Cliff, and from there the young James Frost would, with his magical silver wings, jump and fly. Finally going up, up, and away!
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