Here is a "campfire tale" I wrote to earn Bolt's Smorz badge 
PHANTOM SHIVA
7:14 AM. Friday. She marched toward a bicycle chained to the mailbox post and with quivering, blue fingers unfastened the lock with the solitary key hanging from her sterling chain necklace. The rain was pouring incessantly, licking the make-up off her face,her eyes appeared as if it were bleeding caramel. She rode the bicycle and pedaled hard, bracing through the heavy downpour. In the same breath, without warning a vehicle shot out into the street. The engine screeches to a halt. Shattered glasses flew. A car alarm went off. And behind the cloudy haze, a body laid twisted agonizingly by the pavement. The road was the color of blood.
He was sitting in the corner booth in some lonely cafe, fingering his half eaten bagel. The clock on the wall read half past eight. Out of overwhelming boredom, he rose from his seat, gathered his books and left a message at the counter. He put on his coat and under the rain, walked back to the dormitory.
9:12 AM. She found him curled up on the couch, his right foot bobbing up and down to the beat of a Bob Marley song. "I left Coffee World. 'Can't stand the cold.", he mumbled under his breath. "I hate the rain." was all she responded and crouched by the fire. Her hair was still dripping. "Shiva," he said, "I'll meet you after History class." and gathered his coat resting atop a battered console chair. "6:30", she whispered. "6:30.", he echoed.
6:34 PM. He was stranded in Luxemburg Hall, the water flooded the quadrangle situated infront of the building by 3 feet. He was beginning to grow frustrated and contemplated an excuse. The sound of footsteps padding down the hallway distracted him from his vacation. He turned around. "Professor Rausch." he greeted. "Keith, how are you doing." the man responded. "Have you heard of what happened...this morning...to your friend, Shiva." The boy returned a bewildered stare.
"She met an accident at Francis Street..."
"You are mistaken Professor Rausch..."
"I'm sorry, Keith, she's gone. Severe hemmorhage. The paramedics concluded she passed away a few minutes after the accident. The memorial service will be at Saint Joseph. Let me take you..."
7:14 AM. Friday. She marched toward a bicycle chained to the mailbox post and with quivering, blue fingers unfastened the lock with the solitary key hanging from her sterling chain necklace. The rain was pouring incessantly, licking the make-up off her face,her eyes appeared as if it were bleeding caramel. She rode the bicycle and pedaled hard, bracing through the heavy downpour. In the same breath, without warning a vehicle shot out into the street. The engine screeches to a halt. Shattered glasses flew. A car alarm went off. And behind the cloudy haze, a body laid twisted agonizingly by the pavement. The road was the color of blood.
He was sitting in the corner booth in some lonely cafe, fingering his half eaten bagel. The clock on the wall read half past eight. Out of overwhelming boredom, he rose from his seat, gathered his books and left a message at the counter. He put on his coat and under the rain, walked back to the dormitory.
9:12 AM. She found him curled up on the couch, his right foot bobbing up and down to the beat of a Bob Marley song. "I left Coffee World. 'Can't stand the cold.", he mumbled under his breath. "I hate the rain." was all she responded and crouched by the fire. Her hair was still dripping. "Shiva," he said, "I'll meet you after History class." and gathered his coat resting atop a battered console chair. "6:30", she whispered. "6:30.", he echoed.
6:34 PM. He was stranded in Luxemburg Hall, the water flooded the quadrangle situated infront of the building by 3 feet. He was beginning to grow frustrated and contemplated an excuse. The sound of footsteps padding down the hallway distracted him from his vacation. He turned around. "Professor Rausch." he greeted. "Keith, how are you doing." the man responded. "Have you heard of what happened...this morning...to your friend, Shiva." The boy returned a bewildered stare.
"She met an accident at Francis Street..."
"You are mistaken Professor Rausch..."
"I'm sorry, Keith, she's gone. Severe hemmorhage. The paramedics concluded she passed away a few minutes after the accident. The memorial service will be at Saint Joseph. Let me take you..."
posted by Louella at 12:26 AM
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