Life on the Block

Dedicated to those of us who have yet to return to unfinished stories and their characters.

CRASH.

 

The four figures go sprawling across the threshold of the narrow doorway. There is a brief moment of fuss as the jumble of arms and legs attempt to untangle themselves from each other and then they begin to rise. One by one, they straighten their clothes and take a moment to survey their surroundings.

 

The place is massive.

 

Massive and plain. They seem to be in some sort of lobby area, drawn out with expansive grey walls that curve into passageways on either side of the end of the room. The room is dotted with neat furniture - tastefully simple décor gives it a sophisticated feel.

 

“Where do you suppose we are?” the first of the figures speaks, her hazel eyes taking in every inch of the place. She entwines her golden locks between her fingers thoughtfully while she tries to grasp a sense of bearing.

 

“I cannot be certain,” another says. He takes a step forward and gives the place a sweeping glance before turning to the others, “but it is rather odd.”

The other two are silent. A tall young woman with a solemn expression. A short boyish-looking male who seems to have borrowed his companion’s frown.

There is a moment of silence while the group begins to closer examine the area before them - running hands along the smooth surfaces of the tables and sofas; curiously prodding the vending machine, trying out the pool sticks for size.

 

“Teyl,” the tall girl pauses and then begins motioning to the first female. Her eyes are alight with sudden piqued interest. “You must come see---,”

But she is interrupted by the sound of approaching footsteps down the hall. All four stand silent yet again, gazing warily at the entranceway, poised for flight in the event of some nefarious happening.

Instead they are greeted by the sight of a rather attractive looking young man, who just barely manages to yawn and run a hand through his tousled dark hair before noticing the scene before him. He stops and raises a brow, curiously regarding the four visitors for a few seconds. And then he begins to laugh.

 

Momentarily thrown by his reaction, their defensive stances slacken as confusion overtakes caution.The young man’s chuckles subside, but he wears a broad grin as he says, “Four this time, wow she’s really picking up the pace…,”

“Excuse me?” shorty speaks.

The young man begins chuckling to himself again, shaking his head as he approaches and begins shaking each of their hands, “Patric M, queue 1. Welcome fr----,”

But his hand is left to fall at the last shake. The tall girl gazes at him silently, her hands very still at her side.He holds her gaze for a moment and then the traces of a smile play at his lips as he unconcernedly slips his hand into his pocket and turns to face the others.

“Friends. Welcome, friends. Let’s just get right to it - what are your names? Hopefully you’ve at least gotten to that point,” he looks up expectedly at the person nearest him.

 Goldie, already beginning to recover from the oddness of the entire situation, readily answers, “I am Teyl.”

Patric nods then looks across at the young man next to her.

“I have not yet been named,” he says, the cadence of his voice steady and purposeful.

“Neither have I,” shorty pipes up next to him.

“Soon,” Patric says encouragingly and then he looks to the tall girl for her reply, but finds none forthcoming.

“Lua,” voices Teyl on her friend’s behalf.

“Thank you,” Patric addresses Teyl, his gaze still directed towards Lua. He smiles and nods, “Strong, silent type I’m guessing? Word of advice. Stay clear of Nigel Greene. For him, you’d be like Christmas come early.”

And then he walks to a fridge in the corner of the room, opens it, and begins tossing water bottles behind him without a single backward glance.

They catch the bottles easily, their agility evident, reflexes almost feline.

“Impressive,” Patric speaks into the depths of the fridge, his back still turned.

Teyl’s forehead creases slightly as she asks, “How can you have se--,”

“Oh, you’re soon to find all that out anyway,” Patric replies, walking towards the sitting area of the room, beckoning for them to join him on the opposite couch. Surprisingly, they all comply. Even Lua.

“Now,” Patric says, unscrewing the top of his water bottle and taking a brief sip, “you may as well get accustomed to being at home here. Trust me, it’s going to be a while.”

“A while?” one of the unnamed inquires.

“Yep,” replies Patric, gesturing around him, “see this building? All this is the House of Limbo.”

“House of Limbo…,” the other unnamed echoes quietly, as if tasting the name.

“But where is this,” Teyl asks Patric directly, “what is our location here?”

Patric shakes his head and when he next speaks, there is almost a note of regret as he says, “smack dab in the middle.”

“The middle of what?”

Patric shakes his head again, “In the worst part of town you can imagine. Here, look outside that window.” He points the expansive glass lining the side of a wall, from which a rather grey and lonely street can be seen.

“That,” he says as all four take in the scene before them, “is host to the wonderful House of Limbo you now find yourselves in.

They turn to look at him again and he props up his feet on a table as he cheerfully delivers his next response:

“Welcome, friends…to Writer’s Block.”

Author's Note

I was fretting the other day about the mass number of stories I'd started that I needed to continue,(and how my characters must all hate me by now) when I was struck by this sudden little idea. A parody, of sorts. Featuring Patric from my last novel, Teyl and her friends from my newest idea - Fortune Day, and mention of Nigel from Nyrien and the Secret Realm. How life must be for them and the others, constantly stuck in limbo while I tackle school and everything else.

Thoughts?

Reviews

[Daring Darling Didi]

Ahaha! I loved this. I was reading it carefully and wondering where the story was going, if it was only a story or a chapter of some sort - the ending is PERFECT. I know that feel completely. When you have so many ideas and stories but you just can't write, or you're too busy to write, it's so frustrating, especially for the characters who must be thinking "why hasn't this guy named me yet? I'm just Shortie, eh?" Very nice description of being stuck ^^

[MOON]

Lost in an unfinished book, love where you went with this.

[selkietales]

Ahahaha this is great! This is so true! Poor things :)

[Priya]

Haha. Very creative, very brilliant. I can see how you feel. I've left far too many of my characters in limbo too! I do imagine it is a frightful place. I have to say, you are one of the most original writers around :)

[Kate W]

In limbo? I really thought these guys had died in some tragic accident and were in transition to another world. Brilliant - I loved it!

[Carmen-Rose McGill]

haha, this was great! I love all your characters. Ireminds me a little of the jumble of characters without plots and plots without characters in my own head. I was not expecting the ending at all. I think that all writers can relate to having all these ideas and not being able to write about them. Good write, R.G.!

[Wendy Seames Garner]

Oh my gosh, you really had me going! I thought they were aliens, but then Patric started acting so weird. Great story R. G.!

"There is a moment of silence while the group begins to closer examine the area before them" You might want to try: There is a moment of silence while the group begins a closer examination of the area before them -

[E. Ryan Miller]

First of all... love your characters. And I agree... the ending was completely and totally perfect. Really didn't expect it at all. Great stuff.