kikumbob
20-10-04, 11:12 AM
This is my first story written in my free time. I would really like some critical feedback on this if im to make it any better. So, hopefully, enjoy!
TIMS MARVELOUSLY UNMAGICAL BED
There are only three words to describe a day like this day: It was hot. Immensely hot. It was the kind of heat you could fry eggs on the roof of your car with, the kind of heat that made the trees sweat with sap and the small insects that would normally wiz around the garden droop under thirstily under the shades or head for cool water only to discover that they can’t swim. It was the kind of day that thieves and criminals loved. Everybody’s doors and windows would be open to try and let in the non-existent breeze but only succeeding in letting more heat into the house. The gyms were deserted, the park was too hot to play on, and the beach was, surprisingly, deserted. Beds R Us, however, was not deserted and a few customers, such as the ones who desperately needed a bed, were in town on this swelteringly hot day looking from bed to bed deciding on what colour, design, wood texture etc of bed to have, finding it was perfect for them, looking at the cost, swearing, then walking off to find a cheaper one.
Tim was amongst these people. The boy was scruffy looking, with scruffy hair that suggested his pet shiatsu was living on his head. His skin had a thick layer of sun cream on that glistened in the hot sun protecting him from not only the suns rays but also possibly anything else that was prepared to hit him. A mum this protective should clearly not have been let out of the mental hospital in the first place, yet here she was holding the 13-year-old boy’s hand as if it were glued on. Tim’s father was shouting like a maniac at the sales woman who refused to lower the price of the bed that was considered perfect for Tim. Tim clearly didn’t. Nor did he want his hand stuck to his mother’s although recent attempts to explain to his her that he really wasn’t a 5 year old but an early teenager only resulted in his mum calmly arguing back that he was starting a teenaged life which could be dangerous or that he just didn’t understand, but worst of all resulted in his hand being slightly crushed. He decided he’d have to live with it until she understood or be left with a broken hand, which was rather ironic, but still, he had to admit, worse than this.
Tim gazed around the room at the hundreds of beds that stretched out before him through his rather large glasses. These were another thing he hated. He had wanted contact lenses but his mother had refused and explained to him something about eye disease which he didn’t quite understand as contact lenses were supposed to help his eyes.
He looked around for the bed that looked most like his old one. He was very attached to it and also very sorry about what he had done to it. His 13th birthday had been yesterday. It was a very normal one, with his normal friends who nought him normal presents which were usually pound notes that got lost in the back pocket of his jeans, put through the wash a couple of times, ironed over and by the time he found them they were completely fluffy, faded and folded into a small piece of paper that wasn’t recognisable. Although one of his normal presents was a multi tool set. He’d always wanted one of them and had played with it for ages that day in his dad’s workshop and in his room after his dad’s workshop collapsed. Tim couldn’t resist unscrewing the screws in his bed, got rather distracted and forgot to screw them back in. He had also done this to his desk that only still stands now because of the large amounts of chewing gum he had stuck up in the joints under his desk. It wasn’t surprising that when he woke up the next morning he awoke in the middle of a large pile of splintered wood and bedclothes.
Tim caught sight of one particular bed that stood out from the rest. It was at the back and quite apart from the other beds that were all carefully measured out to be exactly the same distance from each other.
“Mum” he said, “can I go look at that bed up there?”
“This ones good enough.” his mother argued
“Yes but I don’t particularly….that is to say-“
“What??”
“Err, nothing I’d just rather wanted to look at the other beds while dad…settles things.”
“I’m coming with you then.”
“Aw mum!”
“OK we’ll stay here then.”
“Oh fine.”
Together they walked past the rows of beds until they got to the back of the shop that was more dusty and grim looking as the front.
The bed looked stunning. It was made out of the smoothest wood with rounded edges and the bedpost was in the most unique design. Further more the price had been lowered by 50%. This wasn’t the stunning about the price, all the beds had the “half price” sticker on the label but this one was lowered. Tim’s father came over to them.
“Its no use” he sighed, “she went on about how lovely the bed was and how it deserved the pr… Hey this ones really cheap!”
“Mark, I don’t know if this is safe enough though-“
“MUM!”
“Tim, I don’t want the same accident to happen again! Beds are not safe!”
“Who says?”
“I do!”
“Do you have any experience in beds?”
“Tim! Don’t answer back!”
There was a long pause. Practically everyone, Which was at the last count 5, were watching them if this was the best entertainment they had in days.
“Go to your room!”
Another pause while the audience and Tim tried to decipher this strange order. They gave up.
“but..” Tim tried to say but only got this far.
“NOW!”
The rather confused Tim started to walk over to a random bed and, with the look of someone who had suddenly found themselves in the middle of a large audience with there trousers pulled down, sat on the bed. This seemed to satisfy his mum who turned back to talk to his father.
“Sally-“
“Its not safe!”
“How would you-“ Sally interrupted him, but was then interrupted by Mark saying quick enough to prevent any more interruptions, “Its chesp so we’re buying it!” and stalked off to find the sales woman again who, when saw Tim’s dad walk up to her started to quiver.
“Exuse-“
“OK FINE! Have it at a low price just don’t-”
“We don’t want that bed anymore, we would like the bed up at the back”
The sales woman relaxed a little, looked at the bed, stared at it, frowned, and finally called for her employer. The man was, as most employers are, rather fat and looked angry at being disturbed at this time, or indeed heat of the day.
“Sorry to disturb you sir but I cant remember the bed up there being there before”
The fat man frowned at the position of the bed being accused, fowned, patted his pockets, took the glasses down from his head and slid them on, frowned again and finally called for the manager. The manager came out of the same office behind the desk also rather annoyed at the disturbence. The employer explained about the bed and the manager, the only one with common sense, went to take a long look at the bed.
“you say you want this bed” enquired the manager, in a business like tone.
“yes” replied Tim’s dad.
“Even though” rallied the manager in now what sounded like a confused tone, “The company that make these beds were run out of business more than 30 years ago.”
There was a long silence. By this time the audience had been so interested that they had gathered round the bed in question.
The pause got to the point where many people seemed a bit emabarrased for no reason and Tim felt he had to say something Which resulted in a random comment, “I quite like it.”
This resulted in such a long silence that the manager finally gave in on reality. “OK OK, you can have it” For some reason only explaind by the procedures in which audiences do things, there was a small cheer from the 5 people who felt stupid and decided to walk away and carry on swearing at large prices.
TIMS MARVELOUSLY UNMAGICAL BED
There are only three words to describe a day like this day: It was hot. Immensely hot. It was the kind of heat you could fry eggs on the roof of your car with, the kind of heat that made the trees sweat with sap and the small insects that would normally wiz around the garden droop under thirstily under the shades or head for cool water only to discover that they can’t swim. It was the kind of day that thieves and criminals loved. Everybody’s doors and windows would be open to try and let in the non-existent breeze but only succeeding in letting more heat into the house. The gyms were deserted, the park was too hot to play on, and the beach was, surprisingly, deserted. Beds R Us, however, was not deserted and a few customers, such as the ones who desperately needed a bed, were in town on this swelteringly hot day looking from bed to bed deciding on what colour, design, wood texture etc of bed to have, finding it was perfect for them, looking at the cost, swearing, then walking off to find a cheaper one.
Tim was amongst these people. The boy was scruffy looking, with scruffy hair that suggested his pet shiatsu was living on his head. His skin had a thick layer of sun cream on that glistened in the hot sun protecting him from not only the suns rays but also possibly anything else that was prepared to hit him. A mum this protective should clearly not have been let out of the mental hospital in the first place, yet here she was holding the 13-year-old boy’s hand as if it were glued on. Tim’s father was shouting like a maniac at the sales woman who refused to lower the price of the bed that was considered perfect for Tim. Tim clearly didn’t. Nor did he want his hand stuck to his mother’s although recent attempts to explain to his her that he really wasn’t a 5 year old but an early teenager only resulted in his mum calmly arguing back that he was starting a teenaged life which could be dangerous or that he just didn’t understand, but worst of all resulted in his hand being slightly crushed. He decided he’d have to live with it until she understood or be left with a broken hand, which was rather ironic, but still, he had to admit, worse than this.
Tim gazed around the room at the hundreds of beds that stretched out before him through his rather large glasses. These were another thing he hated. He had wanted contact lenses but his mother had refused and explained to him something about eye disease which he didn’t quite understand as contact lenses were supposed to help his eyes.
He looked around for the bed that looked most like his old one. He was very attached to it and also very sorry about what he had done to it. His 13th birthday had been yesterday. It was a very normal one, with his normal friends who nought him normal presents which were usually pound notes that got lost in the back pocket of his jeans, put through the wash a couple of times, ironed over and by the time he found them they were completely fluffy, faded and folded into a small piece of paper that wasn’t recognisable. Although one of his normal presents was a multi tool set. He’d always wanted one of them and had played with it for ages that day in his dad’s workshop and in his room after his dad’s workshop collapsed. Tim couldn’t resist unscrewing the screws in his bed, got rather distracted and forgot to screw them back in. He had also done this to his desk that only still stands now because of the large amounts of chewing gum he had stuck up in the joints under his desk. It wasn’t surprising that when he woke up the next morning he awoke in the middle of a large pile of splintered wood and bedclothes.
Tim caught sight of one particular bed that stood out from the rest. It was at the back and quite apart from the other beds that were all carefully measured out to be exactly the same distance from each other.
“Mum” he said, “can I go look at that bed up there?”
“This ones good enough.” his mother argued
“Yes but I don’t particularly….that is to say-“
“What??”
“Err, nothing I’d just rather wanted to look at the other beds while dad…settles things.”
“I’m coming with you then.”
“Aw mum!”
“OK we’ll stay here then.”
“Oh fine.”
Together they walked past the rows of beds until they got to the back of the shop that was more dusty and grim looking as the front.
The bed looked stunning. It was made out of the smoothest wood with rounded edges and the bedpost was in the most unique design. Further more the price had been lowered by 50%. This wasn’t the stunning about the price, all the beds had the “half price” sticker on the label but this one was lowered. Tim’s father came over to them.
“Its no use” he sighed, “she went on about how lovely the bed was and how it deserved the pr… Hey this ones really cheap!”
“Mark, I don’t know if this is safe enough though-“
“MUM!”
“Tim, I don’t want the same accident to happen again! Beds are not safe!”
“Who says?”
“I do!”
“Do you have any experience in beds?”
“Tim! Don’t answer back!”
There was a long pause. Practically everyone, Which was at the last count 5, were watching them if this was the best entertainment they had in days.
“Go to your room!”
Another pause while the audience and Tim tried to decipher this strange order. They gave up.
“but..” Tim tried to say but only got this far.
“NOW!”
The rather confused Tim started to walk over to a random bed and, with the look of someone who had suddenly found themselves in the middle of a large audience with there trousers pulled down, sat on the bed. This seemed to satisfy his mum who turned back to talk to his father.
“Sally-“
“Its not safe!”
“How would you-“ Sally interrupted him, but was then interrupted by Mark saying quick enough to prevent any more interruptions, “Its chesp so we’re buying it!” and stalked off to find the sales woman again who, when saw Tim’s dad walk up to her started to quiver.
“Exuse-“
“OK FINE! Have it at a low price just don’t-”
“We don’t want that bed anymore, we would like the bed up at the back”
The sales woman relaxed a little, looked at the bed, stared at it, frowned, and finally called for her employer. The man was, as most employers are, rather fat and looked angry at being disturbed at this time, or indeed heat of the day.
“Sorry to disturb you sir but I cant remember the bed up there being there before”
The fat man frowned at the position of the bed being accused, fowned, patted his pockets, took the glasses down from his head and slid them on, frowned again and finally called for the manager. The manager came out of the same office behind the desk also rather annoyed at the disturbence. The employer explained about the bed and the manager, the only one with common sense, went to take a long look at the bed.
“you say you want this bed” enquired the manager, in a business like tone.
“yes” replied Tim’s dad.
“Even though” rallied the manager in now what sounded like a confused tone, “The company that make these beds were run out of business more than 30 years ago.”
There was a long silence. By this time the audience had been so interested that they had gathered round the bed in question.
The pause got to the point where many people seemed a bit emabarrased for no reason and Tim felt he had to say something Which resulted in a random comment, “I quite like it.”
This resulted in such a long silence that the manager finally gave in on reality. “OK OK, you can have it” For some reason only explaind by the procedures in which audiences do things, there was a small cheer from the 5 people who felt stupid and decided to walk away and carry on swearing at large prices.