I'm back from Camp Hell... now I'm depressed because I want to go back. All the men there fell deeply in love with me, and bought me eveeeeerything, and one wrote me a song. Everyone was really nice and smart, and I got a lot better at violin. Now I'm depressed. I want to go back. (Did I already mention that?)
Now I'm trying to get ready to go back to school on Wednesday. It's going to be a pain in the ass... I don't want to get up early! I do want to see everyone again, though. Hmm... what to do? Maybe I should finish my homework.
Bleeeeeehhhh.... why is Edith Wharton such a depressing writer? I can write a novel too! I will call it... "Evan Prome". Here it is. It is very short and will be concluded within these pages (ish).
Once upon a time, there was a depressed young man named Evan Prome. He was depressed because he was taciturn and awkward and could get no ladies like his friend Alcee Arobin could. So he decided to move out to a bleak midwestern town in the depths of New England, because he felt that that was the only place that there would be desperate enough women to take to him. He was probably right in theory, but he approach was sadly lacking. For when he got there, he proceeded to curl up in a drafty garret all day and write extremely bad poetry, talking to no one and never going out except in the dead of night to steal some food from his unfortunate neighbors. This went on for several weeks, until one day he encountered a beautiful young woman while stealing the Caucus family's eggs. Being the bashful and awkward man that he was, he decided to creepily hide behind a tree and see what she would do. As he watched, his jaw dropped in astonishment, because what she did was very remarkable. She was walking around and stealing eggs too! Her technique was flawless. She tiptoed around the yard like a ninja and took every good egg there was to be had. In a few minutes, she was gone. Evan was struck with the first amorous impulse he had ever felt in his life, and in two seconds flat, he had leapt over the wall to go after her. He had hard work keeping up with her, because she was an extremely fast runner and his bike had only two speeds, but he managed to keep her in sight until she pulled up into the Mozart family's yard. Then he lost her, but only for five minutes, when she returned bearing all of their groceries and their AK47 too. She then skipped over to the neighbor's yard, hotwired their pickup truck, and drove away. Evan was entranced! He spent the rest of the week writing poems about her and stalking the Mozart's yard in case she should show up again. Finally, his patience was rewarded! She danced up one night at two in the morning, just as he was about to leave. "You!" he gasped out, trying vainly to catch her by the hand. "Um. What the hell?" she asked calmly, extricating herself and kicking him in the nuts. "you-you..." he moaned, writhing around on the ground in pain. "Will you marry me?" A look of interest crossed the girl's face. "What?" "Marry me!" he repeated, gaining insistence, even as his ballsack began to bleed. "Please! I've never seen anyone who can steal food so well!" The girl looked at him. A rosy flush dawned on her golden cheek, as the iron dark of the midwinter night began to break into sparkling morning. She opened her ruby red lips to speak to him in her mellifluous voice, and already Evan began to hear the chorus of a thousand angels singing in harmony and a thousand bells chiming in silvery harmony, as this goddess of beauty and starshine readied herself to speak the wonderful words that would make her his. Then the door opened to the Mozart's house, and a man stormed out. "WHAT'S ALL THIS???" he shouted angrily, brandishing a rifle. The girl drew her gun, which happened, coincidentally, to be Mr. Mozart's old one. "I'll take you on," she said coolly. "The HELL you will! And is that my old gun???!!!" screamed Mr. Mozart, coming closer. "DON'T HURT HER!!" cried Evan, throwing himself in the way. "And, hey, it's YOU!" realized the irate man. "You're the one what been stalking my family and stealing our food! Why, I oughtta shoot you!" but instead, he shot the girl. She fell to the ground in a streak of golden and scarlet, like lightning over a dark desert valley, like the shooting star that no one sees before it loses its glory in oblivion. As she lay on the ground, her blood pooling around her like the petals of some rich exotic blossom, Evan felt his life flash before his very eyes. What now was there to live for? He looked at Mr. Mozart in his deep, cold, eyes, and said in a voice like icy stone, "You have destroyed me." Then he wandered off forever into the night of blackest despair, never to see the light of day again; his sun had set forever.
The end.
Wow, I'm good. I especially love all the opulent and excessive adjectives. Ooh, opulent. Should have used that one. Her hair of rich and opulent gold and her eyes of sapphire lightning and all of that. Man, I should have been a writer. What am I even doing with my life? Anyway, I can totally write meaningful fiction. Easy as pie. Obviously, their thievery is a symbol of how humans rob nature of its resources and decries the pitiful human condition. Any fool could see that, I mean really!
Maybe I should write my actual homework now. This was fun, but... the homework is due on Wednesday, and this, no matter how satirical, is not. Sadly. So, my friend, I will see you anon.
