- The Writers Voice -

[dkneip]

"Ye Olde Pastry Shoppe"

Yet again, at precisely 6:54am, the sun performed a brilliant coup overthrowing the darkness and filling the sky brightly with the promise of a glorious day. Glenn watched, as he did almost every morning, from the rooftop of his bakery shoppe - always accompanied by a hot mug of liquid decaf-heaven and a barberry dumpling in either hand. But this morning, he sat pensively alone.
by dkneip

In six minutes the door of his shop would be opened and one by one the early risers would appear. A brioche here, a bagel there, and sometimes a French bread to tuck in the armpit of an elderly pensioner who couldn't afford a crescent roll or a danish. Glenn watched the sun rise triumphantly above the roof of the old hotel across the street and wondered what their reaction would be when they found the shop locked for the first time in their memory.
by Harry

He wasn't sure what he wanted to do with his life but he knew he was tired of running his bakery shop. He had finally decided to retire, despite the enticing smell of bread and pastries baking every day, his rapport with the customers, it wasn't enough for him anymore. The question was, what would be enough for him now? Perhaps he would travel somewhere, yes, that was it. 'I've always wanted to go Italy.' the old man thought with a smile.
by Heidi Yang

If only there weren't so many obstacles to his moving. In his youth, he did travel to many beautiful places; the isles of Kokorock among his favorites. The native women there adored him and he actually pantomimed his way into becoming chief of the Nootie-Dah Village. That exercise was short lived. He was over-qualified for the job. In all, his mind was stalwart then. What he pursued seemingly came to be. But a wanderer's legs are subject to the same misfortunes as any others.
by dkneip

Glen listened to the heavy crunch of shell in the alleyway behind his shop, and realized his son-in-law had finally arrived. In a few seconds, Glen thought, the boy would unlock the back door, walk toward the front of the shop, flip the "Closed" sign over, and open for business. Glen sat his mug down, and slowly pushed the barberry dumpling aside.
by Linda

His burdened gait shook the rooftop of the old building as he crossed over to the metal staircase leading down to the alley. He caught William's eyes down at the backdoor, though something was missing in the look. "Hey, Pop." smiled William, "I picked up some marmalade from Canter's Place."
by dkneip


"It's the apricot kind, you know the kind we use on the Linzer tarts ... " There was no response from his father, just a blank stare and a vacant smile. "You okay, Pop? What are you doin' up there on the roof anyway? Why aren't you in the store?"

"I like it up here," Glenn said. "A great place to be alone with your memories. It's like bein' on top of the world."

William was convinced his father had lost it. "Don't come down, Pop, I'll come up and get you ... Pop, don't lean over the edge like that ... Pop ... come on Pop, you're makin' me nervous."
by Harry

Glenn heard the tremor in the boy’s voice, and stepped back from the edge. He watched as Will put the marmalade on the hood of his old car, and started climbing the iron stairs. He looks like Roland, Glenn thought, turning back to the opposite side of the building again. It ain't right—that boy will stay here waiting on us until he’s too old for law school. Humph! Before you know it, he’ll be too old for anything, and we'll have ourselves to blame. Glenn thought about his brother Roland. What happened to us, he wondered? We came here full of piss and vinegar—couldn’t wait to make our mark on the world. Bought these old buildings for next to nothing, and now look at us! I’m a fat old man, and Roland sits around all day pining for Catherine. It just ain't right, he said to himself.
by Linda

William could not put his finger on it but the look in his father’s eyes seemed to tell the story of a man wrapped in self condemnation and regret, perhaps for the direction his life took, as though he believed his life had been wasted and a longing for times gone by. William did not like this new look it troubled him greatly. His dad had always been there for him and now it was time for William to be there for his dad, if only he knew what to do.
by Clive

Dad needs a change of scenery, a trip, a journey to a foreign land. Pop's not young. He's seventy-five years old and still rides his bike to work and back home every day, ten miles each way, hot or cold.

William decided he would visit Muriel's travel agency accross the street at lunch time.
by DaveR

"We'll keep the doors locked today, Pop," said William kindly, helping Glenn down the last of the rickety steps. A soft glaze came over the old man's face and an unspoken understanding crossed between the two.

"I gotta get some change, Willie. No more pastries. I tell ya, boy. I was sittin' up there, just like I do every morning - yeah the climb is hell on these tired bones, but the view Willie.. the view.. like something remindin' me of my days up at Cape Baseland."

"I know," William gently answered. And he did know. For years he'd been an audience to the stories and adventures, traced routes on ancient maps, some held together completely with tape. He could see now, for the first time, the heart of the young traveller struggling to break free.

"And I had a pastry melting in my hand up there.. You know, Willie.. those things ruined my life."
by dkneip

“Pop, you’re life’s not ruined,” William said soberly, “but, you need rest. Let’s drive up-state for a few days, and we’ll talk about it later.”

Glenn felt light-headed, confused, with an overwhelming sense of something he couldn't explain. The last thing he remembered as the floor began to move beneath his feet was the shock and fear in his son’s deep blue eyes.
by Linda

Glenn knew exactly what it was. Three years ago almost to the day they had a 5.6, and he knew for a fact the buildings in this part of town wouldn't take another like that. "Where'd ya leave y'car, William?"

"In the back, Pop." William's frightened eyes darted wildly from his father to the front wall of the bakery. "I never been in an earthquake, Pop ... is this an earthquake?"

"Damn right, son. We've gotta get outta here and out in the open!"
by Harry

The old man's intuition's were normally dead on. But while the shaking stopped suddenly, the panic continued and the two men hurried through the alley. Then the strangest thing happened - a SECOND shake came, this one more forcefull than the first, and it tapered off! And then the ground rattled a third time!

"My bad," claimed Glenn, pulling from his experience on the island of Pothigogo, where he spent an entire season living with the native bushmen and adhering to their wisdom. "That's no earthquake. That's a dragon!"

And as they stepped out into the open, the giant beast, heaving and gnarling, eyes burning red, pounded down the street toward them.
by dkneip
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the coffee made me do it.

[patrick fynes]

'Glenn...Glenn....I am COME!!' snarled the dragon, rolling it's immense tongue over the fetid peaks of its' ancient teeth. Scarlet flames licked heavily around the dark wells of the beast's nostrils, eyes burning and breath coming in ragged waves.
'Revenge.. is mine alone. Fetch your weapon and come down unto me!'
'What is done, is done and I am ready for you, old friend' whispered Glenn, almost to himself. The slayings that had haunted his memory for so many long years were, at last, brought back to him. He knew that not all of the great beasts had been destroyed. He knew this day would come, but was he too old to face his duty, now that he had succumbed to the ravages of time?
'Get...my..lance, son...'

[patrick fynes]

'Glenn...Glenn....I am COME!!' snarled the dragon, rolling it's immense tongue over the fetid peaks of its' ancient teeth. Scarlet flames licked heavily around the dark wells of the beast's nostrils, eyes burning and breath coming in ragged waves.
'Revenge.. is mine alone. Fetch your weapon and come down unto me!'
'What is done, is done and I am ready for you, old friend' whispered Glenn, almost to himself. The slayings that had haunted his memory for so many long years were, at last, brought back to him. He knew that not all of the great beasts had been destroyed. He knew this day would come, but was he too old to face his duty, now that he had succumbed to the ravages of time?
'Get...my..lance, son...'

[Paul Grimsley]

His son's chest swelled with pride - he'd never seen his dad look so magnificent. With the lance in hand he returned to his father, his face full of admiration ... but the board was not what he had been expecting. Glenn smiled because it often got people that way. No one hardly ever noticed the hinge, and no one expected the drop down legs. He had pressed the button and the card table had unfolded.
'Ah hah!' cried the dragon 'You still have the gaming board?'
'Yes,' said Glenn, winking slyly at his son 'Do you have your checkers board?'
The dragon wondered why dragons were always expected to let the side down when it came to things like this: he produced the board.
'Let the game commence ...'
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The word is a prism through which the two beams shot from heart and head are refracted into the colours of the Universe.