Tuesday, June 25, 2013
Makerita's Prospective Writing
Tom was quite the hiker, but even for him climbing this very cliff was hard. He had spent days, and nights diligently searching for a particular martial art school he had been longing to attend. And finally as he had reached the top of a lofty peak, his search had come to an end. The martial arts school was in sight.
He dragged himself towards the school determined to reach it. When he finally reached the door he simply knocked. Will they open the door? Will I get rejected? Should I turn back now? He anxiously waited for someone to answer the door. Then the door started to creak open, and a tall figured man appeared through the entrance. Tom didn’t know what to do, so he stood there and bowed down in a respected matter. But the man stood with a straight face and pointed directly to his right. Then slammed the door.
Tom felt down. And felt as if he wasn’t ready to enter his dojo. And that he had to prove worthy enough to enter. So he sat down and humbled himself. Then decided to meditate. He kept this going over night, and just half way through the next day. The silence broke when the same man opened the door and stood in the middle of the entrance once again. Tom raised his head and glared at the mans eyes, hoping he’ll let him in this time. But the same actions occurred within the 2 seconds. He raised his arm to his right, and as soon as that happened Tom soul was once again crushed.
With a heavy heart Tom stood up and dragged himself towards the stairs leading away from the Dojo. Then with one last thought his emotions changed. He clenched his fists, he darkened his eyes, and turned sharply around. He staunchly walked to the door and kicked it right open. When the man appeared once again through the doorway he made a swaying motion displaying as if he would want to be challenging the tall man to a fight.
Then again he pointed to his right. Tom glared to where he was pointing and read a sign. It had said ‘Please use the side door’. Tom looked down, and made a facial of sorrowfulness. He wasn’t listening to the man the whole time, or in other words looking to where the man was pointing. And finally when he did, he had already done something wrong. Too late.