'This is fantastic!' Bills father stated proudly, admiring the work of papers in his hand, thick and sturdy as Bills writing did often waver a bit off the rails as one might say 'You could become a good writer, maybe even great' Bill flushed red at the unexpected compliment and as he looked up he saw the bright baby blue eyes looking back down at him, full of excitement and wonder and...what was it?....Admiration? Yes....that must be it. The same look that his father would give after a hard day of work, pant legs either muddy, wet, dusty or sometimes even all three at once as he would stand there, wipe his hand over a sweaty brow as he leaned on some tool, looking at the work he had done proudly, a twinkle in his eye as he grinned, maybe on some days he would sit down, have a tall glass of cool lemonade and peer over, his face full of contempt but the look was always the same, the look of satisfaction and quite possibly a small bit of wonder.
He had never been like most boys, fighting or kicking in the mud, playing games till dusk as their parents would call them in for supper as they'd feast on stew or some other hearty meal. No, he was not like most boys at all. He was skinny, bony, lanky seemed the right way to put it, no muscle on his body in sight. His legs were twigs and so where his arms. His skin was also what seemed to be a pale white, not tan and dirty like the other boys that would bask in the sun and bake themselves on the hot road, shouting as cars drove pass, but not a sickly white either, like the ill people up in the health center. No, it was the skin of a boy who had almost never set foot in the sun, never once had a speck of dirt on him that he hadn't neatly wiped off or removed with a clean napkin. His eyes were also sunken, bags hanging under them making his face seem hollow from the lack of sleep he got from staying up and reading, most nights just ending up getting knocked out cold in the middle of a writing session or in the middle of a good chapter in a book he had been interested in.
In short, Bill was not like most.
His hair was greasy and coal black, sticking up in places and flat down in others and sometimes this mess of hair would end up in his food or drinks, sometimes in the sheets where he could feel it wriggle between his toes. It was wild, loose, and he decided he wanted to keep it that way.
And while his father read the stack of pages in front of him, eyeing them carefully, he was suddenly aware of how much it got into his face and in his mouth, the way it did whatever it wanted. He was suddenly aware of the hesitant and urgent tap of his fingers needing to do something. Anything but sit here and wait patiently and his attention snapped right back up at his fathers kind blue orbs as they stared intently into his own.
'Yes, a damn fine writer if you felt like it' he chuckled softly and Bill furrowed my bow, wondering what on earth was so funny about the whole ordeal but decided to keep his mouth shut 'You've got a talent, I'll tell you that much, just be wise on how you use it' he said simply after Bills silence had justified he wasn't going to awnser anytime soon and a thought struck Bill so suddenly leaving him with a stupid grin plastered on his face. He was a damn fine writer....or at least, with a little practice he soon would be. He had a knack for writing horror, not that cheap jumps scare horror with blood and everything ,that, anybody could do, but physiological horror, something that most authors find it very difficult to achieve, and Bill wasn't one to boast, but, he thought, if he had my his own way, why, right now he could be publishing books left and right! The idea seemed so absurd that his grin widened a little at the sheer idea of it all and he could hear his dad laugh loudly, as he did, and pat him on the back hard and firm 'Don't get a swelled head boy, now come on, you need to get some shut eye, remember, we're going to that pumpkin pie competition' I try to hide my grin as much as possible and clear my throat 'Yeah, you think they'll have sweet pies as well?' He grins, the twinkle in his eye, looking amused 'Of course! You know what, I bet we go there and there'll be at least twenty of those sweet pumpkin pies up there!'
