Do Not Click Do Not Click Do Not Click
School Stuff
Fun Stuff
Life of Brian
Weaving a Story

By Amadea

Hidden in the shadows behind the old skip a man sat hunched over his work. His grubby fingers skipped nimbly weaving a fine cloth. Perhaps he was homeless no one really knew for sure, all they knew was that every day he would sit weaving swiftly and smoothly.
“I dare you to…”Vicky began a wicked grin spreading across her already smug face “ask the weaver man to teach you how to weave and if he agrees you must take up his offer for a whole month.” I groaned shaking my head desperately searching for a way out. “No I can’t I really can’t” I blurted without thinking immediately knowing that those simple words had just sealed my fate.
“Bock bock bock CHICKEN” the girls around me chorused forming an insane chant. Meanwhile Vicky’s grin just grew wider and wider as she formulated my punishment. “Well if you don’t complete the dare you owe us ten dollars each.” With that I knew that I had no choice but to complete my dare especially on my current allowance of zero dollars and zero cents a year.
So that very afternoon all eleven of us all clean and neatly manicured made our way down a filthy alley to the old skip. I was tingling with fear and anticipation worried that perhaps just this once the weaver man would agree to take on a pupil.
All to soon we reached the skip. The weaver man looked at us expectantly. I took a step forward. “Um excuse me Mr” What was his name? I asked myself but finding no answer I was forced to continue. “Ah could you teach me to weave um please?”
Suddenly the weaver man’s eyes were on me. His dark grey eyes were staring through my skin and straight into my soul. Finally he looked back down at his weaving beckoning with his head for me to join him. He would show me how to weave.
Cautiously I sat next to him. Behind me the girls giggled nervously their footsteps heading back out the alley leaving me alone, behind a skip, with the weaver man whose name I didn’t even know. I swear I would’ve screamed if his voice hadn’t broken through my thoughts.
“My name is Krow and you are…?”
“Harmony” Should I have given him my real name or was I supposed to have made one up? Regardless it was too late for that now. Krow must have seen the look of panic spreading across my face and chuckled. “So you want to learn how to weave Harmony? Well first you have to find a story.”
That’s right he said a story no wonder this wackjob sat behind a skip all day. With that I simply stood up and walked away already working out which job would give me one hundred dollars in just a matter of weeks.
To Be continued...

Brian Falkner Books