He stared out the misted window, quietly listening to the gentle rain striking the sash. Staring. How long was any one’s guess, for he himself had lost track of all time.
At this hour yesterday, he would not have imagined this turn of events. And now that seems so long ago, seems a far away place. But he had indeed done the deed right in this very room, within these weathered walls ensconced with yellowing wallpaper. A setting as dreary as his life had turned in this short span of time.
How could he have been made so quickly? He was certain the work he pulled from was buried in obscurity. Fellows was probably long dead, the manuscript surely forgotten. What were the odds that Vander would have recognized it? The bastard!
The look on Vander’s face when he turned it in said it all. Standing hat in hand, watching him read the first paragraph. Bushy grey eyebrows raised, then sank as Vander’s forehead furrowed, deepening to a scowl as his bald and age spotted head grew more and more red.
“Son,” Vander’s voice seeped with contempt, “I want to enlighten you this morning. Do you know what I did before I became editor at this establishment?” He looked up. His watered and saggy old eyes still had the ability to pierce as if by sword.
“I wrote. I wrote many, many things. Including, I’m sorry to say, this article you are trying to pass as your own!” Vander pounded his fist on his cluttered and distressed desk.
Vander stood and offered his right hand across the desk. “I’m J. Darwin Vander. Also known by my pen name, Edgar Fellows.”
The young writer felt his knees grow weak as realization dawned.
His writing was finished.
Now, he was a plagiarist.
Awesome! Thanks for the entry, George!
(I’m reminded of all those folks making information products using old “public domain works” and passing those old pieces off as their own!)
Lindsay´s last blog post..$250 Writing/Blogging Contest — Write a Fable for Your Blog and Win!
Lindsay,
Thanks for the great contest idea. I can’t wait to read the other entries!
George
A sign of a great writer is when the reader feels like she is sitting beside the character in the midst of all that is going on. It feels dark out.
Dee Langdon – BloggerNewbie´s last blog post..Introducing – Question of the Week? Vote in our Poll!
Really good story, that guy most have craped his pants right there. Congrats.
@Dee: Thank you so much. It was a fun write.
@Blacktone vb: Hey, it’s good to see you here, Twitter-bud. Thanks for coming over and commenting!
Cheers
George
Interesting. I applaud you again for creative use of the blog.
I did it as well. Mine is less serious and more a display of my twerpy personality. My moral is to write what you love as a freelancer. http://tinyurl.com/6gopy3
Jessie´s last blog post..
Jessie. hey, Thanks!
Folks, cruise on over to Jessie’s site and have a look. It’s a great story
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Oooh! Love this piece of writing, George! I’m impressed at how you managed to create that feeling of dread throughout. Poor guy must have been totally destroyed at such a revelation!
Matt,
Thanks for commenting on this one. I hadn’t looked at it in a while and as I re-read it this evening, I kinda went, “wow.”
I’m glad you liked it and I hope you’re having a good bit of fun poking around.
George