Mr. Whitley unfinished

My First Short-Story:Mr. Whitley

Plot:Eugene Forest

Edited/Revised by:E

Dialouge> by:Eugene Forest

Edited/Revised by:Eugene Forest



"Watch your path,you worthless haggard"-six words,thirty two letters had never hit Whitley any harder. Entering through his ears ,conniving their way through his brain, before jolting his already battered heart. Before the windfall these words,this type of treatment,was expected on a hourly basis. His expectations of mistreatment were established early and he became accustomed to the low life,failure over-shadowed his will; Insolvency was his middle name,he knew no luck,expecting the wretched, without a doubt,without a thought of change. Until change slapped him in the face,while in bed at Woodson's park: Where he slept,night after night,on a iron bench.

Whitley was not a religious man,in fact an atheist but this boon,this chance,this ticket was or had to be a blessing from the most high. His walk to turn in his finding felt unreal,his cloths that of a scoundrel no longer oppressed his desire to express himself with flamboyant posture and attitude. "These threads have to go" he exclaims to himself after receiving his prize, the first store he stops at was the finest store in all New Hamshire. "Now i feel alive" he yells as he exits the five star retail department,his walk that of a redundant thief,leaving his job without a worry,without a care for who spots his image. As Whitley streams down the sidewalk, he captures a few glances,as he continues his travel he receives a couple stares,placing a huge regaling smile upon his undeserving face. "Now all i need is my queen" he whispers to himself while entering the local liquor store. Whitley leaves the liquor store with his favorite drink,placed in a paper bag with a rubber band wrapped around the mouth peice of the drink to conceal the liquor.

On the way to his favorite bar, Whitley spots his old bestfreind from high-school. He was a very successful gentleman,whom owned his home and was soon to retire into a state of oblivion. During the past few years Whitley had developed an overwhelming fear,a niche for inferiority,quailing at the thought of a situation of association with a dominant force. Something inside of Whitley drove him to approach his Ex-bestfreind with a sinuous smirk,arms behind his frame,as if so he preferred his vice hidden; Cautious of judgment,seeking approval."Your shoe is untied" Whitley suggests as he walks up behind his high-school buddy. Quickly turning in defense,the gentleman recognizes his old freind and gives a nod of acknowledgement and bends down to tie his shoe. "Traditionally, normal law-abiding citizens greet with hello,Whitley" the man expels as he ascends to eye level with Whitley. "Forgive the past,unaware of the perpetualities of survival,it chose to mimic its predecessor" Whitley says with articulation. "You cannot fool me with your technical jargon, you failed to simply graduate high-school, how much do you make a year Whitley?-Huh- Enough to buy quotes from an educated being? At this time Whitley's arms were still adjoined behind his back,he brings them to his side with an air of confidence and rests the liquor bottle on his left thigh. "I have no regard for your stereotypical views of the un-educated American. Here, enjoy a small percentage of my income." Whitley says with the same sinuous smirk he walked up with,he tosses the percentage at his ex-bestfreind and heads toward his destination.

"Currency is power,without a doubt; i was once a penny-less coward, but to my avail, i am now an emperor: with those that should take heed and worship the Almighty Whitley" He says to himself, while walking with a jugular swagger. He now decides that this moment is deservent of a ceremonial celebration and engages the liqour bottle, unraveling the plastic surroundings around his drink. Usually after Whitley would unravel his drink he would tilt the bottom of the bottle towards the sky, with no remorse, but today being filled with pretension; he decides to drink it with a civilized manner. After the bottle reads half-empty, Whitley arrives at this destination. He enters the local bar with the biggest smile known to Western Civilization, and sits down next to the most alluring individual: Distinctively out of his daily routine(Whitley was a very un-confident, insecure being). "You are divine, an earthly Deity, with a radiant smile, may i buy thee a drink?" Whitley says to the gentlemen. The Conversational counterpart replys with a blatent smile, an says " Sorry guy, i do not desire my own image-in fact: i despise narcissism " with a distinct seriousness in his voice; he grabs his cup, and struts away slowly. This instance of rejection: would usually plunder distress upon Whitley,but today was his day of oblivion;forgeting each post-dissapointment like an elite quarterback with a short-memory. He slides unto the seat that the gentleman departed from an directs his attention toward a women who appeared to be lonely; as she looks down at her lap, twiddling her thumbs together with a perculiar awkwardness. " Two Beers for us two love-birds,please" Whitley utters to the bar attendant. "Um,Um...I do not drink sir-and i find beer particularly distasteful" the lady suggests with a girlish-undertone. "Well i'll be enjoying two beers I imagine" Whitley replys with a smile. After the beer arrives, Whitley drinks both in a few moments: creating an uncomfortable air between the two love-birds. "I say we get out of here" Whitley suggests: the lady obeys with a courteous smile, grabs her purse and travels toward the door, still managing to not yet meet eyes with Whitley.

As they walk side by side down the poorly paved sidewalk, eye contact is exchanged, and smiles are revealed. "I've never been with a man of your age Whitley, what could a women of inexperience bring to a man of your standards?" The lady asks with Curiousity. "Young flesh, questions and all of her teeth" Whitley replys with a faint laughter. As the conversation reaches an awkward silence, the two land themselves right in-front of a villa, which had rooms inside that were available for hourly rent. "Wait here, i will see about a room inside" Whitley commands. Hours pass, clothes shed, and Whitley awakes to find himself in the room alone. He ponders on his freinds location, but puts the thoughts to rest "hey,who cares...we had fun" he mentions to himself with a distraught smile upon his face. He lay there physically satisfied, for a few moments then realizes hunger is among him. He reaches for his wallet, expecting to feel the thickness of the leather; but rather feels a meager shape to it. Whitley jumps to his feet, looking all through his wallet and pockets to attain his fortune, but is sadly dissapointed about what he found in his right pocket instead. A yellow note that read "Wait here, while i spend this money." Whitley breaks down to his knees in a feminine cry, he never saw it coming, just like the ticket.

finished..first short story...i may come with an alternate ending.....

EUGENE FOREST...