John and Carrie: Creative Writing
John and Carrie.
I'm about to share with you one of the best, worst, and wildest experiences I have ever faced. It all started on a cold, September day, with it storming cats and dogs. I was in my bookshop, right next to the Blackleaf Lake, when he walked in. John was soaked from head to toe, and I just assumed it was from the storm. I got up off of the reading couch, and asked if he would like a towel and something dry to wear, and as I approached him I noticed what he was wearing. He looked like a laughing stock! He didn't appear to see the shock on my face, and accepted my offer graciously. I went to my apartment above the shop and got some of my brother's old clothes, towel, and laundry basket for him to put his clothes in. I got his clothes in the dryer, and went back down to keep an eye on that fellow. As soon as I gave him my brother's old clothes, I couldn't believe what he did! "You bawdy bunch-backed dogfish! What the dickens are these? I cannot go in public wearing these garments!" I just stared at him. Did he really call me a bawdy bunch-backed dogfish? It really sounded like something I would read in Romeo and Juliet. He finally looked up from his 'garments' and saw me staring at him. I decided to brush of that insult and told him something that he already knew. "You are definitely not from around here." I was wrong. "Yes, I am from around here. Actually, I live here. Right here. Well, next door really, but I walked to my home just to find it not there, so I came here, so tell me, Madam, where did my home go?" I was having trouble comprehending what he was saying, but then I understood that he thought there was a house next to my shop. "Um, Mr....?" "Jonathan." "Okay, Mr. Jonathan, my name is Carrie. Are you alright? There hasn't been a house next to my book shop since I was born, more than twenty-six years ago." “Nonsense. My home was there this morning, when left to my job, at the blacksmith on 4th Avenue." He said,
I'm about to share with you one of the best, worst, and wildest experiences I have ever faced. It all started on a cold, September day, with it storming cats and dogs. I was in my bookshop, right next to the Blackleaf Lake, when he walked in. John was soaked from head to toe, and I just assumed it was from the storm. I got up off of the reading couch, and asked if he would like a towel and something dry to wear, and as I approached him I noticed what he was wearing. He looked like a laughing stock! He didn't appear to see the shock on my face, and accepted my offer graciously. I went to my apartment above the shop and got some of my brother's old clothes, towel, and laundry basket for him to put his clothes in. I got his clothes in the dryer, and went back down to keep an eye on that fellow. As soon as I gave him my brother's old clothes, I couldn't believe what he did! "You bawdy bunch-backed dogfish! What the dickens are these? I cannot go in public wearing these garments!" I just stared at him. Did he really call me a bawdy bunch-backed dogfish? It really sounded like something I would read in Romeo and Juliet. He finally looked up from his 'garments' and saw me staring at him. I decided to brush of that insult and told him something that he already knew. "You are definitely not from around here." I was wrong. "Yes, I am from around here. Actually, I live here. Right here. Well, next door really, but I walked to my home just to find it not there, so I came here, so tell me, Madam, where did my home go?" I was having trouble comprehending what he was saying, but then I understood that he thought there was a house next to my shop. "Um, Mr....?" "Jonathan." "Okay, Mr. Jonathan, my name is Carrie. Are you alright? There hasn't been a house next to my book shop since I was born, more than twenty-six years ago." “Nonsense. My home was there this morning, when left to my job, at the blacksmith on 4th Avenue." He said,