Hello readers. I'm going to try something, an experiment. I've written a decent sized story/novel and I want to release a chapter at a time on this blog. It's about a guy named Gary and it's called 'The Man Who Never Intends.'
The Man Who Never Intends
Gary was tired from a long day on an old bus. He was the only one on the bus, as the folks in the town he just left weren't too interested in taking the bus to Little Port, Texas. The town was named after something it didn't have, thought Gary as he peered out through the bus's dingy windows. This town was landlocked.
Gary thought about his life and how'd it'd come to this, going to towns with no ports on old buses looking out dingy windows. On cue, the bus driver honked his horn long and steady, bringing Gary back to reality and away from his thoughts about his life. He looked up to see the bus driver wearing a smug, cranky expression. He looked like one of those dogs with the jowels all floppy. His eyes were slits in fleshy mounds situated atop a squashed nose which sat lazy guard atop the sloppy cheeks.
Another honk. He wanted Gary to leave the bus. And Gary wanted to leave the bus, just at his own pace. Apparently his pace and the bus driver's pace weren't the same pace.
OK, thought Gary, have it your way. Gary told himself that he'd think more about his life later on that night.
Gary stood up, stretched, and grabbed his backpack, which had a change of shirt and a notebook stuffed inside. The shirt inside his pack was grey, just like the one he currently wore. Gary only wore grey shirts. He once tried another color. It was the worst day of his life. He decided then and there that the mid-grey, the heather grey, was the hue for him.
The other item in his backpack, the notebook, was unopened. It was new, see, and Gary bought it a few towns back in order to record some of his daily activities. His missions, if you will. Gary would write in it later, he decided. He was surprised at how his night was filling up. He should make mention of that inside his new notebook.
Gary walked to the front of the bus and stopped.
'Thank you for the ride,' Gary said with a firm resolve and a very Gary-like chin tilt.
'Humph,' said the driver.
So much jowel, thought Gary. It's probably the best he can muster with all that flap.
Gary stepped down onto the loose soil and sighed. The sun was purple and gold and warm and setting on the tiny town of Little Port, Texas, the town with No Port at all. Cute town, though, thought Gary. Smells a little, but other than that, it's cute. Maybe it was Big Grey that smelled. Gary had nicknames for his t-shirts. There was Big Grey and then there was Special Grey. Gary got bored a lot in life.
As the bus went off, Gary thought to himself about how he should remember to think about his life again later. He'd do it over dinner, he decided, at the quaint little cafe he spied across the street. The 'E' in the Cafe sign was out so it just read 'Caf.'
This town is kind of a dump, thought Gary, who only a few moments earlier thought that it was cute.
Just then Gary heard a scream.