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untitled
an unfinished work by Zikki Donovan
Please read the whole paper before commenting!
Yet another drowsy summer day was coming to a close on the comfortable, yet inhospitable-looking city of Drowsysummerdayopolis. The light of the round red sun hit the laterals of the menacing sky-scrapers, and a brilliant sunset was forming as random street lights suddenly lit themselves and beamed on the sidewalks and streets politely. At the top of the highest sky-scraper, a boy sat on the floor gazing out into the sky. His name was Peter Milford. His parents owned the sky-scraper in which he was sitting in, so the very top floor was given graciously to him as his bedroom. He sat there, emotionless, pondering the previous events of the day. He, having an enormous bedroom was surrounded by his absolute favorite books, toys, movies, video games, drawings and posters.
He had had an extraordinarily eventful day and was descending helplessly into exhaustion. He allowed himself to fall ungracefully onto his bed, where he tried to fall asleep. It seemed to take forever! Why was it that whenever he actually wanted to sleep he was never able to? He began to fall asleep in his frustration; his eyes were closing; Everything was fading. . .
*THUD*
“Ouch! What the bloody --,”
Something had just painfully collided with his forehead. He opened his to find something unbelievable: behold, there, floating in mid-air was his masterpiece LEGO starship, where a Lego man was standing on the left wing and waving his arms frantically like a lost tourist hailing a rescue helicopter in the Sahara. He was tall (for a Lego man), scrawny (for a Lego man), and rather yellow (yes, even for a Lego man).
“Ahoy, me dear lad!” said he, bearing a valiant Irish accent. He had put a stop to his frantic arm waving
“I and me faithful kin have come ter summon you on an important mission!” He pointed to his “faithful kin” which was a group of men sitting in a row, their heads lowered in a state of utmost depression.
Peter was very confused. What kind of dream was this supposed to be? He slapped himself hard on the face to make sure all this was real (he had concluded the day before that they worked much better than pinches). It was real alright.
“Well, dontcher go pursecutin’ yerself! There’s werk ter do!” And with that, his crewmen sprang up, looking a little happier. One of them climbed into the cockpit and pressed the infamous “big red button”. A trapdoor opened in the centre of the ship and a menacing gun turret was raised into place. Peter, for the first time spoke to his toys. It was very strange.
“Er, sorry I took your arm yesterday, I—“
“There’s no time fer apologizin’!” said the man, flustered.
Peter found himself staring down the barrel if the newly appeared gun. He never dreamed of being afraid of his own toys.
“What exactly is tha—,” there was a flash of sky blue light, *ZAP*
“Ah, now that’s more like it,” said the Irish man in a satisfied tone.
Peter finally realized what had happened. He was a Lego man! He couldn’t move his arms sideways, his legs were square, he had no visible ears, there were holes in his feet, and there was an uncomfortable bump in the top of his head. He was speechless.
“Now, what might be your name, young sir?” the man asked
“Maybe first you could tell me what the **** just happened here!” said Peter angrily
“That will be explained in due time, but first, er, look out the window.”
“Why, what’s so special about the win---,”
He looked out and saw nothing but hideous wasteland: the streets churned up out of the ground, buildings uprooted, and anywhere he looked there was an enormous litter of smashed cars.
“Computer, take the eight of us to Unit 17 immediately” said one of the crew members.
A small trapdoor opened under each of them and they all fell into the ship, Peter catching one last speechless gaze at the war-torn city. He hit a soft, cushiony substance with a graceful thump and stood up, where a pair of bright lights turned on. The room was completely white and Peter, other than the ceiling, lost all his depth perception. A door opened out of one of the walls. There was the same crew, looking the same as they did. They led him across a short hallway and into a large room that, supposedly was Unit 17.
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