May 10, 2010

Lock The Door (Story-Telling 101)

Step 1: Set the stage...
Friday morning.  Sun leaks through frosted glass, feeling warm against ceramic, casting wild, morning hair shadows on mocha-mauve walls.

Step 2: Introduce Protagonist...
She pulls the door closed but doesn't let it latch on the very likely chance that one of the kids will need her in the six minutes she allows herself to shower.  Her sleepy bare foot shuffle skews the bath mat as she pulls back the white waffle curtain to turn on the water.  A yawn, audible and ugly, stretches muscles that lay slack for the last seven hours.  She holds her hand beneath the running tap, testing the temperature, wondering what it would be like to have time for a manicure.  She hangs her robe on the hook but it falls into a puddle of fabric on the floor - it's not a very good hook.  She steps into the tub, moving aside the Spider Man action figure that's upside down in the drain - victim of some terrible torture the night before (though he seems none the worse for wear).  She sighs beneath the strong stream of water, so hot it steams the windows in the next room.

Step 3: Introduce Villain...
His sock feet make no sound against the tiles and he coaxes the door open with no protest.  His glasses fog but he quickly wipes them clear.  The heavy hum of the ceiling fan drowns the sound of his stealthy approach and the bip bip bip of his cell phone buttons as he brings up the built-in camera.  He's laughing through his nose.

Step 4: Insert Conflict...
She's mid lather when the curtain shakes.  A shadow moves.  She keeps her eyes open.  An arm sneaks around the end of the curtain, cell phone poised.  The click comes in the middle of her karate-esque kick and scream.  The hand is withdrawn followed by a disappointed, "Ahhh, it's blurry!"  She's on the look-out now, a wet slap when the lens appears over the top.

Step 5:  Resolve with a crowd-pleasing conclusion...
His attempts are futile.  She's fast as lightening.  Five wasted clicks.  He's preparing for the sixth.  She cups her hands beneath the stream, her makeshift bucket filled to overflowing.  The curtain shakes.  She tosses... "HON!!!!!"  Bulls eye!  He's wet.  His phone is wet.  Every picture is blurry.  She wins.  There's water on the floor and the walls and the ceiling.  She doesn't care.  It was worth it.  He pouts.

Step 6: And the moral of the story is...
Next time, she'll lock the bathroom door.
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2 comments:

  1. The pastor who married us encouraged shower pranks (i.e. throwing cold water over the shower curtain) to keep our love alive!

    ReplyDelete
  2. that's what you get for being a jackass.....nicely done.

    ReplyDelete

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