George and Margaret
September 18, 2002
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Homework
I couldn't figure out which narrative version I liked better, so I posted both of them. :-)
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Dialogue version:
"George?"
"Oh. . . . Um, hello Margaret."
"I just saw you coming out of the doctor's office. . . . Is everything ok?"
Sigh. "No, not really. Doc said there's something wrong with my liver, but the tests aren't showing exactly what it is."
"Oh. . . . Well, I'm on my way downtown, can I give you a lift somewhere?"
"No, no. . . . Thank you though. I'm meeting my wife here in a few minutes."
"Oh? How is Sally doing?"
"She's overly worried," Clears throat. "You know how she gets. . ."
"I understand. Well. . . . I hope that everything goes well for you. I, um. . . . Yeah, well I guess I'll see you around then."
"Sure, I'll tell Sally you asked about her."
"Good. Bye now."
"So long." Sigh.
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Narrative version (idea one):
He had just stepped out of the doctor's office when he heard his name called. He turned to see Margaret walking up to him. He noticed how she looked him over and knew that she saw an old man standing before her.
He had studied himself in the mirror that morning and wondered why his father was staring back at him. He felt old that day. He saw the wrinkles around his face more vividly then ever before, the bags under his eyes were more pronounced. His hair was gray and quickly leaving him. His whole body was a dull ache that had built up slowly over the last few years.
"Oh? How is Sally doing?"
He suddenly realized that Margaret was still talking to him, but he was too wrapped up in his personal problems to really pay any attention to her and what she was saying. He answered her questions with only part of his mind. The rest of his thoughts was focused on how he was going to deal with a diseased liver, and an old man's body.
"Good. Bye now."
Oh Good. He thought, as he waved and said "So long." He could then get back to more important things. Sighing, he turned away to await his wife's arrival.
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Narrative version (idea two):
I was sitting in the cafe across the street from Ol' Doc Witticker's office. I was staring in that general direction when I saw an older gentleman exit the office. He seemed very old, although his body couldn't have accumulated more then 50 years. He was balding and the hair that was left to him was a striking silver. It seemed as though he hadn't slept in a while, I could see the dark rings under his eyes blending in with the laugh lines around his down-turned mouth and humorless eyes. His dress was simple, it looked like an old tweed suit.
I watched as he was startled by a woman calling to him from a few doors down the street. She hurriedly walked up to him and started to talk to him. He looked very uncomfortable to see her. By the way he was standing a little away from her and the way she kept edging closer, I could tell that there was a history there. One that looked like it could still be making history if something hadn't come between them.
She was a very handsome woman, probably in her late thirties or early forties. Her hair was dark and sprinkled with a bit of silver. Her eyes were cheery for the most part, although as the brief conversation concluded, a part of her seemed to wither away. Regardless of the dying ember, she carried herself with pride. She seemed well kept, despite the obvious heart-break that this older man had brought to her. The blouse and jeans she had on were simple and well cut.
They finished talking and he waved as she walked away. Then he turned and sighed. I could see him watching for something, probably someone.
I looked at her once more as she walked up the street, and I could see that her shoulders were trembling with suppressed sobs. But I stopped watching them both when my lunch was brought to my table.
NOTE: This was an assignment for my CCV Creative Writing II online class with William Noble.
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