A week ago, I saw an ‘Allergic to the letter ‘E’ challenge’ over at Art and Soul. The challenge was extended to anyone who wanted to take part, and I definitely wanted a shot at it for my ‘Friday Fun’ post.
Basically, the letter ‘E’ is the most commonly used letter in the English language, so writing a paragraph/ excerpt without it is quite a challenge. I’m up for that challenge.
Here it goes:
Sitting on my own on bus forty two is not what I had in mind. Obviously, Layla isn’t coming, but a call isn’t too much to ask, right? Now, I’m stuck on a hour long bus trip with a drunk who stinks of body odour.
I dial six unfamiliar digits from a napkin Rowan hid in my rucksack for just such occasions.
“What’s up?” Rowan sounds anxious.
“Layla’s a no show,” I say.
“What?” Rowan sighs. “Christ, Coram. I told you to go tactfully with that girl. I shouldn’t ask you to do big boy’s work.”
“Your narcissism is simply inspiring,” I hiss at him.
“I know. Why do you think I’m boss of Program Nightfall? It ain’t for my cross-stitch skills.”
I swallow back my irritation. “I don’t know why I had to bring Layla in anyway. You always said that I was a liability.”
Rowan half laughs. “Don’t act a sap, bro. And don’t worry, I won’t ask you again. Can’t you do anything right?”
My fury soars. “Shut your mouth. This isn’t my fault. I won’t kidnap Layla for you.”
Thankfully, body odour guy is in a world of his own. I catch him looking, but I doubt his mind is on anything but holding in his sick.
“Damn, Coram. You hold a torch for that girl, don’t you?” Rowan asks. “If so, you should bring Layla in. You know I will sort transport straight to HQ. If Roma and that gang find Layla first-“
“I know. I know.” I cut him off. My stomach churns with worry for Layla, and hurt that I was stood up. “Don’t say it out loud. I will talk to Layla, okay?”
“This is your last shot. If you don’t bring Layla to HQ in thirty hours, I will cut you from Program Nightfall. Layla is important, and right now, you ain’t.”
I hang up on him, pushing my hands through my hair in frustration. This sucks.
As bus forty two slows at traffic lights, I spot a hand waving from a black car. A girl with familiar pink hair starts running toward us. It’s Layla.
I jump into busy traffic, narrowly avoiding a limo.
Layla grabs my hand. “Coram, hurry. That guy is from Roma’s gang.”
Drunk, body odour guy sprints at us. His lips twist into thin, angry strips. Layla holds out a hand and a flash shoots out. Body odour guy bursts into a million shards, turning to dust around us. Cars skid in a mad confusion.
I stand in shock. Layla is a fully casting witch. Oh crap, Layla works for Kraft.
“Don’t play dumb , Coram. You know what I am. Why didn’t you say that you work for Rowan?” Layla looks hurt.
“I didn’t know you could cast! Anyway, you didn’t say that you work for Kraft,” I say, just as hurt. “Rowan will go crazy. You know that, right?”
“That’s just it. Kraft isn’t what you think, Coram. Rowan isn’t who you think. You and I must kill him.”
“No! Rowan isn’t a bad guy. You know what Roma’s gang can do. Rowan will transport you to Nightfall HQ, but Roma will kill you, Layla!”
Layla snorts. “Rowan is just as bad as Roma. Don’t you know who I am?”
“Don’t you know who I am? Rowan isn’t just my boss. I won’t kill my family.”
Layla drops my hand as if it is burning hot. “Rowan Cantrall is your family?”
Wow, that was such a fun exercise. I could have gone on and on.
Seeing as I partook in the challenge via an open invitation, I shall extend and open invite of my own. Anyone who wants a go for a bit of Friday Fun is welcome. I look forward to seeing your challenges.
The excerpts in this post are the works of K.J.Chapman