Creative Muses July prompt #3
Do Or Do not. There is no try. - Yoda.
His face hit the concrete on the building’s roof with a hard thud. As Peter looked up, a scruffy, snarking face was looking back at him. Claude had pushed him yet again, trying to convince the power of flight Peter seemed so sure lay dormant inside him to show itself. Peter spoke slowly, breathing heavily in between each word.
“How…many…times…do…I…have…to…say…I’m…TRYING!” he shouted at his gruff mentor. Claude pushed him back down onto the pavement, reminding him that if his dream was accurate and he was going to bring a nuclear apocalypse onto New York City, “trying” wouldn’t be good enough. Peter ran at Claude, his rage burning inside him, but the other man quickly turned invisible and eluded Peter’s swinging fists.
“You say you can do it, so do it, mate” Claude stated. “I don’t see how you can be so much more comfortable around your brother to be able to fly, and not me. I’m trying to help you, trying to teach you how to stand on your own two feet. Or, lift up off of them in this case. All your family does is push you down, send you on your way to think you’re making a difference while they pay your way. I’m trying to help you actually make that difference you’re always pratt’lin’ on about, and you’re lyin’ on your face on a bloody roof”.
“I told you, I’m TRYING!” Peter telekinetically hurled a rock at Claude, who ducked to avoid the blow.
“Then get up off your kit and try AGAIN. HARDER”.
Peter grudgingly picked himself up off of the pavement, knowing that Claude was right. Again.
His face hit the concrete on the building’s roof with a hard thud. As Peter looked up, a scruffy, snarking face was looking back at him. Claude had pushed him yet again, trying to convince the power of flight Peter seemed so sure lay dormant inside him to show itself. Peter spoke slowly, breathing heavily in between each word.
“How…many…times…do…I…have…to…say…I’m…TRYING!” he shouted at his gruff mentor. Claude pushed him back down onto the pavement, reminding him that if his dream was accurate and he was going to bring a nuclear apocalypse onto New York City, “trying” wouldn’t be good enough. Peter ran at Claude, his rage burning inside him, but the other man quickly turned invisible and eluded Peter’s swinging fists.
“You say you can do it, so do it, mate” Claude stated. “I don’t see how you can be so much more comfortable around your brother to be able to fly, and not me. I’m trying to help you, trying to teach you how to stand on your own two feet. Or, lift up off of them in this case. All your family does is push you down, send you on your way to think you’re making a difference while they pay your way. I’m trying to help you actually make that difference you’re always pratt’lin’ on about, and you’re lyin’ on your face on a bloody roof”.
“I told you, I’m TRYING!” Peter telekinetically hurled a rock at Claude, who ducked to avoid the blow.
“Then get up off your kit and try AGAIN. HARDER”.
Peter grudgingly picked himself up off of the pavement, knowing that Claude was right. Again.