Dear Readers,
"Meanings of the word: Gay. - To show happy or exuberant spirits. To be in a mood that is Jovial. Or, as the modern fellow peer defines it: To be a freak. To be stupid. To be a faggot.
Faggot, once a word only used in terms of dried wood, now a term used only as derision." I looked up from my journal as I heard my father unlock the door and curse loudly as he tripped over my juggling gear.
"BRADLEY!" I winced, shoved my book under my pillow and darted into the hallway. My socked feet made no real sound against the carpet, but I had to wave my arms to keep my balance as I slid into the kitchen.
Dad was loaded down with groceries, his overnight bag, and his briefcase. I lunged and nearly knocked him over, grabbing the brown bag of foodstuffs from him.
"And the Mighty Hunter returns from the kill!" He joked as I pulled out the milk and began to set it in the refrigerator.
"Dad," I said, giving him a look of annoyance from the fridge, "If you're a mighty hunter, then I'm Genghis Khan." He rolled his eyes and then put his briefcase on the counter and his bag on the floor. He knows my humor is sardonic and though he'd like to break me of the habit, he can't.
"How many times have I told you to store your Juggling gear in your room?" He replied instead. I shrugged.
"Enough that I should know by now?" I offered, paying more attention to the fresh apple that is about to go into my mouth.
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Preview of a first paragraph. Problem is: No driving action. Solution: Draft more stuff.
Faggot, once a word only used in terms of dried wood, now a term used only as derision." I looked up from my journal as I heard my father unlock the door and curse loudly as he tripped over my juggling gear.
"BRADLEY!" I winced, shoved my book under my pillow and darted into the hallway. My socked feet made no real sound against the carpet, but I had to wave my arms to keep my balance as I slid into the kitchen.
Dad was loaded down with groceries, his overnight bag, and his briefcase. I lunged and nearly knocked him over, grabbing the brown bag of foodstuffs from him.
"And the Mighty Hunter returns from the kill!" He joked as I pulled out the milk and began to set it in the refrigerator.
"Dad," I said, giving him a look of annoyance from the fridge, "If you're a mighty hunter, then I'm Genghis Khan." He rolled his eyes and then put his briefcase on the counter and his bag on the floor. He knows my humor is sardonic and though he'd like to break me of the habit, he can't.
"How many times have I told you to store your Juggling gear in your room?" He replied instead. I shrugged.
"Enough that I should know by now?" I offered, paying more attention to the fresh apple that is about to go into my mouth.
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Preview of a first paragraph. Problem is: No driving action. Solution: Draft more stuff.