Home : Stories by Zippit : Memory & Dream : A Different Path Taken
Summary: The road less travelled. Dale never expected to be here and he has a little trouble getting started.
AUTHOR: Zippit
EMAIL: zippit@cryptoffic.com
RATING: PG
SERIES/SETTING: Memory & Dream
CHARACTERS: Dale Earnhardt Jr, Dale Jr POV.
PROMPT: Taming the Muse #58 - Straight from the Dead Guy’s Mouth
COMPLETED: September 1, 2007
WORDS: 638
DISCLAIMER: I own NOTHING and am affiliated with NO ONE mentioned here. Not the drivers, not the teams, no one. This is all fiction and fun. In other words...NOT REAL, NOT REAL, NOT REAL. ;-)
AUTHOR’S NOTE: My brain is insane. It loves its AUs and here’s another one. The boys in college. Go figure. They’re sweet as anything and so loveable. Love them to death already. Hope you’ll enjoy the ride as much as we do! This is set in San Francisco, 1997, as Dale’s starting his new life.
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San Francisco University: September 2nd, 1997
You know I gotta look ridiculous, sitting here and staring into the eyes of this statue. I have an easy excuse with my sketchpad sitting in my lap, but it ain’t like anyone’s gonna find me here. This part of the quad is walled off by trees and I’d hear anyone coming from a mile off.
Right now, I wish this cold dead thing before me would talk. I used to think statues had people inside them. (I didn’t know there were duplicates then.) The real people were put inside the statues to be preserved forever while robots took their place in real life and if you waited long enough they’d tell you their secrets.
One summer, I found one buried in grandma’s attic. Took it home and sat beside it for hours. Staring at a motionless piece of metal gets boring so I dragged out a sketchpad and started drawing. Day after day I sat, waiting to hear words come out of the head’s mouth. Just one word would’ve been fine. It could’ve been the secret of life. But it didn’t really matter, any word at all would’ve been magic. My sketch was detailed with all the intricacy of a child’s delight, but I never heard a thing.
I think it was that summer that started my passion for drawing. I never was without a sketchpad after that. It’s the reason I’m here today and why I’m on a different coast, in a new city, chasing a different dream. I watch cold immovable lips and then take in the whole statue. They always have weird hair too cause they’re going bald or were some sort of weird genius. There’s no moss covering the thing and the area in general is well kept. Guess this place likes it’s random head statues.
My drawing’s been done for a while now. I even added in some of the forest cause I was that bored. I have plenty of time. I just want the thing to talk. Just one time. Now would be the perfect time cause I’m wondering if I’m doing the right thing, going to college on the west coast, away from everything and everyone I know.
I felt so sure, but now I’m here and about to start this grand new life. I arrived this morning, found my dorm, dumped my things on the bottom bunk (I’d unpack when I got back), and made for a secluded part of the quad. Sketchpad in hand, I found this statue and I’ve been here ever since.
My sketches have gotten better over the years with shadows and lines and the appearance of reality about them. I just don’t know if I’m good enough to pursue a career. But that’s why I’m here, isn’t it? Learn all those skills I don’t have yet.
Rub at my face, I just don’t know. Am I doing the right thing? New coast, new city, new place, new identity. It’s a lot to deal with. Maybe it’ll be easy, who knows? No one expects me to act a certain way here. After all, it really is a fresh start.
Fresh start, new me. Gaze into the eyes of ol’ metal head one last time then brush my knees off as I stand up. Pat him on the head and grab my sketchpad, I hope I don’t get stuck with a bad roommate. Oh crap…or one younger than me. Damnit, I don’t wanna become one of those horror stories I’ve heard about with the lazy ass roommate who cares about nothing but partying and the booze. I’ve had enough of all that.
I gotta just take the plunge. Head back to meet my new roommate, and get this new life started. Can’t keep running from it any longer. I’m here and there’s no going back.
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Zippit - zippit@cryptoffic.com
This is a non-profit, non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events herein actually occurred, or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real persons whose names are used without permission. |