The Story to End All STORIES!

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The Story to End All STORIES!

Post  Dr. Bright on Fri Dec 14, 2012 7:39 pm

Inspired by Lenina~
I was only fifteen when I left home. There are many reasons why I did--Scotland was a beautiful place, but somewhat dull and very wet. The ground was so consistently and severely wet that one couldn't walk very far without having moist socks, a condition that I greatly despised. For many years I put up with these non-dry foot garments, until one moment, a sudden thought hit me: Why don't I leave to a place dryer? I wouldn't have wet socks, and I had enough money for a train ticket.
It didn't take me long to pack my things--I took along with me thirty pairs of socks (to make sure my feet were dry, I had to constantly change them out while walking.), three bow ties, and three multi-colored balls for juggling. I was never very good at juggling, but it comforted me in times of wet-footed trouble. My parents never noticed that I had left, because they were always in the laundry room drying there socks. I forgot to mention that the air in Scotland was so humid that to dry a garment, you would have to leave it in a dryer for twelve hours. Because of that, my parents were always hunched over the dryer, discussing simple and misguided philosophy. Though I hated this condition of theirs, it aided me in my escape from this moist country.
The train ticket costed more than I had originally assumed--I had decided to take a train to Australia, but the person manning the ticket booth said that I would have to go on some sort of winged-train. I was curious of this idea, and I decided to find a place where rides on these winged, flying trains were sold. It didn't take me long, because it just so happened that there was one just next door to the train station.
I examined this strange, peculiar place. The staff that were at the ticket booth said that these winged trains would actually fly you to your desired location. I had never heard of this before, and the idea seemed so grand as to almost be impossible. On account of this travesty, this lie, I punched the ticket clerk in the face, three times, and fled to find another place where the staff would not tell lies about their flying trains. I found that there was another one just across the street, so I started sprinting towards it, occasionally jumping with grandeur.
It was only when I approached very close to the building when I hit the wall. I realized that there was not actually a flying-train station across the road, but that it was actually a giant mirror reflecting the image of the one I had been at prior to this event. I was very confused, where would you get all of the shiny-goo required to make this mirror? It stretched across the whole road, seemingly infinitely. I started walking along the length of the mirror, often failing to realize it was actually a mirror and repeatedly walking into it.
After what seemed like at least five miles, my socks were wet enough to fill five bathtubs with their foot-water. I stopped to change my socks five times, and continued walking. Today was a thursday, and I knew that I had never gotten the hang of thursdays. I probably never would, not with this dire world of wet socks and giant mirrors. Walking was a brutal task, as your feet made a 'splurch' sound every time you took a step. I had gotten used to it over years of conditioning and therapy, though, but it still was a mild, burning annoyance in the back of my head. It seemed that there had been about, say, five point three billion splurches of my socks within my lifetime. I hated it, and this was one of the reasons I sought a dryer country to make it cease.
I lost interest in the giant mirror after walking about seven miles and finding no irregularities within it's shining, straight grace. I decided to travel to the library, which was now about twenty-two miles away. It was a long trip, and I had already exhausted my supply of spare socks, but I knew it was what I had to do. I needed to check out a copy of 'The God Delusion' for my leisure reading--my flying-train trip might be a long one. I also knew that the trip to the library would be long and grueling, with many 'splurch' sounds along the way, but as I said--it was what I had to do.
[TO BE CONTINUED]




Dr. Bright
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Re: The Story to End All STORIES!

Post  Lenina Crowne on Fri Dec 14, 2012 8:19 pm

I am honored to be the inspiration for this story, it was so touching. All we can do now is hope that he finds a nice dry place where he won't have uncomfortable and moist socks
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