nkjames11
09-05-2005, 09:19 AM
i was instructed to write a short story about a utopic world. any feedback would be greatly appreciated, feel free to get creative on it yourself as it is short and wouldn't be hard to mix it up yourself
cheers nj
It was a Monday and the computer made a monotonous hum as Devon Wiltshire gazed upon the ‘Jones File’. He was methodically inspecting their recent monetary proceedings as he had done so for the past 9 years as an accountant for the State. Year after year the ‘Jones File’ like so many others would popup for him to do his bit on. His job paid the same wage as everyone else in town was receiving and was therefore the perfect career. The choice to be involved in an economic occupation was his own, making his life complication free.
As Devon was plodding through the accounts, he became aware of the wattlebird knocking against his office window. It was the same bird that had been there all of the past week, and the week before; tapping its beak on the pane. It was not agitating, rather the bird aroused curiosity within Devon as to its motivation behind its incessant urge to enter his office. What could it want inside, that it didn’t have outside, in the absolute unknown beyond the glass obstructing the bird and its will?
On Tuesday Devon returned to his desk ready for another day. He had had a quaint evening the previous night with his friends and partner but was now focused on recent transactions of a married couple. His concentration was broken though when the wattlebird returned to it habitual attempts to come in. After pondering the bird for some time it dawned on him that the bird did not know what was in his office, but needed to explore it to be satisfied. Devon did not understand however why the bird, with food and water and the vast world to be content with, would be turning its back and be trying to escape adequate environs. He continued to work but simultaneously wondered what the bird expected to find in his office, considering all it has ever needed or wanted, it has had.
Thoughts of the bird had totally overcome Devon’s workday. On Wednesday he sat facing it, mesmerised by its constant panning of the office; swift neck movements from side to side then back to flying away a brief distance and charging into the window. These thoughts often transposed into thoughts about his own life and values. He had a job like everybody else, the same type of house, family, friends, and a girlfriend. Crime was nonexistent, fights were non-apparent - the world was void of all manufacturers of pessimism and negativity. His life was good. No. He had a life, of suitability but of what substance that differentiated it from the next? ‘What more is there?’ was the question he posed.
Home life for Devon had suddenly become dull and meaningless due to the amount of time he had spent inside his own head. His partner was oblivious to his unprecedented contemplation but it had consumed Devon and had caused him to crave a change. On Thursday at work he didn’t even turn on his computer, he jus set up his chair toward the persistent bird bearing on his window. He admired how the bird, although it seemed impossible to achieve its goal, still attempted to breakthrough. After several hours of sitting, Devon stood and was face to face with the creature. He could sense the bird’s determination and identical craving for a glitch in being content. Without hesitation he unlatched the window and felt the bird fly in over his shoulder as he stepped over the ledge, knowing both had proved there has got to be something more.
cheers nj
It was a Monday and the computer made a monotonous hum as Devon Wiltshire gazed upon the ‘Jones File’. He was methodically inspecting their recent monetary proceedings as he had done so for the past 9 years as an accountant for the State. Year after year the ‘Jones File’ like so many others would popup for him to do his bit on. His job paid the same wage as everyone else in town was receiving and was therefore the perfect career. The choice to be involved in an economic occupation was his own, making his life complication free.
As Devon was plodding through the accounts, he became aware of the wattlebird knocking against his office window. It was the same bird that had been there all of the past week, and the week before; tapping its beak on the pane. It was not agitating, rather the bird aroused curiosity within Devon as to its motivation behind its incessant urge to enter his office. What could it want inside, that it didn’t have outside, in the absolute unknown beyond the glass obstructing the bird and its will?
On Tuesday Devon returned to his desk ready for another day. He had had a quaint evening the previous night with his friends and partner but was now focused on recent transactions of a married couple. His concentration was broken though when the wattlebird returned to it habitual attempts to come in. After pondering the bird for some time it dawned on him that the bird did not know what was in his office, but needed to explore it to be satisfied. Devon did not understand however why the bird, with food and water and the vast world to be content with, would be turning its back and be trying to escape adequate environs. He continued to work but simultaneously wondered what the bird expected to find in his office, considering all it has ever needed or wanted, it has had.
Thoughts of the bird had totally overcome Devon’s workday. On Wednesday he sat facing it, mesmerised by its constant panning of the office; swift neck movements from side to side then back to flying away a brief distance and charging into the window. These thoughts often transposed into thoughts about his own life and values. He had a job like everybody else, the same type of house, family, friends, and a girlfriend. Crime was nonexistent, fights were non-apparent - the world was void of all manufacturers of pessimism and negativity. His life was good. No. He had a life, of suitability but of what substance that differentiated it from the next? ‘What more is there?’ was the question he posed.
Home life for Devon had suddenly become dull and meaningless due to the amount of time he had spent inside his own head. His partner was oblivious to his unprecedented contemplation but it had consumed Devon and had caused him to crave a change. On Thursday at work he didn’t even turn on his computer, he jus set up his chair toward the persistent bird bearing on his window. He admired how the bird, although it seemed impossible to achieve its goal, still attempted to breakthrough. After several hours of sitting, Devon stood and was face to face with the creature. He could sense the bird’s determination and identical craving for a glitch in being content. Without hesitation he unlatched the window and felt the bird fly in over his shoulder as he stepped over the ledge, knowing both had proved there has got to be something more.