Creative Writing : Percival

“Chicken parmesan.” I replied, placing a pan on the stove. I move to get the spices out of the cabinet above my head and he moves with me. I giggle, then try to push him off. “Liam, I’m trying to cook.”

You could feel the riot before you could see it. There was something else in the crisp early morning New York air, a certain electricity. A certain static that could only have been brought about by the winds of change. Even at three am the city is usually alive, but in these early Saturday morning hours Christopher Street was more alive than usual. However, it wasn't the normal flamboyant energy it had come to been known for. It was an angry energy, one that's only capable of being created by an oppressed group fed up with the constant mistreatment they've too long endured.

Percival dragged his fingers through his new beard. Hearing his wife's cries of agony down the hallway was pushing him to the edge of madness. Several hours earlier, Fleur had gone into labor just as the nighttime Yule feast had started. Gwaine had encouraged Percival to remain at the feast as a distraction, but Percival

lliot Harrison wasn't quite sure where she had gone wrong. Maybe it was because they'd spent one night too long in that beat down hotel, maybe it was because she'd forgotten how to use her brain for a second and shot a walker that caught up to her instead of getting her knife out and danger had already been lurking around the corner. Maybe none of it mattered at all because somehow, she was going to end up exactly where she was.

“Gawain,” said Joan, still adjusting his nose, “the more you talk, the longer this’ll take. I’m almost done. I’m sorry this hurts so much, but there’s no other way.”

“Anything that can help us find out who did this.” I said, examining the crime scene. I walked towards what used to be the glass case that held the crown, but was now a useless, shattered cube.

It was late Christmas night and the McAlister’s were mourning their daughter as they do ever

“AAH, I must have overslept!” The Hero rushed towards the window, and he saw that Monster Zero must have been busy for at least a few hours. He gathered all his weapons, and ran towards Monster Zero, somewhere where he could not be seen. “Alright, all monsters have a weak point, so where could it be……..aha! Monster Zero’s neck isn’t covered by any scales, so I must attack there!”

He heard the men coming. He saw a boy holding a young girl not more than 10 feet in front of him and yelled for them to run. The boy frantically stood and it was then that Enrique could see this boy could not have been more than 12 years of age. He looked like a good boy, the kind of boy who did good in school, who listened to his parents, who cared for his younger siblings. Enrique decided he liked this young boy and that he wished to associate himself with him and the tiny girl he was so carefully holding, with love only a brother can give. They then ran together until they reached the front of the train. The other boys were only two train cars away! Enrique was scared.

As soon as Michael sat down, Allison gave Michael a strip tease. She slowly took off her dress. Once Allison stripped down to her underwear, she gave Michael a quick lap dance. She then stripped herself completely naked.

Gawain stepped back from the huddle, held out his arms, and turned. “How do I look?”

"I'll have the cold Broccoli soup and the Fresh Garden Salad with some Fluffy cheese Rice," she said putting down her menu, having decided to try something new. She had no intention of letting him ruin her apatite!

“Tracy, calm down. I’m sure you can whip something up with—” Mr. Jones spoke, but, irritated at her husband’s behavior, Tracy interrupted him.

I rolled over in the mountain of duvet covers to the sound of Dakota giggling. I smiled as I raised my arm to feel for my husband’s hand but all I felt was Bean’s fury leg. I thought about how the children, Lena and Dakota, would react to their Christmas gifts this morning as I jumped out from under the heating blanket. As I rose from my slumber, I could feel my muscles loses their strength. I dismissed what I had observed because today was special, it was Christmas.

The odor of the meal was as delectable as the food itself. It consumed the original scent of the house and warmed up the entire room. This same maid set the table and placed the utensils in place and meekly left the room.