AnnaScanlon Released Sep 20, 2010
This is a rough I can edit more if people wish...or not at all...if people also wish! As per people's responses I can revise....or just leave it to rot to death.


This story begins with "Once upon at time", as these stories often do. But this story is different in the fact that it doesn't end in "happily ever after". And the story is true, or at least to an extent.

Waldo Pearson was a man of high station living in the center of London. He wore nothing but the finest of clothes (ascot always included) and read only the finest, most high brow poetry. His room was decorated with nothing but shelves, and upon them were books stacked so high that one had to get a ladder to reach the very top.

Successful, though he was, Waldo was lonely, indeed. He spent his days crunching numbers for miserly old accountants who grumpily handed their numbers over for the crunching.

Waldo spent his days like this. Dressing in his ascot, moving with the masses of London to work and crunching numbers for misers. Ascot, masses, work, crunching, numbers, misers. Ascot, masses, work, crunching, numbers, misers. Ascot, masses, work, crunching, numbers, misers. His world of grey spun around him like a toy-top, or like a carousel he longed to stop.

As his life moved ceaselessly forward into the abyss of life, Waldo began to notice something interesting. While tying his ascot one morning, he noticed the polka dots that usually sat upon this particular article of clothing had run away, like ants at a picnic. Baffled and horrified (for he paid a good sixty pounds for his ascots), Waldo pulled...
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  • Screen_shot_2013-11-16_at_19.42.31
    Thanks ladies!
    Sep 20, 2010
  • Spaceship-1461125
    I like your style very much indeed Anna! Especially the somewhat open ending. This would make an excelent short film.
    Sep 21, 2010
  • Screen_shot_2013-11-16_at_19.42.31
    thanks guys. :) I can always revise as needed.
    Sep 21, 2010
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