The Author and Reader
THE AUTHOR AND READER
BY ANDRE' MWANSA
COPYRIGHT 2016
CHAPTER
The Author sat up from the chair taking a break from his UNHINGED book 3 series book, he opened the fridge and grabbed a Mosi bottle of beer like he always do thinking that will help him speed up his imagination, or drift him from his solitude reality.
Mr. Albert Johnson, the author was a recluse, not because he was an author as the saying goes ''the work of the author is pretty tough, to be one you must get ready for solitary'' but the truth will always be the truth because the man had a choice. At the age of thirty three he couldn't get any woman, every time he tried one he ended up been rebuffed and slapped. How he managed to write those powerful, passionate novels of his no one knows, when asked about it all he said was tell a lie about how reality is an inspiration to fiction.
He drained his Mosi and walked to his desk sitting down back to his work, finishing the last chapter. There laughter dissolved into soft kisses were his last word in the book. Being an eBook writer he uploaded the book to his retail sites and walked outside to take in some fresh air.
Maybe taking a jog would do, he thought, heading back inside to put on his jog clothes, he peeped at the computer screen to see how many downloads so far. ''700? That’s so fast'' he said to himself. In the bedroom he opened his wardrobe and took out his adidas shorts and sneakers, he put them on and run outside jogging.
After a thirty minute jog he run back to his house, took a shower, put on some blue jeans and a black t-shirt, he walked to his computer desk. He saw an email from his favorite reader Eliza.
He opened it and read ''Hey, I would like to be a writer as well I mean your books are soul capturing, I admire your work Albert and I really would like to know one of your secrets to writing good fiction, I mean it can't be that hugger-mugger right?''
He smiled to himself and replied. ''Yeah, I mean it depends, am going to answer this one like I always do, fiction is inspired by reality''
A reply in seconds ''Ha! You and I know that can't be true right, there's more to it, please tell''
Alright. ''Solitude...solitude is the other secret'' he replied.
''What, I can't handle that, where would I get the inspiration from if am been solitude?'' She wrote asking.
What a question. ''Well, the thing is inspiration is everywhere, the trees, the sun, ocean, fish, just name it''
''Ha! That explains your being single'' she replied.
''Well, that’s an insult because I can hit on you right now'' He joked.
''What're you waiting for?'' she asked.
''For a dare''
''Well, I dare you''
He burst out laughing by himself. ''Meet me at thornpark in forty minutes''
''How is that a hit?'' She replied.
''It’s called an indirect hit''
''Alright, but not now, how about tomorrow 8pm?'' She replied.
''8pm sounds great, same venue?''
''Exactly''
''See you then'' he replied.
''Sure, and come yourself with a lot of money because I'll sponge you off''
''Are you serious'' He replied.
''Of course.....am not ha! See you''
He closed his laptop smiling that his dream or should I say, saying of reality been a fiction inspiration was about to come true.
He headed to the bedroom thinking he could get some rest after writing all those words, but he couldn't help but think of tomorrow. ''What will be my first word, should I kiss her... No man that only happens in your books, mmmmh, then what will be my first move? Alright no stress, tomorrow isn't long enough'' With that thought he fell asleep.
He walk up at seven with a different hair style that the pillow had given him, heading to bathroom, he stopped to look at his morning face. ''Nice hair style,'' he said to himself ''I think this one is Bieber''
He shaved his face or should I say his whole body getting ready for the day. ''Today, anything can happen, sorry beard'' he said to himself in the bathroom mirror. He walked back to the bed and opened his wardrobe, picked out his best outfit and looked at the clock on the wall. ''10AM?, come on day''
Looks like the Authors wish did come true after all, the day passed on so rapidly that the next time he got his eyes to look at the watch it was 7:30pm. ''I better be going'' he walked outside to his Mercedes, hit the ignition and sped off.
He reached the park looking everywhere he can, thinking he will probably spot her but no one looked like her. ''Guess am too early'' he thought, sitting down on a bench at the park’s entrance.
Checking emails on his mobile, he felt a presence in front of him, he looked up to see a lady in blue jeans, young and elegant, he looked close to see she was the one. Eyes wide open he said. ''Wow, you look exquisite''
''And I don't know what to say about you'' she jested.
''I'll take that as a compliment'' They both laughed.
''I hope,'' she said ''am not that late''
''Nah, not a bit'' being an author he was used to lying.
''Shall we'' she put her arm in his walking inside the park.
''Sure'' he replied.
He spotted an abandoned bench. ''What do you say, we take a seat''
''I would love to''
They chatted a bit, exchanged jokes, laughs, and looked into each other’s eyes most of the time.
10PM, everyone seemed to be leaving the place now. ''Shall we go?'' he asked.
''Not now''
''Oh yeah?''
‘‘Yeah ... quite some place huh, solitude can really do here,'' they both smiled looking in each other’s eyes ''It’s like you said, I mean it just keeps you calm, and thinking, especially to what you can do to your partner''
''Oh yeah, 21st century style,'' he said ''who is hitting on who now''
She smiled. They both locked eyes and kissed.
‘‘Ouch,’’ Albert cried in pain putting an arm on his belly ''what're you doing?''
''Making this all interesting'' she kissed him and stabbed him again in the belly.
Albert jumped up in panic. ''What the fuck are you doing!’’
She smirked ''What does it look like am doing,'' she walked to him while he took some steps away from her ''killing you of course''
He dodged her swing and started running screaming for help.
''No one is going to hear you Albert, you're going to be dead before anyone can hear your screams!'' She took out a gun pistol from her purse and shot him in the leg, he leapt still running.
''How so strong of you Albert...how much you love your life, too bad. Just too bad it’s going to bring me money'' She shot him again to his other leg, he fell landing on his belly, fighting for his life, he started crawling.
''Oh my God, you still fighting'' she reached to him stepping on his back pointing the gun to his head''
''Any last word Mr. Johnson?'' she asked still pointing the gun to his head.
He kept quiet assuming she won't shoot, if he didn't say any last word.
''You said it yourself, fiction is inspired by reality, hahahaha! Sorry, I just happen to be writing a murder story and as you can see, you're one of those characters in it''
''I didn't mean it like that,'' Albert said without knowing he just played in the game of saying his last words‘‘ I even gave you examples of where inspiration come from''
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''Oh, those bloody hell of examples, hahahaha! I bet you'll go to hell with them'' She slowly squeezed the trigger wanting him to say his last word and not words ''Guess who will write the best novel now''
''You'' with that a shot to the head.
''Guess it’s true what they say, correction what you said, fiction is inspired by reality'' She walked away leaving him dead on the ground.
EPILOGUE
''Honey, I just had my best dream ever'' Albert said to his wife.
''Really,'' she said ''because you just jumped out of bed''
''Yeah, alive'' he replied.
''Oh my God, were you dead?''
''In the dream, yes'' he looked at her ''My own words just turned against me, can you imagine, I never knew being an author could be so dangerous''
''Let me guess, you were killed because you lied''
''How did you know?'' he asked.
She gave him a look that says duh everyone knows that.
''Oh, not you honey, seriously, would you do the same, like that girl in the dream?''
''Well, yeah''
''What!''
''Just kidding,'' She said ''.......but in your dream I would do the same''
''Yeah, in your dream,'' she gave him a baleful look ''I mean in my dream...my dream'' Huh as if I would let her, what a dumb, it’s my dream we're talking about.
THE END.