flamingparadise
Chaos. A five letter word commonly found in the English dictionary. The subject of books and movies, nightmares and evil plans.
In books and movies it's exciting: it drives them forward, keeps people hooked. In fiction, chaos is a natural, necessary element.
But in real life?
It sucks.
Eric glanced down at the brown and white checkered board before him, scrunching his eyebrows in concentration as he gazed among his players. He'd lost all but one pawn, the rest gone thanks to his opponent's rather exuberant knight.
Eric let a grin slip over his face as he moved his pawn forward one space.
"Check mate."
This wasn't common.
Her parents not being home was common. The dog sleeping peacefully in its chair was common. Her pile of laundry lying haphazardly in her room was common.
A man standing with his back to her calmly staring at her family's photographs was not common.
And it scared her.
He was a master.
Hailey watched in awe as the craftsman carved the small figurine with deft, precise strokes. He was better then any she had ever seen. For one short moment she felt a rush of thankfulness to her father for signing her up for this. Sure, he was simply trying to get her out of his house and sight for the summer, but if she was indeed going to learn the art of sculpture from this man, she was indebted.
Not that she intended or enjoyed owing her father something.
"Your turn."
Hailey looked up in shock as the man handed her his carving tools and a block of what looked like marble, but might've been limestone.
"Carve."
I panted as I ran down the road, still wet from the downpour. It was just my luck that on my way to the party not only would I run into a downpour, but my neighbor's highly irritating dog Spike.