Status: Alive and kicking.
The Riddle (The Story of Edward Craig)
Number 78, Russell Street
His pen scribbles down on a small notebook. June 24, 2007 -- Hi, I'm Edward Maxon Craig. Call me Edward, Eddie, or Ed for short, but I usually go by Craig. Everyone calls me Craig, even my fami... Craig flinched upon the strong knock at the door.
"What is it, Amy," he almost yelled.
"Aren't you gonna eat?" said a soft voice coming from the door.
"No."
"And stop banging on the door, please, even just for the rest of the night. It's 10 p.m. and your hands are still bulldozing my door."
He went back to writing his biography. ...I live in a 2-story house in Number 78... There goes the door again.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
"What now, Amy? I told you--"
"Your puzzle magazines are here."
"In the middle of the night? Go away, Amy, and DON'T test me. Believe me, don't."
"Okay, okay, relax. Jeez...."
"You should get some anger management seminars or sum--"
"SHUT UP!"
He threw about three books at the door, all at once. After a straight look at the door, he attained his peace. He continued his autobiography.
...in Boston. I work as a cryptanalyst in NIST, but am on a leave as of the moment. I have 2 sisters, dead brother, and a divorced mother. He was reminiscing and thinking of every moment as he was writing, making it as detailed as possible. Thinking hard was his second nature, a mug of coffee at 3 a.m. works wonders for his honed brain.
But sadly, he had no coffee tonight. ...only see adventures in puzzles, riddles and the occasional video game. Adventures don't seem to like me, only I like them. He stopped on this line. He was really sleepy now. He had written 26-and-a-half pages.
His alarm clock rang. He was a bit shot off with noticing he slept in the middle of writing. As he sluggishly turned the noisy alarm clock off, another noise ravaged his plans to sleep some more.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
"Wake up, sleepyhead, your package's here."
He ran towards and out the door to get his package: a year's subscription of puzzle magazines. He always had a passion for riddles and puzzles, even stealing the local barber's newspaper just to answer the paper's puzzles. He was bright as a kid. He won math quiz bees in school, ending up with 2nd honors in college graduation. He was successful, ended up as a cryptanalyst in the National Institute of Science and Technology, and was very outstanding for his age and lack of experience.
"Thanks," and Craig bid the mailman goodbye, anxiously looking at his puzzle magazines. He can't wait to answer them. They're why he's on leave, after all.
"What is it, Amy," he almost yelled.
"Aren't you gonna eat?" said a soft voice coming from the door.
"No."
"And stop banging on the door, please, even just for the rest of the night. It's 10 p.m. and your hands are still bulldozing my door."
He went back to writing his biography. ...I live in a 2-story house in Number 78... There goes the door again.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
"What now, Amy? I told you--"
"Your puzzle magazines are here."
"In the middle of the night? Go away, Amy, and DON'T test me. Believe me, don't."
"Okay, okay, relax. Jeez...."
"You should get some anger management seminars or sum--"
"SHUT UP!"
He threw about three books at the door, all at once. After a straight look at the door, he attained his peace. He continued his autobiography.
...in Boston. I work as a cryptanalyst in NIST, but am on a leave as of the moment. I have 2 sisters, dead brother, and a divorced mother. He was reminiscing and thinking of every moment as he was writing, making it as detailed as possible. Thinking hard was his second nature, a mug of coffee at 3 a.m. works wonders for his honed brain.
But sadly, he had no coffee tonight. ...only see adventures in puzzles, riddles and the occasional video game. Adventures don't seem to like me, only I like them. He stopped on this line. He was really sleepy now. He had written 26-and-a-half pages.
His alarm clock rang. He was a bit shot off with noticing he slept in the middle of writing. As he sluggishly turned the noisy alarm clock off, another noise ravaged his plans to sleep some more.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
"Wake up, sleepyhead, your package's here."
He ran towards and out the door to get his package: a year's subscription of puzzle magazines. He always had a passion for riddles and puzzles, even stealing the local barber's newspaper just to answer the paper's puzzles. He was bright as a kid. He won math quiz bees in school, ending up with 2nd honors in college graduation. He was successful, ended up as a cryptanalyst in the National Institute of Science and Technology, and was very outstanding for his age and lack of experience.
"Thanks," and Craig bid the mailman goodbye, anxiously looking at his puzzle magazines. He can't wait to answer them. They're why he's on leave, after all.
♠ ♠ ♠
I took the foul words off. ^^