Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. Plastic Cups and Kaleidoscopes by ShinSolo (the reading strategies book TXT) 📖
- Author: ShinSolo
Book online «Plastic Cups and Kaleidoscopes by ShinSolo (the reading strategies book TXT) 📖». Author ShinSolo
Jules:
Growing up, the plastic cups were always stained kaleidoscopic, but no one ever seemed to notice. It was just one of the side effects of having Jules as a younger brother.
The house always seemed too quiet, except for when he screamed, and water colored waterfalls spilled from his fingers every time the shaking of his hands caused the lines to blur against the canvas.
Seemingly mute, completely deaf, and only eight, Jules seemed to live solely for the moments when he could play God, lived for the sight of creation, the feel of new crayons moving over whitewashed walls.
Ash:
On the morning of his tenth birthday, Ash awoke feeling older than a ten-year-old should. He loved his brother, but often wished him dead. He understood almost as much as he couldn’t comprehend, but it didn’t really seem to matter.
Jules left sticky fingerprints on everything he touched, including across the worn wood of Ash’s Jay Jr. Acoustic. He pealed the stars--even Mars--from the panels of the ceiling.
But despite how nauseating the smell of acrylic, Ash knew better than to deny Jules his pseudo-happiness. Only took the back of mother’s hand, thrice, to master the harsh realm of adulthood.
Mother:
“Who knows these things,” was mother’s automated response to 88% of the questions asked. She found their audacity infuriating, even more than the stares. It wasn’t her boys’ fault, wasn’t fair they shouldered the blame. And as sad as it seemed, she desperately hoped Jules really was as oblivious to the world as he appeared.
It wasn’t all bad. Hard? Yes. But not bad. Sometimes she’d stand in the shadows, watching Ash trying to teach Jules guitar. She’d watch the child’s attention drift then refocus on his brother, and she’d smile.
Sometimes she really did believe everything would be okay.
Publication Date: 08-04-2010
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