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. Chupa Cabra and the Chocolate Envelope by BrothersBound (reading fiction TXT) 📖
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/> “Hey Juan.”
The kitchen door swung open and shut like the grate of a crematorium furnace. “I found the dress and its beautiful, Louisa will love it,” said Edgar breathless and beaming, a smile stretching from Mexico to America to Chinatown on his face.
BOOM. A chocolate volcano sent liquid BigMacSpriteFries lava spewing fourth. Pompeii eat your heart out. On and on it came until only dry heaves could be heard, that and the lapping sounds of a dog in feast. It was funny but the only thing Juan could think at that moment was, at least I don’t have to clean this up either.
“Woah gross, you all right little bro, Chupa boy come on lay off.” Edgar’s strong hands pulled his gorging dog away from the dwindling throw up. “Little Pichon you feeling all right, I need to go, the shop closes in thirty minutes, so go keep an eye on the girls and when I come back we’ll celebrate.”
Juan could not meet his brother’s gaze, and when his older brother asked where the envelope was he felt his body flinched.
“Do…….g.”
“Where Juan?”
"TheDogAteItISearISpilledIceCreamSoakedEdgesOf-
TheEnvelopeWentToChangeMyShirtAndWhenICameBackChupaH-
adEatenIt-ISwearOnMyLife." It all came in a rush, one long word sentence, said in the hopes of redemption, in a plea for forgiveness.
Edgar’s strong hands flexed. Out, in, out and in went his fingers. He was a methodical thinker the eldest of the Chavez boys. He had understood what Juan said, and at first he thought it a joke, but then he caught sight of the upside down bowl, and tiny tell tale signs of chocolate on the sides of the table, and he almost believed. But then why the puking? No. His little brother was hiding something and was going to great lengths to cover it up. Juan had somehow lost the envelope, and was now trying to blame it on Chupa.
Edgar had never hit his youngest brother, he had never hit anyone. He was too big and too strong and was always afraid he might break what he loved if he ever let anger control his fists, but he came right to the crossing line this night. One foot stood poised to cross the threshold, and then down would come the fists, and up would come the feet. But he slowly stepped back from both the line he never wanted to cross and away from his brother.
“Come Chupa,” and he walked out the door. Chupa Cabra at his heels.
In a kitchen that smelled of thrown up fast food Juan stood alone, tears streaming from his eyes.
The wind was brisk and cheerful, like a man with a destination and happy to be going there. Edgar followed it accepting the unknown destination only declining its offer of happiness. He was all ready passed anger and thinking of his brothers and Papa. They would be devastated, then they would be confused as to how and why, and then they would be angry, no they would be, what was that American word. Pissed. Yes they would be Pisssssed and less forgiving and gentle than Edgar had been to Juan.
Chupa trailed his master, once in a while stopping at a tree to sniff, then moving on when he found it unsatisfactory to his doggy standards. Finally he found one to his liking, and made Edgar stop and wait and think his troubling thoughts by a green leaved tree as Chupa took his time with an especially uncooperative poop.
Edgar had owned Chupa ever since he was a pup and knew everything about his dog. From how long he liked to lick himself when his coat began to shed, to how long it took Chupa to do numero dos. His dog was usually a fast pooper. So when Chupa finally finished and moved away from his difficult and steaming offering to the night air, Edgar, curious looked over to see what could give mighty Chupasqueezer such a hard time.
What he saw was the most expensive dog crap in the history of dog craps. Green Shreds of paper interspersed with smaller amounts of white grew like Shamrocks from canine fertilizer.
Edgar began to laugh, that little bugger was telling the truth, and then with a grimace he knelt down and scooped up the Guchi priced poop into his hands and headed home. He hadn’t brought a plastic bag with him, and his brothers and Papa would need “Proof”.
Imprint
The kitchen door swung open and shut like the grate of a crematorium furnace. “I found the dress and its beautiful, Louisa will love it,” said Edgar breathless and beaming, a smile stretching from Mexico to America to Chinatown on his face.
BOOM. A chocolate volcano sent liquid BigMacSpriteFries lava spewing fourth. Pompeii eat your heart out. On and on it came until only dry heaves could be heard, that and the lapping sounds of a dog in feast. It was funny but the only thing Juan could think at that moment was, at least I don’t have to clean this up either.
“Woah gross, you all right little bro, Chupa boy come on lay off.” Edgar’s strong hands pulled his gorging dog away from the dwindling throw up. “Little Pichon you feeling all right, I need to go, the shop closes in thirty minutes, so go keep an eye on the girls and when I come back we’ll celebrate.”
Juan could not meet his brother’s gaze, and when his older brother asked where the envelope was he felt his body flinched.
“Do…….g.”
“Where Juan?”
"TheDogAteItISearISpilledIceCreamSoakedEdgesOf-
TheEnvelopeWentToChangeMyShirtAndWhenICameBackChupaH-
adEatenIt-ISwearOnMyLife." It all came in a rush, one long word sentence, said in the hopes of redemption, in a plea for forgiveness.
Edgar’s strong hands flexed. Out, in, out and in went his fingers. He was a methodical thinker the eldest of the Chavez boys. He had understood what Juan said, and at first he thought it a joke, but then he caught sight of the upside down bowl, and tiny tell tale signs of chocolate on the sides of the table, and he almost believed. But then why the puking? No. His little brother was hiding something and was going to great lengths to cover it up. Juan had somehow lost the envelope, and was now trying to blame it on Chupa.
Edgar had never hit his youngest brother, he had never hit anyone. He was too big and too strong and was always afraid he might break what he loved if he ever let anger control his fists, but he came right to the crossing line this night. One foot stood poised to cross the threshold, and then down would come the fists, and up would come the feet. But he slowly stepped back from both the line he never wanted to cross and away from his brother.
“Come Chupa,” and he walked out the door. Chupa Cabra at his heels.
In a kitchen that smelled of thrown up fast food Juan stood alone, tears streaming from his eyes.
The wind was brisk and cheerful, like a man with a destination and happy to be going there. Edgar followed it accepting the unknown destination only declining its offer of happiness. He was all ready passed anger and thinking of his brothers and Papa. They would be devastated, then they would be confused as to how and why, and then they would be angry, no they would be, what was that American word. Pissed. Yes they would be Pisssssed and less forgiving and gentle than Edgar had been to Juan.
Chupa trailed his master, once in a while stopping at a tree to sniff, then moving on when he found it unsatisfactory to his doggy standards. Finally he found one to his liking, and made Edgar stop and wait and think his troubling thoughts by a green leaved tree as Chupa took his time with an especially uncooperative poop.
Edgar had owned Chupa ever since he was a pup and knew everything about his dog. From how long he liked to lick himself when his coat began to shed, to how long it took Chupa to do numero dos. His dog was usually a fast pooper. So when Chupa finally finished and moved away from his difficult and steaming offering to the night air, Edgar, curious looked over to see what could give mighty Chupasqueezer such a hard time.
What he saw was the most expensive dog crap in the history of dog craps. Green Shreds of paper interspersed with smaller amounts of white grew like Shamrocks from canine fertilizer.
Edgar began to laugh, that little bugger was telling the truth, and then with a grimace he knelt down and scooped up the Guchi priced poop into his hands and headed home. He hadn’t brought a plastic bag with him, and his brothers and Papa would need “Proof”.
Imprint
Publication Date: 01-13-2010
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