Exercises for 4.13.10 Part Two

Exercise 52: Practice Writing Good, Clean Prose

Ann did not know how she got this job. It is not that it was a dream come true, it was that it met a need she had—one she did not know she had.

Ann had to get out. This job let her do that. Each day, she left the house, her hair clean, her face done. Those days out of her house saved her. She could leave Tom and his crap there. At work, she was at peace. Sure, there were some times when she got yelled at, but it was not as bad as how Tom spoke to her. “You are dumb. You are fat. You are a dog.” Word cut her. At work, the worse she head was “This is late.”
That day, she left for work. She wore a thin, beige skirt, crisp white blouse and mules. As she crossed the street, a blue coupe made a stop in front of her. The door swung out, a man leaned out and said, “Get in if you want a new life.”

She did not even think. The car sped up, and her life changed.

Exercise 39: The Skeleton

“If I don’t get the money, I am screwed,” Vlad thought. He quickened his steps, looking nervously from left to right. The street was dark, and no one seemed to be around, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was in danger. He looked down at the piece of paper in his hand: 225 North 2nd Ave. He looked up and saw 221. The address should be just up ahead. Two more doors, now he was practically running. He saw the door and burst through it, hoping his journey was at an end.

He walked into a room bathed in yellow light. Brown vinyl chairs, their seats split open like a ripe peach, lined the walls. The walls were covered in peeling wallpaper and several mysterious splotches hovered at head level. Two chairs were occupied by other men, one looking as nervous as Vlad felt, and the other nearly asleep and drooling. There was no receptionist and without any direction on what to do next, Vlad sat gingerly on the edge of a filthy chair.

Minutes passed like hours and just when Vlad thought he might scream in impatience and fear, the door on the far side of the room opened and a small woman with teeth like a ferret and a towering mass of grey hair gestured him in silently.

The room on the other side of the door was much like the waiting room, if a little bit cleaner. The ferret faced woman took a seat behind a large wooden desk, and the inappropriately light thought passed through Vlad’s mind that the was an odd substitute for the Godfather.

“What do you need?” the woman asked. Swallowing his discomfort, Vlad tried to answer just as directly.

“I need $12,000 dollars. I need it by 5 pm tomorrow.”

“What for do you need it?”

“I … I can’t say.”

“Then I will not make this easy. You know of me from a friend or from a rumor. You know that I do not lend money for free. Not even for simple interest.”

“Yes,” Vlad nodded. “I know there will be a price.”

“Not a price, so much as a favor,” she said, her voice dropping. “If I tell you what it is, you have already agreed to do it.” Vlad shifted in his seat and looked around at the dingy walls for an answer that wasn’t there. He felt a tremor pass through him.

“I accept. I need to see the money first,” he said, mustering up his courage.
Ferret-face smiled at his courage and he wondered how old she really was. He thought somewhere between 40 and ... death. She pulled a small stack of bills out of the desk drawer and placed it in fron of him. “Then it is settled. You will deliver a message for me this night.”

“That’s all?” He twitched with impatience to leave.

“Yes. That is all. The instructions are included. There is only one thing. Do not read the message.” She stood, and indicated the door. “You may leave.”