Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Prosperity (05/11/06)
By Daniel Johnson
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When the anthem was done, everyone at the funeral sat in their perspective seats. Winston remained standing at attention. He hadnít worn the uniform, nor had he experienced the regimented training for years; but felt under certain self-scrutiny. What of scrutiny; self imposed or otherwise-
What is your major malfunction?
Donít you even think of walking on that grass?
Scrutiny was like a drill sergeant over his shoulder- like the brim of a hat protecting him from the agony of the invasive sun, guarding him from exposition. Scrutiny was taught perfectly, in one-liners. He was privileged to have walked that narrow road. When the grass would get trampled under foot, he would not condemn man or console tundra. He was only affected by duty.
The highest he knew was his conscience. He prospered, you could say. He took what was given to him. He provided what he could through his long and eventful life. His friends now were beginning to die off. He seemed to express very little emotion at their funeral.
He was a steady ship, slow to turn.
He was hard to convince otherwise, he was conscientious.
When he spoke at the funeral he spoke very little. He would listen, engage with eyebrows and nods. He stood tall and everyone understood that he had dignity to spare. No one hugged him, but just patted him on the shoulder and some, whom he had never seen before, would pat him on the head. He would look at them, almost surprised. One lady had the audacity to come in close to his face. At such a function, this is not only rude but tempting, oh so tempting. His mouth watered because he could smell the chocolate. He stood at attention as the kind woman talked- gabbled out chocolaty words. He could not hold back the urge. Then it happened, it happened mid-sentence. Between two milk chocolaty words, he began to lick her face. He licked her face until she backed away. He looked around as some sneered. Then, he sat down.
Winston is my bossesí dog.
Winston went to a funeral for Truman, his friend.
Whenever my boss talks of Winston, he prospers.
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