Near the end of January, I entered a short story writing competition. There were about 3 or 4 rounds where people were given a random genre, subject, and character trait then given about 2 weeks to write a short story. Mine had to be a spy genre involving buried treasure and a swimming pool service technician. Sadly I didn't make the next round but feel like it was a good exercise for me and also got some good feedback.
Rather than show the story that I submitted, I'd like to instead show a small snippet that I enjoyed writing but eventually had to cut out due to page limitations. A little background in case it might be confusing. Special agents Ethan and Booker are trying to bust a guy for being involved with the theft of gold bars. In order to get close enough to plant bugs around his house, they come up with a plan to sabotage his outdoor pool.
From the backside of the estate, Ethan, dressed in all black, dropped down from the wall. After making sure there was no one around, he removed his backpack to pull out a pair of night vision goggles. He whispered, "I'm on the estate grounds."
Rather than show the story that I submitted, I'd like to instead show a small snippet that I enjoyed writing but eventually had to cut out due to page limitations. A little background in case it might be confusing. Special agents Ethan and Booker are trying to bust a guy for being involved with the theft of gold bars. In order to get close enough to plant bugs around his house, they come up with a plan to sabotage his outdoor pool.
From the backside of the estate, Ethan, dressed in all black, dropped down from the wall. After making sure there was no one around, he removed his backpack to pull out a pair of night vision goggles. He whispered, "I'm on the estate grounds."
Booker's voice transmitted through Ethan's earpiece. "Do you have a visual on the pool?"
Ethan put on the goggles and switched them on. He winced at the overwhelming brightness of green that seared into his eyes. They took a moment to adjust before he could comprehend the pool on the other side of the vast lawn.
"Yeah," said Ethan.
"How far is it?"
"Like a stone's throw away? Give or take?" said Ethan, while he walked down to the pool.
"How far is it?"
"Like a stone's throw away? Give or take?" said Ethan, while he walked down to the pool.
"How many meters?
"Meters?"
"Yes," Booker replied.
"Why meters?"
The earpiece crackled at what Ethan assumed to be a sigh from Booker. "I want to be accurate in our report. 'A stone’s throw' is kind of a broad measurement."
"No," said Ethan. "I mean why are you using the metric system?
"The majority of the world uses the metric system," said Booker. "I figured it’ll make our report more universal."
"Booker. We’re an American agency. Why should our American, usually confidential, reports have anything besides the American standard units of measurement?"
Ethan's earpiece was completely silent for a moment before Booker replied back. "How many feet are you from the pool?"
"Well zero, now"
"Well zero, now"
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