Wednesday, August 05, 2009

Jane Eyre and the Jackalope

(In an effort to hop on the classic literature/monster bandwagon (See: "Pride and Prejudice and Zombies" and the upcoming "Sense and Sensibility and Sea Monsters") I present you with the opening lines to my new literary masterpiece, which I expect to earn me the adoration of the adoring masses and a honking big advance within the next week or so.)

Chapter 1

There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. Which was much lamented, because Eliza had spotted tracks the night before, and left out some whiskey to inebriate the beast, but now the chance of a hunt seemed lost. We had been wandering, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning (poor cover, that, and a waste of time, since the creature rarely rose before midday); but since dinner (Mrs. Reed, when there was no company, dined early) the cold winter wind had brought with it clouds so sombre, and a rain so penetrating, that further hunting was now out of the question.

I was glad of it: I was a miserable shot, and the sorry little sawed-off shotgun I had received as a hand-me-down from John paled in comparison to his gleaming new rifle, or Georgiana's sleek crossbow. I never liked long hunts, especially on chilly afternoons: dreadful to me was the coming home in the raw twilight, with nipped fingers and toes, an empty sack and a heart saddened by the chidings of Bessie, the nurse, and humbled by the consciousness of my physical inferiority to Eliza, John, and Georgiana Reed.


Karen Murphy said...

If there's a way that you can have the jackalope wear evening attire at some point, I'll be very happy.

Dad said...

In fact, the evening attire would be necessary for getting the film rights.