One Paragraph Story - Creative Writing Assignment - Basically true

 The last Basilian Father

This Paragraph a False Assumption?

 

An ancient priest in an over-starched cassock makes a special noise when he shuffles across Assumption Hall’s wooden floors.  I listen while I pick the basement door’s antique lock. Click. I am in.  Rotting hand-made wooden steps against the massive fieldstone wall.  Shaky. I make it safely onto the heavily pock-marked basement floor.  A string of Edison era light bulbs hangs above. Clothesline style. I am facing a moss-lined tunnel that slopes toward the Detroit River. An iron bar gate blocks the way. Sigh. Another lock to pick. I hear the priest. He is at the top of the stairs. Cough. Door slams. Lights off.

First Version (too long)

Stephen Weir 

Weir031, 4^th year Creative Writing

An ancient priest in an over starched white cassock makes a special noise when he shuffles across the wooden floors of Assumption Hall. “Poke me hard if you hear him comin’,” I whispered to my look-out.

“You are out-of-date my friend. There are no Basilians left!” she laughs.

 I am picking the basement door’s antique lock. Click. We are in.  Rotting hand-made wooden steps against the massive fieldstone wall are next.  Shakey.  We made it safely onto the pock-marked cement floor.  

A string of Eddison era light bulbs hangs above us clothesline style.

We are starring at a moss-covered tunnel that slopes down towards the Detroit River. An iron bar gate blocks the way. Sigh. Another lock to pick.

We hear the priest. He is at the top of the stairs. Cough. Door slams. The lock clicks. Lights off. 

“I am so hungry,” he rasps.

By Stephen Weir