Clay With Wind

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
Chuck Clay hears a voice while carving (hard) clay.

Submitted: June 16, 2009

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Submitted: June 16, 2009



A young, 26-year-old man named Chuck Clay; stood in front of the grey clay. He could feel the harsh wind blowing on his dark red bandana and tight goggles, as he tried to grind the clay into shape. His mouth tightened into a hard line with irritation at his loud, barking husky’s annoying cry, for attention. “Hello?” called a voice. “What? Who’s there?” asked Chuck.
“Me, I want to help you.”
“H-help me, I don’t need help”
“Oh yes you do.”
“No I don’t… who are you anyway?
“I have no name, you shall call me ‘Wind’” “ok… weird name” muttered Chuck.
Wind scowled, “Well you’re name isn’t supper-duper either Chuck Clay!” she said, Chuck was so stunned that she knew his name, he dropped his chisel. “H-how did you know my name?” posed Chuck. “I also know you’re phone number.” said Wind sarcastically. “Everyone knows you, you’re famous back where I live.” said Wind. Chuck didn’t believe her. This is silly; I’m listening to this voice person when I should be working, thought Chuck.
 “Okay, listen.” snapped Wind, plainly irritated. “there’s this contest and if you win, you’ll get one million dollars and… me!” said Wind, trying to look affectionate. “Umm…” Chuck said scratching the hairy black mustache under his bandana; thinking it over. “I’m not sure I want you.” -After hearing Wind take in a breath to begin a long protest he added- “I mean… I don’t even know what you are.” Wind understood. “Oh, well that’s the awesome part. I can be anything you want me to be.” said Wind, Chuck imagined her grin.
“So you could be a…” Chuck began.
“Let’s not get into the many things I could be.”
“But I…”
“But nothing, I’ve had enough talk, time for these words to be put into action.”
An unseen force dragged Chuck, pulling him to another table with clay on top of it, waiting to be touched. “I’ll help you make your clay in time for the contest.” said Wind, Chuck knew that she pulled him here somehow. The two worked for what seemed to Chuck to be a year, Chuck’s husky even helped by putting his paw into the clay; creating a paw print.
When they finished, Chuck’s hands felt numb and clammy and his eyes had filled with dust, since he forgot to put his goggles back on. He carried the now rock hard clay inside to be glazed; but tripped over his shiny black boots laying beside his door frame. “Chuck get up.” said Wind. Chuck groaned. “Get up!” she said more furiously, Chuck didn’t move; he couldn’t budge; he felt bonded to his wood floor. “GET UP!” said a new female voice.
“Ugh!” I feel awful.” said Chuck. “It was just a bad dream Chuck, you overslept.” said his wife. “But Wind… and… the husky.” gasped Chuck, puzzled. “We don’t own a husky, I can understand it’s chilly; but we own a Labrador; Chuck.” replied what seemed to be his wife. It was a few minutes before Chuck replied, considering every word his wife had spoken.
“I-I could have won one million dollars!” he said sobbing to his wife. His wife just looked at him strangely; “That dream really got to you didn’t it?
The End

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