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Fictional Writings of Elleander Grey


  • Elleander crossed his fingers as he walked across the street to the barbershop. Once inside he set down a deck of cards on the glass table where magazines gave nasty looks to the customers. He left the shop and crossed the street again only to enter another barbershop. He removed his pocket watch from his jacket and set it on the register counter. He left the shop and bought a newspaper without reading the headlines. He tucked it under his arm and walked a block south of the two shops. The concrete gray faded into Elleander’s mind like a smoky day in November. The cracks tore through the dusty pathway, and forgotten pennies reminded the cracks that they had reached the end of their existence. Elleander stopped under an incredible building named “the walking tower.” He tried to glance upward but the building exploded into his face until he couldn’t see. He passed the wretched moment into another one where a taxicab stops and wrestles Elleander for money. Fortunately Elleander had the right phrase for the occasion. “No, thanks.” Meanwhile, Elleander decided to think: When I was young my fondest memory was when my mother used to call me “skribs.” Skribs was short for “skibby” which she called me when I used to scribble cartoon characters in my notebook all day. The nickname didn’t stick, but regardless I remember it. Ever since I’ve had an affinity for black and white cartoons. Sketch cartoons are like music without vocals. They give you the idea and the story without a definitive color or giving of the main idea. My favorite character from my childhood sketching was oversize man called “rollo.” He had a ‘50’s style hair-cut and biceps the size of china. I never took the time to give him a special power. When I was child I thought all cartoon characters had a special power that made them unique. But for some reason I didn’t assign him one. The only thing unique about “rollo” was his name because one day I asked my Mom what I should call him, and she took one look at his hair and said, “how about …” And “rollo” was so… But now, if I had a choice I'd give him the ability to play and sing like robert johsnson and chuck berry.
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