On our way back from Ohio, my friend and I were talking about writing. "It was a dark and stormy night" was said, to which she said "except it wasn't dark or stormy." I thought that could be the fun start of a story, so here we go.
He wished it was a dark and stormy night, or at least dark and night, but it was the middle of the afternoon, and the sun shone brightly in the cloudless blue sky. He sighed and looked at the clothes that lay on his bed, longing to change into them, but knowing he had to wait.
"When will it be time?" he asked his mother as he walked into the kitchen.
"Soon. You just need to find something to do to make the time go by faster." She told him with a knowing smile.
"If I had a time manipulation gun I could make it be time." He said, tipping his head to the side as he considered his options.
He returned to his room and pulled out his Lego's, quickly snapping the blocks together to create a gun shaped object. He walked back into the kitchen and pointed the gun at the clock.
"What are you doing?" His mother asked as she pulled a tray of food from the oven.
"This is my time manipulation gun."
"How does it work?" She asked.
"You point it at a clock and it moves time ahead to when you want it to be."
"Hmm. What if you like what you are doing and don't want time to move?"
He wrinkled his nose. "I hadn't thought of that." He paused for a moment. "If you like what you are doing, you can use it to freeze time."
"Interesting. A device to speed up or slow down time. Is it working?"
"What do you mean?"
"Have you used it to speed up or slow down time?"
He rolled his eyes. "It's just a concept, not a real working model."
"Oh." She looked at the clock. "You better go get changed. You need to leave soon."
He looked at the clock, surprised to see how much time had passed while he had worked on the time gun. He returned to his room and changed into the clothes that were laid out on his bed.
"Don't forget these." His mom handed him a flashlight and a bag. "Have fun!!!"
"Thanks, Mom."
He skipped out the front door and made his way up the block. The sun had set, giving him the dark night, without storms, that he had been waiting for. He stopped in front of a small house whose porch light was on. Squaring he shoulders, he marched up to the door and knocked.
The door creaked open. Screams and eerie howls spilled into the night air. He swallowed, held put his bag and cried out "Trick or treat!"
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