I have been commanded by my superior to post a series of quick story-esque concepts that I and my fellow Portland Studios co-artists will be doing daily as a "creative excercise" of sorts. Every day, for a specific allotted amount of time, we will be given a specific set of criteria from which to put down a quick situation/story idea/concept as well as any sketches. It's kind of a foreign land to me, so bear with me. The whole point of the "experiment" is to see whether it helps our corporate creativenessishesqueness. er...
Here we go. The following is today's:
The red rubber kickball pinged off the face of the kid with the butt-cut and the oversized gym uniform, making his usually puffy, squinty eyes squint even tighter.
“Jeeeeeez,” he breathed out, cupping his face in his hands.
A group of boys erupted with tilting-back laughter.
“Oh, sorry Nedward, we didn’t see you there! You all right?” one of the shorter boys laughed out.
Edward half-turned away from the laughing mob, looking in his hands to find blood dripping from his nose.
“Jeez, Nedward, maybe you should work on the whole nose-picking thing—Looks like you made your nose start bleeding this time! You find a piece of gold?”
Again, the mob roared with laughter.
Edward hunched and walked, with longer-than-usual strides, toward the locker room, his smooth, bowl-shaped hair shaking and bouncing with each step. Through the echoing sneaker-squeaking and multi-colored archs of balls, he made his way to the big metal door of the locker room.
“Hey Nedward! Whereya thinkyer goin’!” Coach blurted out across the gym, his hands on his hips and his head tilted back.
What do YOU care? he thought as he heaved open the heavy grey door.
The door shut behind him, instantly muffling the yelling and screeching and ball-pounding. Edward walked past the rows of grey lockers and toward the back of the locker room by the sinks.
When he rounded the corner, he jerked himself to a stop. There was a boy standing by the row of sinks, his head tilted back, staring at the ceiling. He was huge, at least 6 feet tall. He turned his bent neck and looked down at Edward out of the corner of his eye. “You got a nose bleed too?” He said in a low, nasally voice.
Cupping his nose in his bloodied hands, Edward replied, “You have one?”
“What does it look like?” The big boy said in a annoyed, pathetic tone. He put a wad of toilet paper on his nose and looked up at the ceiling again. “That’s what I get for picking my freakin’ nose.”