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The Seduction (standard:mystery, 3623 words) | |||
Author: Hulsey | Added: Jul 14 2003 | Views/Reads: 5444/2826 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
A complex twenties mystery. | |||
As I write this my heart is heavy, my conscience burdened by the enormity of my misdemeanour. Gluttony is an evil distraction, and the cause of my misfortune. It all started on what should have been a wonderful day in June. At the age of twenty-five, I ought to have been indulging in such pleasures as the Charleston, Douglas Fairbanks, Buster Keaton or Lois Armstrong, but I was not. My idol was the great author, F Scott Fitzgerald. His novel, The Great Gatsby had just been published, and after reading it several times, my mind was made up. My vocation in life was to follow my mentor into the world of literature. I was fortunate enough to have wealthy parents, who encouraged me greatly and allowed me to pursue my dream. The cruise on the great ship the Ocean Pearl was my mother's idea. The atmosphere, she stated, would enhance my writing qualities and would afford me the solitude needed to write my novel. So it was that I alighted this spectacular 20,000 tonne, fifty-foot liner in Plymouth, the embarking point of many a great sailor. I was shown to my splendid cabin, and after navigating around the ship, I settled down to fulfil my desire. Two hours later, and a huge pile of writing paper lay at my feet; the rejections of my toil. I decided to have a stroll on the deck and clear my head, and that is when my chance encounter with Richard Sherman occurred. I leant over the railing, the sea breeze refreshing my senses. I saw the shadow, and the aroma of cigar smoke irritated me. I turned my head to see an elegantly attired man. He was so handsome with his slicked back hair, groomed moustache and captivating grey eyes. A spark of recognition registered, and I battled with my aching head to recall where I had seen him before. “Good morning. Wonderful isn't it?” He offered his hand and the realisation numbed me. I must have seemed like an overexcited child to him as I stood in awe, my mouth agape. “Richard Sherman.” “David Musgrove,” I stuttered, as I continued my handshake. “You can leave go of my hand now, David.” “I...I watch all of your films, Mr Sherman,” I stuttered. “Really, I hate Hollywood. Theatre is where I thrive, playing to a live audience. Now that's real acting... Tell me, what do you do, David?” “I'm a writer. Well, I'm aspiring to be.” “How wonderful, a fine career choice. Who are you travelling with?” “I'm on my own. My parents thought the setting of a cruise ship would spark me into being a literary genius. It doesn't appear to be working I'm afraid.” The actor was reassuring. “Never give up young man. Map out your ambition and no matter how many rejections you get, stick at it. I speak from experience, believe me.” “You were rejected?” “Many times. Many times... It's been a pleasure conversing with you David. I must go. I have a possessive wife who will not allow me five minutes to myself... Why don't you join us for dinner tonight? We're dining at the Captain's table.” “Are you serious, me dining with the great Richard Sherman? I'll be delighted.” “Good, then that's settled. A good morning to you.” The great actor gave me a buzz that morning, so much that I wrote the opening chapter of my novel. Just meeting the actor had filled me with such ambition and self-confidence. After umpteen attempts at my bow tie, I looked in the mirror and saw a Click here to read the rest of this story (446 more lines)
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