Thursday, June 14, 2012

Writer's Block

It was a dull afternoon on Hill Street in Brandyn Wyatt's small apartment. Brandyn wrote short stories for Writer's Block Magazine, a magazine for writers in need for inspiration. Usually, he would just look at something outside or read a newspaper to find something to write about. But there was a serious problem; Brandyn was getting writer's block himself! He had read the newspaper, went on a walk, cartwheeled through the nearby park, and even made up a song about his fridge. But after all of that, he had nothing except a headache. So he went to the elevator to go outside and bang his head against a tree.
When the elevator door opened, he saw a monkey sitting on the ground. He cautiously looked at the monkey, seeing that it had a collar on it.
"Who owns a monkey in this town?" he asked himself.
Slowly, he reached his hand out to the collar, and held up the tag so he could read it.
It said:
Hi, I'm Lizzie
Please return to 5694 Dew Street
Brandyn, confused and dazed, picked up the monkey and brought her back into his apartment. Surprisingly, the monkey was not that heavy. He brought the monkey into his bathroom and weighed her. The scale read at 13 pounds. Brandyn grabbed his laptop and typed '12 pound domesticated monkey' into the search engine. The first result he clicked on. It had a long list of monkeys that you could buy and keep as a pet. He only found a few that could weigh 12 pounds. Of those, he looked at the picture and descriptions, and finally found what kind of monkey the one in his apartment was; a white faced capuchin. Brandyn found out that it ate mostly fruit, so he went into his cramped kitchen. Rummaging through his fridge, he found a mango, a bag of grapes, and three bananas.
He went into the bathroom to get the monkey, to find that she wasn't there. He looked all over and couldn't seem to find her. He had a sudden sinking feeling in his stomach. He had left the balcony door open! Quickly, Brandyn went out on the balcony looking for Lizzie. She was crawling up to the apartment window above his. Without a thought, he ran back into his apartment and got a broom. Then desperately, he swept it back and forth, trying to get Lizzie to fall into his arms or grab the broom or something! Anything but getting in the neighbor's apartment. Before he could realize what was going on, Lizzie was falling, and so was the broom. Choosing a living thing over household cleaning supplies, he caught Lizzie in his arms, the broom smacking him in the face, mainly eye area. His vision went black for a few seconds, and as it came back, he heard a loud crack. He looked down to see an utterly destroyed broom scattered in the street. Luckily, there were no cars or other things to damage in sight.
Holding Lizzie close, so to not let her escape again, Brandyn walked back into the apartment, slamming the balcony door shut. He went to his freezer, grabbed an ice pack, and held it up to his face where the broom smacked it. He gave Lizzie some grapes from the bag, and sliced the mango in half, giving half to Lizzie and the other half he ate.
Brandyn needed to get to the pet store.Surprisingly, Brandyn still had a small dog carrier from when he had to take care of his sister's chihuahua for three weeks. He put some grapes in the back of the carrier, and set it on the floor. Lizzie slowly walked towards it, she went in the carrier and started munching the grapes. Brandyn quickly closed the door, and Lizzie started making a high pitched squealing noise. It was horrid noise, but he had to get the carrier downstairs to his bike and strap it on the back. So he got some bungee cords and went to the elevator. Fortunately, there was no one in the elevator. He quickly pressed the lobby button. The squealing echoed immensely in the closed elevator. When he got down to the lobby, he quickly got outside and found his bike. He strapped the carrier on the back and was off.
The pet store was only about a mile away, but with all of the stoplights and the many staring bystanders and onlookers, it seemed much, much longer. Brandyn almost ran into the shrubs by the side of the pet store. He locked up his bike and unhooked the carrier. Trying to act as inconspicuous as possible, Brandyn walked into a pet store with a screeching monkey inside a small dog carrier. He walked up to an employee in the store. He was a tall man with a mustache and green eyes. He was holding a bulky bag of dog food in his arms. Brandyn opened the carrier door and Lizzie sprang out, immediately quieting down in the presence of the pet store employee, whose name was Paul according to his name tag. Paul dropped the bag of cat food, the kibbles showering the floor.
"You found her." Paul said surprisedly.
Paul introduced himself to Brandyn and closed the store for what he told his customers his lunch break. Brandyn told Paul how he had found Lizzie and everything that had happened. Paul then told Brandyn why he was so glad he found Lizzie.
"You see, Lizzie and Thom, her owner, used to come here a lot. He would pick up specially ordered food and things for Lizzie, since she isn't the usual cat or dog. Anyways, Thom was here with Lizzie when some idiots robbed the store and took the animals too. I don't know how Lizzie got away and survived in the city, but I'm just glad she is okay. I don't know how she got in that elevator either." Paul remarked.
"I never told you she came out of the elevator" Brandyn said confused.
Brandyn, trying to look normal, said he had to go, grabbed Lizzie and the carrier and quickly left the store. He grabbed his cellphone out of his pocket, ready to call the police. But somehow, the audio recorder on his phone had turned on in his pocket, and it had recorded the whole conversation. He quickly strapped the carrier on his bike and rode to the police station. He rode his bike as fast as he could to the police station. Panting and completely out of breath, he hopped off his bike and locked it up. He opened the carrier and picked up Lizzie, and they walked in the front door of the police station.
Brandyn went to the front desk, introduced himself, and asked where he could go to talk to a detective. The receptionist gave him a strange look and then directed him to a Dt. Raynor energetically.
"I cannot believe you found it sir! Right this way Mr. Wyatt!" the receptionist said, excitedly.
        The receptionist opened a door and ushered him in. A man was sitting at a dull desk with a bright desk lamp shining on a some papers the man was scribbling away on.
"Why, you found her!" detective Raynor exclaimed as he got up and forgot about the papers he was working on."
       Detective Raynor introduced himself and shook Brandyn's hand. He showed Brandyn a file of Paul Wilsyn, the man he had met at the pet store. From what was in the file, there had been clues leading detective Raynor to believe that Mr. Wilsyn had been illegally shipping and selling endangered animals, but there was never any solid proof.
     "I have this recording you may want to listen to." Brandyn commented to the detective.
     The next day Mr. Wilsyn was arrested by detective Raynor with the help of Brandyn's evidence and Lizzie. Lizzie was sent to the city zoo to be cared for, and Brandyn went back to his apartment. Although he was slightly crestfallen that, after all the excitement, he had to return to his daily life, he was officially free of writer's block. And he had a great story to tell.

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