So…here’s the first bit of what I am hoping will become the impetus to actually, finally, finishing a story.
Peter dropped the remainder of his shopping on the front door mat and dug around in his pocket for his keys. Once found, he shrugged the paper grocery sack back onto his shoulder and opened the lock and found himself greeted by a pirate pointing a lethal-looking sword directly at his face.
He walked around the pirate, ignoring his curses and dropped his groceries onto the kitchen counter and began unpacking. As the pirate swore, Peter carefully organized the contents of his freezer to accommodate another week’s worth of frozen dinners. Once everything was in its proper place, he returned to the living room, once again ignoring the pirate, ducking the parrot swooping around his ceiling fan.
Peter sighed again.
He crossed the living room and into his office, opening the heavy wooden pocket doors. The parrot took advantage of the new airspace and dove between the open doors. The parrot settled quietly onto Peter’s desk and began poking its beak through his files. Behind him, the pirate had settled onto the couch and was flipping through a copy of Time.
Peter crossed to a large shelf that took up the majority of space in his office. He glanced at the glass jars lining the shelves and sighed yet again. The maid must have bumped them again– this was the third time this month. Granted, he wasn’t complaining about the naked woman he’d found last week— she’d been far more pleasant than the giant squid on Tuesday.
Peter carefully snaked his hand around and through the army of jars to upright the three fallen comrades– marked “Adventure”, “Swash” and “Buckle”. He carefully scraped up the spilled contents onto a spare file folder and blew them into the fire.
Behind him, the pirate disappeared in a burst of smoke. The parrot lingered for a moment longer, uttered a final, judgemental “SQUAWK” and disappeared in the same fashion.
He was really going to have to speak to the maid.