Short StoryThe challenge on Storiesonline.com was to use the writing style of a historic author (the first one used Juvenal, the second used Robert Lewis Stevenson) and the lyrics of a Beach Boys song (Little Surfer Girl and Kokomo, respectively) to write a story. I was surprised at how clever they turned out to be and got a sudden, short idea for one myself. It took about a day to write. Many thanks to Stultus and Marsh Alien for inspiration! Go to SOL and read the Endless Summer Universe! |
Richard Burbage was a renowned actor, a member of the King's Men - the resident theatre troupe at the Globe Theatre - and a personal friend of William Shakespeare. Burbage was one of the actors who gathered scripts and pooled the information that became the original folios of Shakespeare's works. In a recent excavation of the Globe's site - after it's fifth and final fire - a trunk was found. In it were many of Burbage's personal affects including personal letters, dialogue notes and several well worn codpieces. There was also a well-preserved folio of manuscripts, letters and notes now believe to have belonged to Shakespeare. The following letter was among those documents and is believed to be at least part of Shakespeare's inspiration for Romeo & Juliet. * * * * * * * To mine own true Rometta: How I count the hours from when I left your side like nightfall until I see your sun-like face bring dawn to my day. Wouldn't it be nice, I tell myself, if we were older and we didn't have to wait so long for the muttering of our foolish, feuding families to cease as our love blooms like sweet romettas - for that is what I call roses now in my mind; their sweet scent reminds me of you. I yearn for the hours to pass and my return to fair Verona and the day we can unite our two houses into one. And wouldn't it be nice to live together, in the kind of world where we belong only to each other and not to the names of Capessgue and Montolette. And you know its going to make it that much better in our hearts when we can say goodnight and stay together, our lives joined in true love's passion as our bodies were in the light of that blessed moon. I can still hear the sweet silver sound of your voice as my ears drank its musical cries like the wine we consumed together. Your tender lips carried the same wine tipped entrancement to mine and unsatisfied I did leave your side for only when our faithful vows have been exchanged will I truly find satisfaction. The heights of bliss uncharted we found together on your moon swept balcony and yet my heart knows it to be a candle before the starlight of the joys your body will teach mine. Ah, my beauteous flower Rometta, wouldn't it be nice if we could wake up in the morning when the day is new and, after having spent the day together, wrapped in each other's arms, hold each other, again, the whole night through! I would lay you in sweet repose and, like the glove you wear, I would caress each newly named part of thee. Here, I seek a hand, there a foot, an arm, a face - oh such a face that did ever betwixt such a poor man as I! I would cast off my glove and thine and happy times together we've been spending enraptured by each other's boundless bounty! I wish that every kiss was never ending and yet gladly I withdraw my kisses for only then may I kiss your honey coated lips anew. Wouldn't it be nice? Maybe if we think and wish and hope and pray it might come true, then say Jove laughs at lover's promises given under stars and sealed in sword, blood and the mixed nectars of passions! My dearest baby, then there wouldn't be a single thing we couldn't do for if the Gods themselves bless this union, then the Fathers of Capessgue and Montolette must surely bow to the Veronian Prince. We could be married! And then we'd be happy; Oh how jealous I am of the word! Wouldn't it be nice? I ache, I throb with need of you; know you it seems the more we talk about it, it only makes it worse to live without it. But still, let's talk about it. Wouldn't it be nice to share our tender forget-me-nots again and again? And, like a wanton bird flights in and out of its lover's nest, I would take wing with you! But soft, I come now to my gist. Send for me at 9 of the clock tomorrow if you are of my same mind and I will come hither. Our Father's noble intentions lag behind our righteous purposes. By what soft light the morning brings, I will lay out such gentle affects and the deepest heights of my great affection for you, and if thou wilt, make a wife of you again. I await your answer as the peak of my joy! And here, see on this very page are the tears of passion I have released at the thought of your sweet visage! Good night my baby, sleep tight my baby. Flights of angels sing thee to thy rest, my baby. Thy poorest slave Julio * * * * * * Thank you for reading the whole thing. If you want to send me feedback, go here please and thank you! (The box is bigger than it looks, really.) If you prefer to rate, send me a 1 (hated it) to 5 (loved it) and thanks! |