robertd
New Member
Here are the first few pages of a novel for children I wrote.
Clovis turned his head toward the noise the nail makes on the nail file. Why this noise in particular? Well, simply because there were no nail files on this side of the Hedge. But there were glutton-sands able to swallow one, and even two, Clovis in just one bite! Fortunately for him, Clovis could spot a glutton-sand as surely as a red hair female fairy could spot a haircutter!
Of course, he would rather forget about this very day when his friend Zelda had to pull him out of one of theses monsters of sand before he was completely gobbled up. Clovis had lost his shoes, his socks and half of his trousers.
‘They look dangerous like this, but they only want to play,’ Zelda had explained between two bursts of laughters.
Clovis was missing Zelda’s laugh.
He turned his head toward the tentacles of sand that were idly lifting themselves above the ground before falling back. He shrugged his shoulders and went his way. He had not come here to play.
Clovis Axehead would soon turn twenty. Two years earlier he had let his mustache growing but had cut it very quickly afterward because every morning, his mirror was telling him his mustache was making him look older. So the following year he had let his dark hair growing too. But he had to take care of it, to cut it, to wash it, to comb it. And his soup was constantly complaining that a hair in the plate was not very appetizing!
Therefore Clovis had no mustache, his black hair was cut short and he was very happy with it.
He couldn’t say the same about this day that had really started badly. The whole week had in fact started badly.
On Monday, Clovis was coming back from Caroline‘s home when he realized he had lost the key of his own house. Fortunately he was able to enter by the window he had left open. And thus he was able to go to sleep and have nice dreams.
The following day, while he was trying to chase a bee that had entered by the window he still had not closed the night before, Clovis had set fire to his most beautiful shirt. The one he was ironing and was always wearing while visiting Caroline. Luckily it was not his shirt, but Narcisse Claude Émile François Dureflet de Lamarre, who had foolishly lent it to Clovis, was now willing to provoke him in a duel.
And Wednesday, the unthinkable had happened. Clovis had failed a magidecontamination (or a magic exSpelling as he was supposed to say!) It was because of the music his key had made while bouncing on the floor of the Steamy Potion. The key was the one he had lost two days earlier and the tune had reminded him of the one the bell hanging on Caroline’s door does. This tune had distracted him at the wrong time and the crystalithe he had almost grabbed in his hand, had exploded. Luckily it was a very small crystalithe, a crystalithe from a beginner sorcerer, a crystalithe of less than a quarter unit. And the explosion was a minuscule one. Surely not enough to produce this famous magic hurricane everybody secretly dreamt to see. But all the same, it was very much humiliating for a magiCleaner of Clovis’s standing!
Clovis turned his head toward the noise the nail makes on the nail file. Why this noise in particular? Well, simply because there were no nail files on this side of the Hedge. But there were glutton-sands able to swallow one, and even two, Clovis in just one bite! Fortunately for him, Clovis could spot a glutton-sand as surely as a red hair female fairy could spot a haircutter!
Of course, he would rather forget about this very day when his friend Zelda had to pull him out of one of theses monsters of sand before he was completely gobbled up. Clovis had lost his shoes, his socks and half of his trousers.
‘They look dangerous like this, but they only want to play,’ Zelda had explained between two bursts of laughters.
Clovis was missing Zelda’s laugh.
He turned his head toward the tentacles of sand that were idly lifting themselves above the ground before falling back. He shrugged his shoulders and went his way. He had not come here to play.
Clovis Axehead would soon turn twenty. Two years earlier he had let his mustache growing but had cut it very quickly afterward because every morning, his mirror was telling him his mustache was making him look older. So the following year he had let his dark hair growing too. But he had to take care of it, to cut it, to wash it, to comb it. And his soup was constantly complaining that a hair in the plate was not very appetizing!
Therefore Clovis had no mustache, his black hair was cut short and he was very happy with it.
He couldn’t say the same about this day that had really started badly. The whole week had in fact started badly.
On Monday, Clovis was coming back from Caroline‘s home when he realized he had lost the key of his own house. Fortunately he was able to enter by the window he had left open. And thus he was able to go to sleep and have nice dreams.
The following day, while he was trying to chase a bee that had entered by the window he still had not closed the night before, Clovis had set fire to his most beautiful shirt. The one he was ironing and was always wearing while visiting Caroline. Luckily it was not his shirt, but Narcisse Claude Émile François Dureflet de Lamarre, who had foolishly lent it to Clovis, was now willing to provoke him in a duel.
And Wednesday, the unthinkable had happened. Clovis had failed a magidecontamination (or a magic exSpelling as he was supposed to say!) It was because of the music his key had made while bouncing on the floor of the Steamy Potion. The key was the one he had lost two days earlier and the tune had reminded him of the one the bell hanging on Caroline’s door does. This tune had distracted him at the wrong time and the crystalithe he had almost grabbed in his hand, had exploded. Luckily it was a very small crystalithe, a crystalithe from a beginner sorcerer, a crystalithe of less than a quarter unit. And the explosion was a minuscule one. Surely not enough to produce this famous magic hurricane everybody secretly dreamt to see. But all the same, it was very much humiliating for a magiCleaner of Clovis’s standing!
