Fiction Friday :: "Bit by the Bug"

So Day 6 of the 12-Day Plan of Simple Writing Exercises is as follows ::

Select a book on your shelf and pick two chapters at random. Take the first line of one chapter and the last line of the other chapter and write a short story (no more than 1000 words) using those as bookends to your story.

So the book I chose was The Spark: Igniting the Creative Fire That Lives Within Us All, created b Lyn Heward & written by John U. Bacon.  I took the first sentence of chapter 2 and the last sentence of chapter 4.  Then I decided to be crazy and, since the rules of the exercise didn't specify that I couldn't do it, swapped those two lines in my story.  It seemed to work out better.  And I decided to continue exploring Casey Darris and her background with this one.

This story was written 29-31 January 2014.  I'm not sure it'll be expanded upon or not.  And once again, it was based very loosely on situations in my own past.

"Bit by the Bug"

"Now get some rest -- you'll need it for tomorrow."

I blinked blearily at Daya, startled out of the haze my brain had drifted into.  A quick glance at my watch proclaimed it was well past midnight, something my body could wholly attest to.  But this was the way of it, and I had no other way to get around it.

"Nah, I'm fine.  A little caffeine and I'll be goo" -- the sudden yawn was jaw-cracking -- "good to go."

She chuckled and pointed toward the door.  "Get out of here, Case.  I don't want my AD passing out in the middle of her philosophy class."  She pointed up at the stage where one of the stagehands braced a set piece being screwed into place.  "Hey, Doug, what would you do if Casey caught a few z's in your class?"

"Oh, she'd be the example in an elaborate morality tale," he called back with a roll of his eyes.  "But Darris is too damned smart to get caught sleeping in my class.  Which means you're off to dreamland, aren'tcha, Darris?"

Rolling my eyes, I fought the urge to laugh.  "You're an ass, Doug Melchior!"

"And?"

"All right!  I'm going."  I packed my stuff in my messenger bag, then stood and stretched, groaning as my back popped.  "So give for pre-rehearsal meeting, right, Daya?"

She nodded and waved me away, already moving to talk to Doug and the rest of the stage crew about the set pieces left to make.  I stood in the doorway at the back of the house, watching everything still going on whether I was there or not.  It was mesmerizing, and I hadn't even gotten to tech week or the actual performances yet.  But I was beginning to see the final product ghosting over the very realistic behind the scenes stuff I was living at the moment.  I couldn't wait for those two superimposed images to flip in intensity.

The mysterious ambience of the darkened theatre, the crescendo of the music, the kaleidoscope of lights, the mesmerizing figures swirling on the stage had taken hold of my senses.