The Silver-Light Theory
He dived his feather-pen into the small bowl of dark-black ink. Mr. Silver-Light was on the verge of making the best story in the world. He had been writing for nearly eight-years now. Mr. Silver-Light was a poor industrial worker who never got time write. His true desire was to write a beautiful story about a young man you traveled all around the world and kept his much more odd marvels in a travel journal.
He was deep into writing, sweat dripped from the corners of his forehead. He and the quill were one. He began to drop drips of ink onto his rough but thin paper. He wrote so fast he nearly set the quill on fire. Mr. Silver-light dipped the quill into the small ink bowl. But no ink was in the bowl. It was late at night; Mr. Silver-Light had gained a slight case of insomnia, which developed from the love and passion he out in his work.
He had to find more ink quick or he might forget what was he to write. He slammed the door of the room in which he lived and rented. Mr. Silver-Light inhabited the home of Ms. Jenkins, an old Civil-War widow. She rented the rooms in her mansion to many immigrants of many types, for Mr. Silver-Light was originally born in Sweden.
“What is that racket Mr. Silver-Light?”, Ms. Jenkins squealed. Mr. Silver-Light turned around to find Ms. Jenkins rubbing the bottom of pig-like nose and take another sip another of her expensive English Tea. Pardon me, did I forget to mention that Ms. Jenkins was an English Immigrant. “What are you doing up so late Mister Silver-Light?” she repeated.
“I wish to buy myself some ink for my story, I feel I’m almost finished. He showed her his handful of pennies and nickels he collected. I tear began to roll down Ms. Silver-Lights face.
“For all the pity in the world, why must I watch you day by day fight yourself and scrap your money up does follow your true dream”. She sniffled and then she continued: “Mr. Silver-Light. Follow me,” she commanded. She got up out her old brown chair and showed Mr. Silver-Light into her room. She reached into an old jewelry box and pulled out a quill and an old container. She handed it to him. “This belonged to my dear Gerald before he left us. Take good care and finish your story. The world should have the blessing of hearing your great mind.”
“Thank You Ms. Jenkins, you have a kind soul”, said Mr. Silver-Light said.
“Well at least I try to”, said Ms. Jenkins. Then she gave of an old chuckle, but it was interrupted by a ghastly cough. “Go now, and let me now when you’re down”.
“I’ll make sure I do”, said Mr. Jenkins. He ran back up the long staircase into his room and began to write. Once again he fell into deep concentration. He wrote and wrote and when he was finished he decided to write some more. He soon Mr. Silver-Light had became obsessed with his work. He became some type of, monster. When the sun began to rise came Mr. Silver-Light forgot to go to work. He looked in the mirror to see what he become. He became a beastly creature obsessed with work. He fell in love with it. He became grumpy anytime someone interrupted his work.
He could not bare what he saw. He went to Ms. Jenkins for advice but she did not understand. “I’m Mr. Silver-Light, believe me”, he whined. Ms. Jenkins did not understand. She just squealed and cried. Soon she died from a heart attack. Mr. Silver-Light could not believe it. He had scared her to death. He set her cold dead body on her bed, and gave her the quill and ink container. He made an oath never to scare anyone else. The sun began to rise so Mr. Silver-Light began to run from it so that he would never be seen again. He did not want anyone to once again die from the sight of his face.
Mr. Silver-Light ran from the sun so that no one would see him in his beastly form. He ran so fast that he became a silver blur, and behind that silver blur you could see the sun not to far behind. If you look close enough you can still see Mr. Silver-Light running from the sun. So tonight watch the sunrise over the broad horizon, you just might see him. But remember don’t stay up to late or you just might become an old grumpy beast, like Silver-Light: the man who stayed up to late.
