This is an unfinal excerpt from my novel 'The Journals of Maynard Ray'
"La voie est libre," the chauffeur said.
"Merci," I replied. Of course, a mere 'thank you' was insufficient; I slipped my hand into my breast pocket and produced a hundred Dollar bill. A smile catalyzed under his moustache.
"Merci Monsieur," replied the chauffeur, as he grabbed the paper from my hold.
As the taxi zoomed off onto the road, I walked forward, towards the door of Professor Festus.
Knock knock knock
The door was drawn open, and the familiar excrescence of the interior accoutred with the odour of unventilated air, came upon me like the force of the wind; Truly, c'était horrible.
As I walked past the hallway, I could not help but wonder how an individual could be a denizen of such hovel; especially an individual of high repute such as Professor Festus.
The painting on the walls had been scratched off. The ceiling cried for repairs as the pipes within it leaked liquid of unsanitary ilk. I paused for a moment and gazed at the trophy case.
Haut Monde Honorary in Advanced Arfutology
Doyen d'Avenir in Statistical Arfutology
First Magnus of Cognizance in Apofasiology
Third Magnus of Cognizance in Vasikos Chrotaxology
Second Magnus in Advanced Arfutology
Galactic Prize in Ano-physics
I had always been mesmerised by all those golden trophies and medals which Professor Festus had earned during his professional lifetime. He was one of the most intelligent individuals in the galaxy, and the fourth individual to ever attain the academic title of Second Magnus of Cognizance in Arfutology.
The odour dragged me back to the status quo. I knocked on the sitting-room door and received no response from inside.
"Professor Festus, c'est moi, Johannes," there was still no response. I decided to allow myself in.
Professor Festus was sitting on the floor, cross-legged, with closed eyes.
"Professor Festus"
After a long pause, the man finally spoke.
"Ah, Johannes, I am delighted you have responded to my invite with goodwill." His deep, wise voice shook my heart, just like it always did. He sounded weak.
"Bien sûr Professor, I shall always be at your call whenever you require my assistance."
"Merci beaucoup," he said, still shutting his eyes.
"Can I get you some water, Professor?"
"No, I shall require you to listen attentively to my instructions. I have arbored approximately four minutes from now before my murderers open the door of this house."
That was heavy information imposed so suddenly upon me. Was he serious? The Professor never joked.
"But Professor, who is coming to kill you?" I asked.
"That information is irrelevant. What you need to know is what you will be required to do after I am dead."
I stood in silence and stared at the Professor.
"I have arbored an 86.9467 probability that there shall be a global catastrophe of monumental impact between the 23rd and 30th of July, this year 2013. Because I am one of the few arbors in this galaxy who is talented enough to arbor a probability of the planned event, I have been targeted for elimination."
"Professor, this is all too much."
"You must do all you can to prevent such event from occurring. When you escape from the sight of my killers, you must travel to the England and meet Doctor Adam Middleton. Tell him what I have told you, and he shall know what to do."
"Why did you not call the Parafederal Agency? Why me?"
"Ils ne sont pas à leur faire confiance. Besides, I have arbored probabilities of major parts which you shall play in this latent war."
I was about to speak when he commanded, "Hide, boy! They approach."
I heard the main door squeak open, and I scampered to the cupboard which the Professor pointed at. It was small, but my petit physique could fit into it.
The sound of two gunshots echoed through the building and reverberated in my ears. My idol had been killed, and my journey had just begun.
DEFINITION OF KEY TERMS:
ARBOR: Noun - A person who has the ability to predict multiple possible futures very quickly by mentally plotting out a tree of possible outcomes that would succeed an event. The arbor begins at a base called the seed. Then from the seed, possible outcomes germinate and from those possibilities, other possibilities germinate and continuously till the limited mind of the arbor cannot capacitate any more possibilities. Verb - The act of treeing probable futures.
(meaning 'tree' in latin)
ARFUTOLOGY: The science of arboring. (from the latin word for tree, and 'fututum' meaning future in latin)
APOFASIOLOGY: The branch of chronosology which studies the nature of human decisions and how they affected past events, present events, and how they might affect future events. (from Greek apofasi meaning decision)
CHROTAXOLOGY: The branch of chronosology which studies time travel and its effects on space, and subsequent time frames. (from Greek chronos meaning time, and taxidi meaning travel)
Points:
Time spent:
Canary word: Present
Possible AI signals:
Original Text:
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125,008 Literary Works • 672,828 Reviews
French, nice. Adds a bit of style to it. In first few lines 'as' has been used quite too often. Space the words more carefully. It was a nice read. I don't really think, content wise it has any cons what so ever (for me, at least). To be honest I did not read it with all that attention but of all the short stories I read over here, yours is the simplest yet most elaborate. Of course, it benefits from being only an excerpt. I do not think one can fit in a complete short story without compromising the elaboration. Good job. Cheers.
You are my very first review!
The spacing has been covered, so I won't delve into it, but you use the same words over and over. Try to find different words to say what you want.
You describe the intelligence of the proffessor, but we know nothing of the physique. In fact, the only thing we know about the POV character is that it is a boy and not of a strong build.
Nitpicky thing: Petit is the French spelling. 'Petite' is the English spelling. But, if you were still going for the French spelling, nevermind.
There is a lot of information, but a noticable lack of emotion. If Johannes is so attached to the proffessor, the first thing he would think about wouldn't be of his journey.
Favorite line, for no discernible reason:
The ceiling cried for repairs as the pipes within it leaked liquid of unsanitary ilk.
This has fascinated me! I particularly like your description and addition of french phrases. I think that you should have described the professor a little to help engage the readers a little more. But, overall it was really good and enjoyable. I hope we get to see more soon.
Nice. You've intrigued me, or at least confused me.
Excellent vocabulary. I especially liked, " A smile catalyzed under his moustache."
The main mistake I noticed was periodic missing spaces. After seeing it this way enough times, I decided that you probably meant to make it, "ProfessorFestus", but I'm not sure. Go over all of them and make sure you're consistent.
I wonder what exactly 'arbor' means. Is it a concept you made up? Is that some kind of New Age thing?
Anyhow,
"I have arbored an 86.9467 percent probability that there shall be a global catastrophe of monumental impact between the twenty-third and the thirtieth of July, this year two-thousand thirteen. Because I am one of the few arbors in this galaxy who is talented enough to arbor a probability of the planned event, I have been targeted for elimination."
Notice the 'percent', spacing on the dates, and re-writing into words. Small numbers like dates should be written out in letters, although the year is a little more optional.
"Merci," I replied. Of course, a mere 'thank you' was insufficient; I slipped my hand into my breast pocket and produced a hundred Dollar bill. A smile catalyzed under his moustache.
Added a comma after "Of course". Nice storytelling.
This piece can't stand alone, so I hope Johannes shows more emotion in the other parts of the story; the ending is too abrupt.
Well, hope that helps. Happy writing!
-Cyb3rBlade
Okay love how you put French in this, because I'm taking a French class at school so I understood almost everything. But my French teacher did say that in the last one
"Ils ne sont pas à leur faire confiance...' that you don't need the faire.
Other than that I didn't really see anything wrong with this. I really liked it. And I liked how when he looked at the trophy case you told what the trophy's where, but you could have described what they looked like.
I think you could have described Professer Festus as well. Oh and the spacing in between some of the words. But it was slightly there. Other than that good job.