Chapter 1 - New Home.

Norman loved his new home.

It was a cottage really, built all of stone it was very warm and snug. His home had been built for the winter, to keep out the cold. With a new roof and new windows, he knew he'd be safe from those northerly blasts that frequented this place.

"First things first," he thought. "I need to get settled."

So, he started in the den, soon to be his favorite room, by arranging his over-stuffed chair, and a small wooden table to hold tobacco and pipe. He angled them to face the large stone fireplace. As he did this, he imagined himself sitting there, lazily puffing his pipe, feet propped up to stay warm, casually browsing through the day's news.

The bookshelves he placed on a wall to his left. He stocked them full of the classics that he had collected, some books on gardening and carpentry, and a couple of books on theology. He placed the shelves just out of reach of the chair.

"It would look like I was lazy if everything in the room was in reach of the chair."

Next he moved on to the dining room. He wasn't really sure what he would use this room for. At the moment he only owned one chair for the table. And he didn't even think that he would use that. The kitchen housed a small breakfast nook that would work quite well for anyone, especially if they were eating alone, which is exactly what he planned on doing.

It wasn't that he didn't want visitors. He knew that there were people out there, others in the neighborhood, but he didn't actually know what to do with them. As he pondered the mysteries of visitation, he headed out of the dining room and into the kitchen.

Upon entering the kitchen, he glanced over at the breakfast nook. He loved that breakfast nook. It was a small little cubby that had been added onto the side of the kitchen. The three walls were mostly window. And the cubby was new enough that it still smelled like fresh paint.

Off of the kitchen and down a short hall both the bathroom and the bedroom could be reached. He headed on back to the bedroom, and plopped on the bed. He lay there for quite some time, just staring at the ceiling fan. Finally, after watching the swirling blades follow their endless path, he dozed off to sleep.

He loved his new home.

Trials

This blog is an attempt.

It is an attempt to increase my abilities as a writer.

It sounds weird even saying that. "... a writer" Writers are those people who sit around and spill out these incredible conjunctions of words that everybody awes in amazement at how they have been able to convey their thoughts or paint this incredible mental picture. I think that people that have the ability to do that are truly gifted.

I don't think that I am gifted in that area. I just think that it is fun, and that it gives my brain a good work-out.

I have another blog that I have been writing in since September 2003. I have had a lot of fun trying to put things on there that are both interesting and entertaining. And I have seen that blog grow and change over its first year of existence.

The purpose of this blog, as I mentioned before, is to attempt to write a short story. The story is about a guy living in typical suburbia, dealing with the trials of having neighbors. As you read it, I am sure that you will begin to pick up on the symbolism involved in this story.

If you enjoy this story at all, or just have some constructive criticism to share, feel free to leave me a comment.

Thank you and enjoy,

Matt