|In The Style of Robinson Crusoe
Author: Infinity Plus One PM
I had to put this up again because the old version had my name in it. Argh. This is in the style of Robinson Crusoe, in fact, it just makes fun of Robinson Crusoe's style. I hope that you enjoy.Rated: Fiction K - English - Humor/Parody - Words: 879 - Reviews: 3 - Published: 02-03-06 - id: 2104736
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
NB: The !!! hides my name.
My Arduous Journey to School in the Style of Daniel Defoe's Robinson Crusoe.
I, poor miserable !!!, being awaken'd, during a dreadful Dream, on a dark winter's Morning by a terrible crashing noise. As I came to my Senses, I realised that it was, in fact, My Self that had created such a Clamour, by falling off in quite a clumsy fashion off my large Bed. I got up and closed the old, double – insulated Window with great Strength and Labour. I changed into the Day's clothes, viz. a white Shirt with short Sleeves, a pair of Trousers that are quite thick in texture and blue in Colour that have come to be called Denim Trousers, a long brown Jacket that had exactly three small Holes, and a pair of old faded, green Socks. The digital grey and blue clock sat two Inches away from my Lamp, both of which sat upon my Bedroom Cabinet. I glanc'd at it woefully, and saw, after placing my Spectacles upon my Nose, that it read six Hours, seven Minutes and twelve Seconds. I strode into the Bathroom, picked up my white Toothbrush and began to brush my Teeth in an orderly fashion.
Once the Morning Rituals were complet'd, I made the long and arduous Journey to the Kitchen. Once I arrived at the cold Room, I took a Bowl, some semi-skimmed Milk and two different types of Cereal. I was in so much fear of starving to Death for want of food that I consum'd my Breakfast in quite a Hurry, while regarding the News with great interest. The old Clock that sat on the Mantelpiece informed me that it was a Quarter to Six and twelve Seconds. After travelling upstairs to find my Mother fast asleep, I collected my Belongings and exit'd via the Front Door. I was carrying many Possessions viz. three Binders of varying Colours, two Exercise Books, three Text Books, my black Homework Diary, my Pencil Case, the Times Newspaper, various Tissues and my Travelcard of the despicable London Transport.
After twenty scintillating Minutes of travelling over a Hill situated in a London Suburb, namely Raynes Park. I arrived at an aptly named Raynes Park Station. I was Tired because 1stly. my Rucksack weighed approximately the same weight as a dead She-Goat; 2ndly. the Hill had a rather Strong steepness about itself; 3dly. my Leg was in a tolerable, but not comfortable amount of Pain. I walking into the Station, and onto the Platform, to find that the Seven O' Eight was arriving, but Fifty-Three Seconds late. I boarded the Train and chose a Corner to stand in. There were Twenty-Seven people in the Carriage, including Ten who alight'd at Wimbledon and Three who alight'd at Earlsfield. I alight'd My Self at the Junction of Clapham, only to realised that I was in fact, extraordinarily early for the Seven Thirty Eight. I began to comfort my Self as well as I could, and to set the good against the Evil, that I might have something to distinguish my case from worse, and I stated it very impartially, like Debtor and Creditor, the Comforts I enjoy'd, against the Miseries I suffer'd, Thus,
I am cast upon a horrible busy Station, void of all hope of an early Train.
But I am early, and not late, and many Thousands of People are late.
I am singl'd out and separated, as it were, from all the world to be writing this Madness.
But I am singl'd out too from all of London Transport's Commuters to be early for my Train.
I am without any Defence of Means to resist any Violence of Man or Misplaced Drunkard.
But I am cast on the Busiest Train Station in Britain (as noted by a well-structur'd Notice) where, if I am attack'd, I may be sav'd by a kinder Soul.
I am Cold.
There is Heater over there.
I found, that by this Process of Contemplation, I consum'd a whole Two Minutes of my Time. I began to walk towards Platform Number Two, when I took a dreadful glance at the Departure Times. Anger and Fury rose within me as I read the electronic Board viz.
0838Willesden JnSuspended (I have no idea as to what the Board is trying to convey to me by saying Suspended – Trains cannot hang in Mid-air, as far as I am concerned)
I walk'd about in the Station, lifting up my Hands, and my whole Being, as I may say, wrapt up in the contemplation of my Deliverance, making a Thousand gestures and motions which I cannot describe. This threw me into terrible Agonies of Mind, that for while I ran about likes a Mad-man; Time coming upon me, I began with a heavy Heart to consider travelling to Hammersmith Station via London Waterloo instead of attempting to approach Kensington Olympia. However, I soon came to realise that my running about like a Mad-man had gather'd quite a large amount of Attention and that a Strike had just commenc'd.