Thursday, November 20, 2008

The Inheritance

This week I would like to post the beginning of what I think will be my ten page short story. I say "think" because I have yet to decide what exactly I would like to present as my final work of fiction for this advanced creative writing class. If any of my previous or current works have interested you, the reader and viewer of The Mind of Eldon, please feel free to comment on this post to give me an idea of what I may focus on for my final paper.

With that being said, I present to you the first page of The Inheritance, a short story sparked by a prompt.

The Inheritance

Some would indeed say that I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth. Those people would also declare that I have never had to work for anything in my 21 years of existence. That I believe that my, quote un-quote, bourgeoisie social class and formal upbringings constitutes some kind of authority over the lower class or working individuals of New York, hence making me some sort of a…a rich, spoiled brat; an arrogant, self centered, narcissistic Bruce Wayne.

They would deem me irresponsible, inconsistent, un-ambitious, and unworthy of heading a multi-billion dollar company. A company, I might add, that was started by my late father, God rest his soul, Alexander Fidias. They would hold my youth against me, stating that if I was not so pre-occupied with wasting my inheritance on designer clothing, fancy cars, expensive yachts, and gorgeous women, I could focus on the immense responsibilities that come with running a global enterprise.

I will tell you all, and you can now quote me correctly, when I say that these pretentious accusations are bullshit.

You, whom my father trusted, loved, and respected for 25 years, would like to overthrow his only son whom he rightfully put in charge. You would like to see him crumble. You would like to see him on his feet—begging for you to take his 51% share of the company. I’m sure that the overwhelming majority of the 15 of you assembled at this table feels quite justified in your meticulous and self-righteous acts of sabotage and blackmail.

Oh don’t…don’t you look at me like I don’t know what I’m talking about Mr. Finn. Like I’m some sort of naïve child unaware of the danger that lies ahead. Please don’t insult my intelligence. I’ll have you know that I have a significant amount of evidence against each and every despicable one of you showing that, not only are you conspiring to take over my company, yes….my company, but you also had a hand in my father’s murder.

To Be Continued...

3 comments:

A Quinlan said...

Hey Brandon --

I have been unable to find the pages you turned in to me 2 weeks ago. Can you resend them by email? I did comment on this story, and I trust you recall my advice on that. I definitely like your writing and want you to keep going, but this part of the story needs work.

Best, AQ -- alexis@abchaoslex.com

Deirdre O. said...

I like this story so far Brandon! it has a very arrogant tone to it...which i think was something you were trying to go for. lol

and any writing with the word bourgeis in it gets my vote! =P

WILSON MODELS said...

Thanks lol...