Okay. Here is the first chapter of my latest work-in-progress. I am working on Chapter Two right now and also on another story too, which I will publish later.
In the Beginning
"Anne! The new neighbors are here! Come meet them."
Anne Cooper looked up from the flower bed she was weeding at the sound of her mother's voice. She stood up, brushed the dirt off of her hands, straightened her dress and her hair, and walked inside.
The first thing she noticed about the new neighbors was their hair. All three of them had brown hair, but only the teenage boy cut it normally. The parents had long, dirty-looking hair that fell just below both of their waists. The man's was long and straggly, and the woman's was roped into one long, thick braid. Now that Anne thought about it again, the boy's hair did look a bit odd, too.
The woman's voice jolted her out of her daydreams. She was saying, "Now, you'll have to pardon George here," she said, ruffling George's hair. "My husband and I let him go live in England with my sister Bessie for three years while we moved to Alabama because of my health, and when the three of us move back up here, George has messed up his hair! In England, they call it a mop top, but it looks more like a rag. Apparently, it's just some crazy fad passing through. i wouldn't be surprised if boys here in New york started wearing it too!" Well, that was quite probably the strongest Southern accent that Anne had ever heard.
Looking down, Anne realized what the woman was wearing. A piece of gauzy fabric formed the sleeves of her tank top, and she was wearing the shortest, most psychedelically-colored skirt she'd ever seen. It was not quite the best first impression Anne had ever had.
Mrs. Cooper introduced them. "Anne, this is Mr. and Mrs. Phillipson, and their son, George. George has been living in England for three years with his aunt Elizabeth. The Phillipsons have just moved next door from Alabama!" All the time Anne's mother was talking, Mrs. Phillipson had been nodding and smiling, but Mr. Phillipson and George just sat there staring into space. Unfriendly neighbors! Anne scoffed in her head.
Anne walked around the room, shaking hands. "Nice to meet you, pleasure, welcome to New York." As she finally reached George, though, she had to put out her hand and wait fifteen seconds for him to grasp it. He finally clasped it and looked up. "You have a very lovely home." he said softly, staring into Anne's eyes. Up close, he was actually sort of handsome, with his accent and his green eyes that seemed to be flecked with bits of gray. Compared to what his parents were wearing, George was actually dressed up, in khaki pants and a collared shirt. "Thank you." said Anne, quite taken aback by the overall effect George had on her.
As Anne walked back to her garden after the Phillipsons had left, she wondered what she would have to do to get George to notice her, but she needn't have bothered.
At their house that night, surrounded by packing crates and an overall sense of chaos, the Phillipsons ate a delicious casserole, prepared entirely by Anne. "Mmm, mmm! Mrs. Cooper sure can bake, can't she, Ma?" said George, eating his second plateful. "I agree this is scrumptious, but Anne made it, not Mrs. Cooper." Mrs. Phillipson winked at her husband as George blushed. "Oh, well, then, Anne sure can bake. I'm full, Ma, may I go up to my bedroom and work on unpacking?"
Just then, there was a knock at the door. "Sure, son, but get the door first, won't you?" asked Mr. Phillipson, but George was already gone. He pulled open the large front door, expecting a solicitor or something along those lines. It was Anne, though, holding a large boquet of flowers. "These are for your mother. Can I help you unpack?" George took the flowers and blushed. "Um, I'm not sure," he half-whispered. "Why don't you come in and ask my mum?" "I will, thanks." Red as a beet, George escorted Anne into the kitchen where his parents were just finishing clearing the table. George cleared his throat."Mum, Anne's here. She brought you flowers."
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