07-29-2009

Another exercise...

Start Fiction:


     All the planning and research was done. It was merely a question of Billy making the decision; the decision to start his own business.
Sally was on board. She knew how talented of a carpenter her husband was, the quality of work he produced. They had sold hundreds of pieces over the years, often well under their value.
     His boss, Hank, was aware of Billy's opportunity. While he didn't want to lose an employee of fifteen, he had told Billy he would be at the top of his contractor's list.
     His parents and in-laws had been the ones who planted the idea. His friends always came to him for various woodworking projects; they were definitely on board.
     Why was Billy the only one not sure? He knew he did fine and decent work, created some real pieces of work and loved to create almost anything. He was familiar with many types of wood, knew what worked best for various pieces and was willing to take on any challenge. But the challenge of his own business might be too much.
     As he unloaded his truck, his boss pulled in to the job site.
     "Hank," he said as he set down his mitre saw. "What brings you put to these parts?"
     "Billy," he said as they shook hands. "I have been doing a lot of thinking and well, here," Hank said as he handed Billy an thick manila envelope.
     "What's this?" he said as he opened the envelope.
     "I know you have been having trouble making a decision," Hank began. "And well, it's a list of people that want to hire you; that have hired you, actually."
     Billy looked over the pages of jobs. Dozens of job descriptions with generous bids that were accepted; contracts, signed contracts. Hank had lined up jobs for Billy for twenty-six weeks, minimum.
     Hairs stood up on the back of his neck. "Hank," Billy said. He wasn't sure if he felt like crying or jumping up and down.
     "Try it for six months," Hank said as he placed his hand on Billy's shoulder, "if it doesn't work out or you decide it's not for you, there will always be a job here for you."
     He looked at Hank, then back at through the paper work, then back at Hank.
     "Hank," his voice cracked.
     "You're like a son, Billy, happy to do it," Hank said. "Now, call your wife and start making plans for your new life!"



End Fiction.