Grown in the Grey
A short story written by Fawad Rathore with PlotWeaver: Cards of Creation, a storytelling game made by Mod Hob Cooperative.
This story uses a Non-Linear Plot Pattern, written in 15-minute timed acts with all story cards drawn at random. For more information, visit www.plotweavergame.com
Act 1: Disjointed Events or Perspectives
Story Element Cards: The Young, The Dreamer, Frontier Outpost, Medieval Castle, and Dystopian
“Watch outtt…!”
Tom jumped aside just as the police hovercraft zoomed past, the gunman at the back still yelling, “Watch where you’re going, boy!”
He had stolen some bread and was crossing the market road; the close call gave him a scare, but he realized the commotion was an assurance that no one had noticed his theft. He took a bite as he walked, looking for his next opportunity. He stuck to the side of the dusty road where a footpath once lay, passing vendors on either side—the only part of the outpost where trade still happened.
He stopped at a signboard covered in advertisements, wanted posters, and announcements from the “fat landlord” (the nickname Tom and his friends had for the Mayor of the outpost). One note caught his eye: Visit Salisfurry Castle: Job opportunities, largest market in the land, land of your dreams, free school available. This was new, he thought.
Tammy walked down the path toward the school. It had been an early morning. This is the third paycheque we’ve missed, she thought. At least there are students willing to learn; I can keep busy and forget about food for a while. I’m eating some barbecue the second I get paid, she promised herself. She headed toward the school where a boy was hitting a sheet of metal they used as a bell.
Act 2: Events Connect or Merge
Story Element Cards: Cultural Clash
“Dial it down, girls,” Tammy said as she walked past a group of students arguing loudly in the schoolyard. She had been there once herself, she remembered.
Her classroom was a dimly lit room with high ceilings and windows facing west and south. There were carpets on the floor for the children to sit on. What I would give to get these children proper furniture, she thought. Back in my day... Her reflections were interrupted by the jitters of fifty students now entering the room.
Fifty students in one room, she sighed to herself. No wonder we are all that’s left of society.
Meanwhile, Tom had made up his mind. He told his friends he was hitching a ride to the castle. He had been lucky enough to find work as a tea boy for the day and met a bus driver who agreed to take him to the castle for a discounted fare if Tom helped manage the passengers.
It was a small hover-bus crowded with twenty people. Tom, happy not to be squeezed inside, hung by the door, excited for the adventure. If there was a school in the castle, perhaps he could find his long-lost Grandma. She had always been a teacher. He remembered her kind face—usually upset that kids didn’t know as much math as they did “back in the day.” A smile touched his face, followed quickly by the sharp ache of missing her.
Act 3: Final Intersection or Connection
Story Element Cards: Character Transformation
Tammy had spent a gruelling day at school. She had managed to convince the grocer to let her borrow a few more items during recess. As she walked out toward the yard at the end of the day, she felt dizzy; she hadn’t had a real meal in days. Tonight, I finally cook, she thought. The afternoon was bright and promising, as if the world were about to change for the better. Perhaps the Mayor finally has enough money to pay us, she hoped.
Tom watched the castle doors open as the bus came to a halt. “Don’t go running off, Tom,” the driver said, leaning back. “Help these people off the bus first.”
He quickly assisted the passengers and rushed into the castle yard. He ran past men selling homemade trinkets, past the butcher, and the grocery. Near the school gates, he saw a group of people gathered around someone who had fallen. A man held an old woman’s head in his arms, helping her sip some water.
Weak from hunger and exhaustion, Tammy had collapsed.
Tom rushed to her side. “Grandmama?” he whispered, leaning close.
She opened her eyes and squinted to see him clearly. A bright smile broke across her face. “Tom? My child... where have you been?”
“I am here,” Tom said. “I am back!” He was surprised by how grown-up his own voice sounded.