Threepenny Novel
an excerpt

I'm writing my novel live at http://www.crushedmuffin.com/writings/ThreepennyNovel.html

Come and join me, and I'll take your suggestions and incorporate them in my story.

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Dresden hit the snooze button on his alarm clock, and squinted his eyes against the sunlight that somehow managed to filter through his blinds to leave a strip across his eyes. He peeled open one brown eye to look at the time, then bolted upright in bed. He was going to be late again.

He scrambled through his closet to find an outfit that was not too dirty, and had a nagging feeling that he had been having an intense dream moments before, though he could not recall any of the dream. Growing up he had always had action filled dreams, and regaled his little sister and mother with tales of the events that happened on the other side of sleep. His mom would sigh and tell him he had an over-active imagination, but his sister would beg for more.

Pulling a button up shirt over his head, still buttoned from when he wore it the last time, he shook off the feeling of missing his dreams, of missing telling Delonda about his nighttime quests, he was going to be later than his students today if he didn't hurry. It was bad enough when he didn't get there for the morning staff meeting, but to have students show up before him was a terrible no-no.

Throwing clothes out of his closet into his small room, he failed to find any shoes. He grabbed a tie from the doorknob, and rushed out into the house, almost colliding with Lional. The larger man looked down at him with a piercing glare, and a freshly trimmed mustache. "Sorry Lional, have you seen my shoes?"

"No, ask Raul." Lional said, pushing his way past Dresden and heading towards his room. Dresden sighed, and went to the kitchen. Guido was peeling potatoes for a breakfast scramble. Dresden didn't mind that his roommate did this shirtless, but the sight of the other man's tattoos always disturbed him.

Giving a small cough to gather his courage, Dresden said, "Uh, Guido, have you seen my shoes?"

Guido nodded, but didn't say anything; the sound of the knife going shick-shick over the potato filled the kitchen for several moments while Dresden gathered up another round of courage. "Can you tell me where?"

"Sold 'em," Guido said with a shrug that sent the eagle on his back twitching. Dresden never dared to say, but rather than simulating the motion of flight like Guido had intended, the action seemed to send the eagle into spasms.

"Which pair? The sneakers or the dress shoes?" Dresden asked, dread filling the pit of his stomach. The dress shoes would probably get more, and he would be frowned upon for wearing sneakers to work on top of already being late. He knew better than to ask *why* Guido had sold the shoes.

"Both," Guido said, turning to look at Dresden. "Hope that's not a problem?"

"Urm, well, no." Dresden said, hiding the panic he felt at his situation. "I'll be fine." He knew that the principal and superintendent were having a meeting that day, but he wasn't about to stake his life on an argument over shoes with a half-naked tattooed man wielding a potato peeler, or to argue that said "potato peeler" was more appropriate to find in a knife fight than in a kitchen.

Dresden rushed out of the kitchen, and knocked on Raul's door. The door swung open silently, the only non-squeaky door in the house. Raul looked up at Dresden. "I don't have any shoes to wear," Dresden said, trying to not sound pathetic. Raul looked him over, then waved that he should follow.

Raul lead the way back into Dresden's own room, and crouched down in front of the pile of clothes covering the closet floor. Gently moving aside a shirt and a pair of jeans, Raul uncovered a pair of shoes, Dresden's last, pointed at them, then walked away.

Dresden moaned, and rolled his eyes. Why today of all days? The superintendent was going to be there, and he would be stuck wearing the shoes that Delonda had given him as a gag on his last Christmas at home. A glance at the clock put speed back in him, and Dresden pulled on the shoes, trying to ignore the floppy ears and cute dog faces that stared back up at him. This was not going to be a good day.