Jessica’s Blog

We have been asked to take the first paragraph of the Hobbit and continue writing the first chapter the way we want to. Mine started out fairly serious and somewhat sad, but then somehow changed. Oh well, here it is

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole, with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat. It was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.

Though the sun shone down on the hobbit-hole, the inhabitant was bitter and lonely. This was a hobbit who’s whole life had been nothing but trouble, and wished for the mercy of death. He was old and grizzled, and moved with stiff legs. He held a large cane with which he ocassionally hit something to express his feelings. Day after day went by and to the hobbit they all seemed the same. He had nothing to do but sit in his old armchair nd wait until it was nightime. He would then shuffle back to his bedroom, fall asleep, and wake in the morning to find things the same as the day before. But this particular morning, as he drowsily made his breakfast, he had no idea that today would be different. He had just finished his breakfast and had just sunk into his chair when there was a rap at the door. The hobbit groaned and tried to ignore it, but the rapping continued persistenly until at last he rose stiffly and limped to the door. He opened it hesitantly and the morning sunlight streamed into his eyes. He blinked, and shielding his eyes with his hand he was able to see a silhouette before him. “Hello!” it said cheerfully, and moved forward. The figure squeezed past before the hobbit could stop him, and for thefirst time he saw who the silhouette actually was. Squinting in disbelief, he said in his scratchy tones “My God! Is that Gangrene the Wizbot?” The figure, which was actually a robot, laughed evily. “Indeed it is!” His dark eyes (which were really just pieces of plastic) slanted into a glare, and he advanced towards the hobbit, robotic arms outstretched. “DESTROY THE HOBBIT! DESTROY THE HOBBIT!” he chanted in his metallic tones, and the hobbit, now thoroughly spooked, backed down the narrow corridor. After him came the wizbot, rolling along on his four wheels. His chanting continued, echoing around them as the chase continued. The hobbit suddenly threw open a door on the right of the passage, and before the wizbot could follow, he had dashed in a locked the door. Gasping for breath, the Hobbit limped over to his old bookcase to fetch “The Bad Book”. This was where he recorded every bad thing that ever happened to him. He shoved it in the faces of those who dared to tell him his life wasn’t so bad, and he was determined to add a new entry right now. He pulled at the book, but instead of coming clearly of the shelf, it stayed put. There was a strange clicking sound, and the Hobbit noticed that the bookcase was rotating. But before he could react it had swept him into whatever secret lay on the other side…

This entry was posted on May 18, 2006 at 2:22 am and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.