grumpyThe Shorter Hamlet
January 27th 2008 12:37
Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, leant on the battlements and stared out into the misty evening, where the ghost of this dilemma had previously arisen to trouble his soul. At first, his handsome face was dark with concern, but only for a moment. Suddenly brightening, he reached into his pocket, retrieved a gold coin and flipped it into the air. Catching it again, he looked down to where it rested in his palm. Nodding slowly, he stood erect, pulling his sword from the scabbard at his side. With his face now set in grim resolve, he strode to the stairs, his purpose clear before him.
Horatio met him coming down the stairs.
“Hail, my Lord,” he said, apprehension rising in his eyes as he took in the Prince’s determined countenance.
“You have made up your mind then, I see” he said, nodding at the Prince’s drawn sword.
“Yes, Horatio,” said Hamlet, “I’m going to kill the bastards.”
“A hard decision, my Lord,” said Horatio grimly.
“Not really,” said Hamlet, as he hurried past, giving Horatio the last smile that would ever cross his face.
“Piece of piss, actually,” he said.
Horatio met him coming down the stairs.
“You have made up your mind then, I see” he said, nodding at the Prince’s drawn sword.
“Yes, Horatio,” said Hamlet, “I’m going to kill the bastards.”
“A hard decision, my Lord,” said Horatio grimly.
“Not really,” said Hamlet, as he hurried past, giving Horatio the last smile that would ever cross his face.
“Piece of piss, actually,” he said.
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Comment by Lily
Ars Poetica
should be in every school?