About The Author
D. R. Prescott has written a novel, a collection of short stories, a nonfiction book, a collection of essays, planetarium show/display scripts, two family histories, technical articles and business plans as well as written for and edited several newsletters.
 
Awards and published work include Writers' Journal, Long Story Short, Taj Mahal Review literary journal, The Orange County Register, Writer's Digest, and Writing.com and four books among other challenges.
 
As a former aerospace executive and planetarium program director, Prescott currently writes and explores life in Orange, California.
 
Picture to match DW in promo
"Sentience can be annoying."-DRP Abt. 1990
*Thumbsup*
 
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Since 2008, Prescott has been a regular contributor of
essays and short stories to
The Taj Mahal Review Literary Journal
Get your copies now at: http://tajmahalreview.com/
 
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Alpha Centauri and Beyond Radio Interview of Prescott
Books written. 
 
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O R D E R   T O D A Y !
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Wonder Boys
by D. R. Prescott




         “Michel, can you imagine the possibilities?” Lenny asked in the special language that they had invented to conceal their real abilities. Lenny, like Michel, had mixed emotions since realizing, or maybe more appropriately remembering, that they had lived before. Keeping it their secret was one of their few agreements until Michel stupidly did that first sand sculpture.

         “Listen to her!” Michel said.

         “Didn’t hear. What’d she say?” Lenny asked.

         “She’s bragging again! She said, ‘From a very early age they showed tremendous potential.’ Big deal! Now she just called us wonder boys! Good grief!”

         “Don’t gripe to me. You’re the one who let the sculpting thing out. I’m just going along. Don’t let anything else slip.” Lenny said.

         “Terrible.” Michel complained. “Look over there. People pointing. Why are we doing George Washington anyway? Let’s tear this thing down. Sculpting beach sand is boring. Give me a good hunk of granite any day.”

         “Quit whining. Know what you need?”

         “No, what?”

         Lenny spoke while tenderly finishing George’s shoulder. ‘You need a big project, like a really big ceiling to paint.”

         “Funny. You know what really annoys me.”

         “What?”

         “Why’d we have to come back as twins? And, at the same time? It’s not fair. I even look like you! I use to be better looking. It’s not right.” Michel said as he finished George’s left shoulder. He pointed to the right shoulder. “Fix that!”

         “Fix what? You’re the one that’s got it wrong! You pompous good-for-nothing!” Lenny got up.

         “Beware or…” Michel rose with his fists clenched.

         “Or what? Your art is at war with nature. Look how you screwed up his shoulder! You arrogant fool! I’m a lot more famous. For proof, look in any bookstore today. My name is all over it! There’s da Vinci this, da Vinci that. I inspired that… hundreds of years ago!” Lenny hissed.

         “Did not!” Michel snorted and stood his ground.

         “Did too!” Lenny screamed.

         “That’s only because greedy people make a lot of money off your trashy paintings, reading all kinds of meaning into them that you never intended.”

         “I did too!” Lenny screamed, kicking sand at Michel.

         “You did not!”

         “I did!”

         “Did not!”

         “Did!”

         “Did not!

         “Children, cut it out!” A booming female voice caught their attention. They looked up at their mother, poured into hip-hugging jeans topped with a bright red halter top. ‘Mona would have moaned!’ Lenny thought. She swept them up in her arms as they kicked at each other. “What is this? Why are you two always fighting? Settle down! Now!” She demanded.

         Lenny complied. Michel merely submitted to a greater force. She put them in their separate playpens. “Now stay put and stay out of trouble or else.” She said wagging her finger at them.

         Lenny frowned. Michel scowled.

         “You didn’t!” Michel whispered.

         “I did!”

         They stared angrily at each other, stuck their thumbs in their mouths and curled up for a nap.

         Sleepily, Lenny said, “Did.”

         Michel yawned and replied, “Did not!”


© Copyright 2006 D. R. Prescott (donprescott at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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' Copyright 2008 D. R. Prescott (UN: donprescott at Writing.Com). All rights reserved. D. R. Prescott has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. Questions or Comments? E-mail to prescottdc@sbcglobal.net
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