Fiction Writing
Hello. My name is Alex Weaver, a hero (in my town). I wasn't always a hero. It's a long story. It all started when I was born in a small town to a modest family. I have a father, who works at the docks, a mother, who is a weaver, and two brothers -- the older one, Bill, works with my father and the younger one, Pat, is still too young to work. Then there's me, the middle of the kids. We had a pretty normal life, but we once saw a dragon off in the distance, flying like an arrow over the mountains. It was gold, I think. Being the middle kid can be boring, as the older can boss you around and the younger gets all the attention. So one day I tried pickpocketing, just to stir up some mischief. I started on my brothers, stealing little trinkets and toys out of their pockets. It was fun and made life a little more interesting for all of us. Then one day a rich young wizard waltzed into town. He looked a bit too smug so I decided to teach him a lesson. I crept up behind him and...