Composing a Sonnet

This was my entry for the Angry Hourglass Flash Frenzy competition last weekend. It told itself in about 10 minutes which was surprising and when I looked at the result it turned out to have quite a psychotic tone to it. However, I really enjoyed writing it so should I be worried?!

Below is the story written in response to a roadsign bearing the phrase 'From Here to Eternity'.

Composing a Sonnet

Funny how no one ever gets the message. You have to spell it out for them … literally. And even then the illiterate morons don’t get it. Take tonight for instance. They’re at it again. At the entrance to my driveway.
My driveway.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
Have I made that clear?
Yes? Good. Then you’ll know I have a job to do and I’m sorry. But it’s there in black and white. ETERNITY. Now with your obvious educashun, do you know what that word means? Do you, do you? You’re both looking at me as though I’m some sort of madman. Hah, you don’t know the half of it.
Eternity means forever.
And I live at that house. You can keep your Dunroamins and your Bide-a-Wees. My house is ETERNITY. It is FOREVER. So now, and I’m sorry, but there’s nothing else for it, you’re coming with me.
Him, him we can leave behind.
We can leave him HERE.
You, you are coming with me. Now please, please don’t struggle there’s a good girl. You boy, you stay put. I told you, you stay HERE. No? You don’t want to? Well, I can soon put that right. There, there, all done.
Now don’t you fret girl, I’ve got some fresh clothes you can wear, although I must say crimson is a most becoming colour against your skin. But look at you, why you’re a veritable Snow White. A rosy red apple just waiting to be bitten, just waiting …
Hush, don’t you waste your time screaming. No one’ll hear you. Not out here. Nobody ever comes out here. Except young couples like you. P’raps that’s why I opened my little guesthouse in this here vicinity. It’s back up there, off the track. Blink and you miss it. I’m not the sort to advertise. I’m what you might call exclusive. A word of mouth kind of guy. A poet even. And I have so many words for you, words to whisper in your pretty little ear. But I’m getting carried away. Come, Eternity’s waiting for us and for you I will compose a sonnet.