Short Story by Anon

Got bored while waiting for a torrent to finish, so I wrote a short story. I assumed it would go here, since it is a bunch of text, and relates best to books.

    An anonymous shadowy figure set down his pint, to turn and look at his new companion. Saying nothing, he simply grinned and continued to drink. The person who had just encountered this shadow was just a simple peasant, not worthy of a simple wager, despite the fact of the large complex of a gambling house that the bar was located in. No, he was aiming at a higher standard for his funds. He knew that the man he was looking for would arrive shortly, it was only a matter of time. He had his doubts as well, as a rich man hides his money.
    "It looks like you're waiting for someone;" the peasant decided to speak. Anonymous finally decided to open his lips and talk, even though it was just for one word. "Yes."
    "Not to social, are you?" "I keep my bussiness to myself." "The name's Stefan, have you got one?" Since this man appeared humble, our unidentified character decided to reveal himself. "People call me Masaru, if that is what you wanted to know." Stefan was slightly irrated at this man's choice of words, rather rude for his taste. He called for a pint humself, and the two never glanced the other's way.
    Ten minutes passed, and his associate still hasn't shown up. Wondering if the noblemen had already shown up, he decided to take a look at his location. Card tables where scattered in various places in the giant room, with three to six people at each one. Wall mounted televisions depicted Keno and race statistics, as dozens of chairs gathered in one spot to stare at the screen, hoping for their numbers to win. There were other various items you would find in most casinos, such as dim lighting, bright flashes from the slots, yells of people losing their savings, and that aura of greed and pride. Since this was a rather low budget casino, smoking was not much of a choice, as you inhaled the fumes if you had a stick in your mouth or not. He was here on bussiness, nothing else. But nowhere was the man he was looking for.
    Getting up to leave, he grabbed his jacket and threw it over his shoulder. It is often could on this waste land. He turned to the door, took a few steps, and stopped. After the awkward pause he continued his path to the door.
    "Hey! Are you going to pay for that or not?" The bartender yelled at him, as he forgot to pick up the tab. Stefan however replied to the bartender instead, and Masaru overheard the bit. "Don't worry about it, put it on my bill." He grined, and stared at the door with one more pause. Suddenly, the door burst open. Why it was none other than the man he was watching for. In rather a bright blue outfit, he was obviously a nobleman, standing out in the sea of people dressed in brown, who had just averted their attention to the man who slammed the door against the wall when making an entrance. "AH! There you are ol' chap!" was the nobleman's response to the gaze that was apon him. Obviously not noticing it. Masaru whispered that they take the bussiness outside, as not to start another scene. They walked over to the side of the building, Masaru was used to these barrans of land in the distance, just outside the controlled environment. "We have a matter to discuss, other than why you are late." Masaru wanted this to be over, and not take long. "Terribley sorry chap, but I get rather disoriented when going out into this fields." "Well, are you going to keep our deal, or continue your excuse." "Don't worry, I brought it along." Pulling out a card in an appearantly hidden pocket in his gown, he continued the conversation. "It is right here, and I entrust it with you. It is a lot to handle, but I do have a lot more on the wager." "Don't worry, I know what I am doing, she may be rigged from scratch, but she sure can run."
    After handing the card with a slip of paper over to Masaru, the nobleman left to his transportation. He decided he should go as well, the sooner he can tune his mech, the more time he will have to build on to it. And abuse this card of cash.

How is this a story? What's it about? Looks like some random happenings out of nowhere.

At first, before I was done reading, I wanted to tell you how you should expose your material before you hit one third of the story, whatever it's size; and the earlier, the better. Great writers used to finish most of exposition in their first paragraph, actually, leaving only supplementary character introductions and such for the following of their first chapters.

For example:
GOVERNOR. I have called you together, gentlemen, to
tell you a most unpleasant piece of news. An Inspector-General
is coming.
Official 1: What, an Inspector-General?!
Official 2: What, an Inspector-General?!
etc., from Gogol's "Government Inspector". See? That's how the whole play starts off. The scene and conflict are set immediately, before you even know it.

Another example:
"All happy families resemble one another, each unhappy family is unhappy in its own way." That's Tolstoy's forst novel, Anna Karenina. Not that the novel's very good, neither is the opening extraordinarily clever, but at least it does the job: you're already informed about whatever the hell you're about to read. Anna, the super-hot milf, is gona run away with a rich young man, leaving her husband and 8 year old son, and that won't really end well AT ALL; and there are other families with diferent problems, but wait for Tolstoy's example of a good family, because it certainly is coming your way, too. Everything summed up in the first very line.

Now, back to your story. It isn't a story at all, seemingly, since it abruptly ends with nothing, as if you were going to tell us something but didn't even get to the point, leave alone be done with it. Nothing goes to nothing. You shouldn't have wasted your time - and ours. Unless you were going for the story of sheer originality: after all, your japanese-named character apparently rides on an anime-style mecha right out of a medieval kind of tavern with a TV. I have called you together to inform you, my gentleman, that it's the oldest cliche in the book... so to say.