Dream Date_Rocking Around The Shopping Mall_Cigarettes and Whiskey_It Happens Once Every Year - But
Catalog Guide:
Dream Date
“Are you coming tonight?” Sue asked. This phrase I’m sure most people are delighted to hear. Yes, you’ve been included in something, hopefully fun, a party or dinner out, maybe even a movie. They are seeking out your presence at the event. They want you there. “Tonight…” I stammered. Yet in me, it instills dread, a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach, a racing heart. I kept myself from running away by shear force of will. I’m sure this was not a normal response of the average human being and wondered what’s wrong with me. Who doesn’t want to be included, to be wanted in a group of friends...
Rocking Around The Shopping Mall
Warning: LanguageAh the holidays. Capitalism at its finest. Supposedly November 26 and onward is the most wonderful time of the year. Personally, I think it’s the most stressful time of the year. At least it is for a college student who has a minimum wage job trying to help pay off mounds and mounds of student debt. As you can imagine, I don’t have much money to spend on Christmas gifts. I always try my best though. A present for my two siblings and something small for my parents. But the worst part isn’t even the money. It’s not trying to figure out what to buy people. It’s actually being stu...
Cigarettes and Whiskey
It is 7:24 pm. I could see his lips moving but could hear no words escaping them. The silence was deafening and yet, I seemed to be the only one experiencing it. His head tossed back in raucous laughter at one of his own jokes, perhaps to elicit movement from my own lips. Nothing. The search in his eyes was palpable to an unsettling degree. His stubbly fingers curled round the glass, as if somehow trying to escwww.onedoor.ccape the last four failed seconds. His eyes flickered instantaneously to the other side of the room, subconsciously searching for the exit in a desperate attempt to escape the discomfort ...
It Happens Once Every Year - But Then
It is December 31, five o’clock in the afternoon, and I’m riding the elevator up to the annual Office New Year’s Party. I know a few things about what the party will be like. The food will be good. The cafeteria cook is not involved in any of the cooking. She is just serving, as she does every year for this one particular meal. She doesn’t appear to be resentful. I guess she just has to swallow her feelings, like we have to do the meals that she cooks the rest of the year. The drink will be plentiful and ever flowing. I’ve already booked a taxi for 12:20. The loud-talking and laughing drunk...