Dwell Time_Hymn of the Drexciya_He was way too good!_Top Poop Producer
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Dwell Time
“Thanks for coming to get me.”“No problem. What happened?”“I don't know. It smells like burnt rubber. My headlights kept dimming. It's kind of creepy. It just makes a funny clicking sound whenever I turn the key. It won't start at all now. I guess the battery's dead.”“Doesn't sound good. Lemme take a look.”“Yeah. She ain't going nowhere for awhile. Lemme hook 'er up and we'll tow 'er home. Prob'ly the alternator. I told you it was goin'.”“Well, that figures. Can you fix it?” “Maybe. We'll see.”“Ok.”“The train's comin'. We should hurry up or we'www.onedoor.ccll get stuck.”“I know. That's why I'm here.”“Yeah,...
Hymn of the Drexciya
I put on my uniform and looked at the reflection staring back at me. I wore all white, a contrast to my dark skin, and I put my braids in a ponytail. Wearing my hair down is inappropriate according to school regulations. I tuck the cowlick behind my ear into a braid. The cowlick is a split hair that everyone in my family has somewhere on their heads, and though tucking it into my braids only temporarily hides it I still do it because it’s more comfortable to know other people can’t see it. The collar was itchy on my neck, so I scratched it, but it wouldn’t dissipate. I scratched dee...
He was way too good!
Zac the Mac was ready. His name was really Zacchary MacDonald. He was in his final year of Deadbeat High School, in some leafy green suburb. He was the only son of his single mother, a nurse. She had brought Zac up to be a good Christian lad. He had stepped up to the plate to be the prayer leader of his local youth group at his church. Unfortunately for Zac the Mac, as he was nicknamed by his classmates, he was the shortest guy in their last year of high school. He had found it hard to compete in football and other sports. But he was a nifty runner, so he had been practicing. "I'm in your corn...
Top Poop Producer
“I thank the boss for this dinner and this award for Top Producer… Top Poop Producer… Top Poop Poop Producer. Poop Poop Pee Doo. “And may I say I got no help at all this year? Thank you. Thank you. Thank you, very much. And thank you Mr. Timmins. Our bossy boss who made me do sales pitches to every homeless person who wandered onto our car lot. “And thanks to our Deceptionist, Emily, for every client she directed my way who was either a bankrupt or an ex-convict. And Jonathan, my keep-your-eye-on-your-backdoor colleague, and a great poacher of clients. He’s such a great poacher, he should b...