Renewed Spontineity_Florida Man_Romance, Grey and Desperate_Through the Jungle and Other Ways to Es
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Renewed Spontineity
“What’ll you have handsome?"The waitress asking me smiles. She appears to be in her late sixties, blue eye shadow solidified into deep crevices making her eyelids look like a slightly schizophrenic map for some uncharted backcountry.I stare at her for a moment, wondering if I might recognize her before responding, “Something different. I’m in a rut, a holding pattern if you will, and I need to try new things. Typically, I would order the meatloaf so surprise me,” I say before adding, “oh, and a coke too please.”“Well, we don’t get too fancy around here at this diner, but I’m sure we can come u...
Florida Man
Miami⛱⛱⛱“Well, that was dramatic.”“You know the drill. We had to put a hood on you. It's better you don't know where you are.”“You could have just beaten me up on the street.”“Where’s the fun in that? Now, look Ricky, we’re tired of waiting for our money.” “I got your money . . . it’s just tied up.”“No, you are tied up. Hit him again.”“That’s not necessary—Oof!”“C’mon, Ricky. Don’t make www.onedoor.ccus mess up your pretty face. Well, maybe it’s not so pretty anymore, and maybe your girlfriend won’t like you as much anymore.”“Keep my girlfriend’s name out of your mouth.”“Don’t you worry about my mouth. You ...
Romance, Grey and Desperate
I can’t do this. We’re only seventeen. I pull back the covers, swing my legs over the side of the cot, and stand up quietly. I grab my pistol from under my pillow and slip on a jacket from the hook at the door. I unbolt the door quietly, slip out of the bunker, and lock it behind me. I move slowly up the steps to the world’s surface. I look at the moon. It’s paper-thin and grey. Probably around four in the morning. I glance around. Everything, of course, is flat. Shattered remains of glass, concrete, wood, barbed wire, metal, bricks, and hope lay still, tumbled dustily over each other, stretch...
Through the Jungle and Other Ways to Escape
TW: mental illness, substance abuseMom’s guy ran out of benzos, so I figured it was better for me to bring Paul anywhere but home after school. When her pills wore off, at best she’d leave soap bars in the sink with the water running to expose the listening devices she was convinced were hidden inside; at worst, she’d believe that Paul and I were minions of Satan sent to spy on her. Better for us to stay out of her hair, in case it went the second way.Before school, she emerged from her bedroom in a discolored robe. She watched me zip the half-finished homework Paul left on the kitchen table i...