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The AftermathPROLOGUE There were birds. Birds—swallows, it sounded like—were singing from somewhere in the distance. Trilling in a sharp and far too sweet voice, they had woken him from an exhausted slumber. She was there again just before his eyes opened, ever-present in his dreams; her face was round and soft and so very familiar that it pained him that her name now eluded him. The sun was just overhead and the grass was warm beneath his fingertips. It was only then that it occurred to him to wonder where he was. He glanced about and realized the gentle grass extended to form a small, overgrown field. He dug his fingers into the soft earth and felt the mud squish in his palms and felt the wet on the back of his t-shirt. It must have rained recently. He lolled his head to the side and saw large, untrimmed blades of grass and weeds running alongside of what seemed to be highly corroded train tracks. His eyes followed them down, toward his feet, and not
Somethin' Bout A TruckThat ratty, beat-up ole Chevy rolled on down the dusty road as the sun was just starting to meet the horizon. The dash read seven-thirty two, and the vehicle’s occupants had just gotten off work. As they pulled to a stop, the six packs of Budweiser slid into the toolbox, and the engine stalled. The two doors opened and two pairs of dusty, worn boots hit the ground.“El, you just make sure no one sees us; I’ll open up the gates.”“Keith, r’you sure Mr. Potts ain’t gonna mind us sitting out here?”Keith just unlatched the gate marked “NO TRESPASSING,” and turned to grin at Ellis.“We ain’t hurting nobody, Ellis. What’s the big deal?”Ellis straightened his cap and reached to grab the beer, but Keith hopped back up in the cab. Ellis shot him a curious glance in the side mirror.“I’mma pull it on up in there. That way cops don’t get suspicious. Plus,” he added, raising his voice over
Nope. No Slendertalia Here. None at All...The night was still and quiet, and the moon covered the garden in a silky blanket of pale light. The dew had just settled atop the blades of grass, making them cool and slick as a man made his way into the night and towards the center of this lovely place- this place he called his own. The British man (Arthur, his name was), had made his way into his backyard and into his garden in search of his reading glasses. He had just cozied up in bed with an old favorite book of his when he realized he was squinting awfully hard. Not wanting the headache that would have surely attacked him if he had continued on that way, he headed outside for his spectacles that had been abandoned since afternoon tea.Suddenly, the wind picked up and the trees and bushes rustled under its touch, causing the small blonde to start.'Oh, goodness! What am I- a little girl, afraid of her own shadow? Hah. It was just the wind. I should really calm down a bit,' he thought, feeling rather silly for letting the
Painful IndecisionPainful IndecisionMay I ask you a question?I know this seems abrupt.However, it's something I must mention.If I ask you, will things change?I love how we are right now.I wouldn't want to make things strange.But I quite absolutely must know.The "friend zone" is a place I dread,But if the question rolls off my tongue,I fear our friendship might be dead.God, it's driving me crazy-This question mark flying about my head!But then
what if you say, "Yes"?I don't know if we could stand the painThat would surely come if we failed time's test.But then
what if you say, "No"?Of course, everything would be awkward then.Further and further apart surely we'd grow.So, may I ask you a question, miss?I know this seems sudden, but
What would you say if I asked for a kiss?Nevermind.