Time ticks by slowly as I tap the worn eraser of my pencil on my notepad. Only three more hours to go. One hour each. Each hour consists of three sets of twenty minutes. If I can just make it through nine sets of twenty minutes, I will be alright.
Oh who am I kidding, I will be dead after the first five minutes of waiting. I tap the pencil more aggressively on my pad waiting for a miracle, or a natural disaster, whichever one gets me off work is fine with me.
My eyes scan the dimly lit restaurant. Fancy folded napkins lay on each table with low lights hovering above casting a slight shadow over the couples that snuggle in their booths.
A buzz of romantic chatter filters throughout the building. Glasses of wine clink together as people make
…show more content…
I swear I cannot stand this filthy excuse of a holiday. If it is such a fucking important day then why am I at work? I could be doing better things right now. Ido have a life you know?
My eyes roll so far back in my head they might just get stuck there. Although that does not sound to bad, I could get a seeing eye dog. I love dogs.
My pencil taps more furiously on my pad. Two hours and fifty five minutes to go. Well I did not die within my five minutes of waiting. Not even going to lie...I wish I had.
The door opens drawing me away from my slightly suicidal thoughts to an eager redhead practically skipping my way.
"Guess who's getting dick this weekend," she sings into my ear as she engulfs me in a hug.
"Lucky you."
She grabs me by my shoulders and smiles brightly before turning around and grabbing her apron. She spins back around, her bouncy curls swinging around her chin.
"Aren't you happy for me Ally?"
"Of course I am. You know I love hearing about your hoe escapades Sam," I laugh.
She winks and leans against the counter, "You know I might actually keep this
…show more content…
"And for you? What would you like to eat?"
"What I want is not exactly on the menu baby," he licks his bottom lip and winks.
I smile and lean slightly over.
"What about picking something that is then."
i have always hated guys like him. He sits there with his chest poked out like he owns the world and that everything revolves around him I am choking from his abnormally large ego and testosterone aroma of filth. He stares at me and I stare back until he finally gives me an order to take to the kitchen.
As I walk away I hear, "For a bitch she has a nice ass don't you think?"
I turn around and stomp up next to him getting in his face.
"You really should not piss off the bitch who brings you your food. Anything could happen to it."
He gulps and looks straight ahead at the business man in front of him then to the other man who just looks down at the table and fidgets with the napkins. That's what I thought. He is nothing but a hormonal little boy who looks to others for help when he gets his dick stuck up his butt.
I head back and violently rip off the paper sticking it on the order board and flop down onto a stool
when he's mad" and he goes and finds something to do so he is not. noticed. I have been a snobber.
Cherish The heavy clomp walking sound that came from deep inside of the forest. He wishes he had never heard it. He wishes he could just pretend nothing is happening. It stops not too far from him, but all he can hear is his heartbeat thumping so hard within his chest.
I opened my eyes and was blinded by the piercing ray of light pointing right into my eyes, a massive headache was pounding my head, and all I could hear was the sound of a high pitched whistle. Until I hear something else. Voices? No. Not just that, but yells, cries for help, people sobbing.
It was a eerily cold night. The storm ripped at the sailor's face. The wind and sea howled almost calling for a soul on the ship to join those already lost in the sea. the crew ran to and from tying cargo down. the ship tossed like a toy boat in a pond and passengers stuggled to stand as their vessel rocked back and forth.
Breath, taken for granted every second of everyday. It just happens, breathe in breathe out. Anything can be taken away in an instant. Eka a twenty three year old student has his first vacation since he started college to become a tectonic plate scientist. With his mother, papa, two sisters, and a newborn baby boy.
Why is he being such a little bitch? Did I not just spend the entirety of my afternoon frying rice, grilling chicken, and steaming veggies so that you don't have to deduct from your precious
" I reply with a confused expression on my face. "Go take a break, Dear. I'll handle this lovely lady's order. " She instructs.
Just three minutes left in the seven minutes of terror. I saw him furiously typing commands on his keyboard. I looked up and gasped, the numbers were going down. We were slowing down. We had a chance to land this.
It's not such a big deal these days! - Can't you see that he's using you? - Please! He spoils me rotten. I'm not taking you with me.
Days later... Things have been different but in a good way. It's like Evan is a different person. Or maybe he's just himself now. He stopped avoiding me, we can talk for hours without him getting all moody.
It was a cool December evening. She looked up at the sound of the train’s horn, chugging in the distance, signaling its arrival. The KN Express pulled up to her platform, the sun’s rays reflecting off it's still wet surface from the rains that had just passed a little while ago. She gave way for the alighting crowd before she hoisted herself up the stairs to her compartment. Pulling her little bag on wheels behind her, she found the train almost deserted.
After he swears that it couldn’t possibly be his own fault that he could not sexually perform correctly because of your personal belongings that adorn your rooms, you should taunt the man into his own deprecation. When he threatens to write nasty things about you publicly, and as Lady Wortley Montagu had written to quote the dean, “I’ll describe your dressing room / The very Irish shall not come!” (1561, 86-87), try as he might to “describe your dressing room” with heavily exaggerated details and slander. Please follow the ideology of her response, “I’m glad you’ll write.
“Okay, shoot.” Tilting her head sideways, she spoke. “I’ve always wanted to take one of those couples bread baking classes. You know where you learn to make fresh bread together.
and it makes me cringe. He has become stronger, I can feel it in his hands. He seems all too familiar with using his rigid grip upon women. I wonder what he has been doing with this tight grip of his. He walks me up to a group on silent women and gives me a shove into the
Imagine it is one’s first day in high school. Standing in front befalls the entrance way to your new future, thinking of what lies ahead from the perspective of a middle school grad. One would perhaps have mixed emotions as to what to expect. Observing the new students around the corridors, it transpires as if they are dragging their feet to progress inside, for the reason that they are fresh from the blissful summer days; they are in exchange, yet again, to the reality of school homework, projects, reports and tests. Some have queries and doubts in their minds; what does one expect of themselves getting into a high school life such as this? “What remains in store for me, I wonder…” “This school year is going to be subsequently much tougher