(no subject)
The Stand Up.
By Woodruff Laputka
Ive been sitting here for hours, I thought. Surely, this girl must come sooner or later. I mean, who stands up a guy when he has to travel this far just to see her, eh? I took a sip of my Earl Grey and went back to the book I was eyeing. Rather catching, but wholly not on my mind. Slightly interested as I was, I went through the prologue, though not at all in record time. The people who hung around the small coffee shop in the book store eyed me with questioning stares. I tried not to look at them, wishing to simply get out of this plastic club for lower intellectuals. I was here to meet a girl, and to play Middle Eastern Music. Damnit! I have a Shawm here! The reflection on the window in front of me is extremely difficult to see through, I thought, taking another sip of my tea.
The ceiling gonged once, and I knew that I had been there for god knows how many hours. They were closing in 15 minutes, and I could feel the grip of anger pulling from behind my eyes. I tried not to think about it. I only set in that lounge chair with the wish to leave, go and play my shawm. Maybe a little sex, I thought. Either way, the care to produce something exquisite; not lounge about, sipping on Earl Grey in my Shinny black shoes listening Christmas carols in early November. God, it stinks of idiocy here. Damn it, Where is Anastasia! There goes that bell again. Has it been 15 minutes already? No, just somebody needing assistance at the front desk. 15 minutes should roll by fast enough. Perhaps I should get to my car as fast as possible, I thought. I still feel that pull, now gripping underneath my hips. I want to stay; to wait for Anastasia, but I know I cannot. Perhaps Nicole will think of me better, do to her knowing me longer. Though, perhaps she doesn’t know what to think.
There! In the midst of this calamity of Christmas debauchery and slanderous false esotericism, the bell rang a third time. “The store is now closing”. I should feel some lightening of spirits, but I only feel rage deep inside me. all those hours in vain. Sitting here with those faggots around me on their cell phones. I just wanted to play Middle Eastern music, you Fools! Leave me Alone! I’m Leaving this place, never to return.
As I walk out to my car, I take a look around the parking lot. Perhaps she will come by hoarse and buggy, I thought. No, No. She wont come at all. Girls never come when you tell them to…
By Woodruff Laputka
Ive been sitting here for hours, I thought. Surely, this girl must come sooner or later. I mean, who stands up a guy when he has to travel this far just to see her, eh? I took a sip of my Earl Grey and went back to the book I was eyeing. Rather catching, but wholly not on my mind. Slightly interested as I was, I went through the prologue, though not at all in record time. The people who hung around the small coffee shop in the book store eyed me with questioning stares. I tried not to look at them, wishing to simply get out of this plastic club for lower intellectuals. I was here to meet a girl, and to play Middle Eastern Music. Damnit! I have a Shawm here! The reflection on the window in front of me is extremely difficult to see through, I thought, taking another sip of my tea.
The ceiling gonged once, and I knew that I had been there for god knows how many hours. They were closing in 15 minutes, and I could feel the grip of anger pulling from behind my eyes. I tried not to think about it. I only set in that lounge chair with the wish to leave, go and play my shawm. Maybe a little sex, I thought. Either way, the care to produce something exquisite; not lounge about, sipping on Earl Grey in my Shinny black shoes listening Christmas carols in early November. God, it stinks of idiocy here. Damn it, Where is Anastasia! There goes that bell again. Has it been 15 minutes already? No, just somebody needing assistance at the front desk. 15 minutes should roll by fast enough. Perhaps I should get to my car as fast as possible, I thought. I still feel that pull, now gripping underneath my hips. I want to stay; to wait for Anastasia, but I know I cannot. Perhaps Nicole will think of me better, do to her knowing me longer. Though, perhaps she doesn’t know what to think.
There! In the midst of this calamity of Christmas debauchery and slanderous false esotericism, the bell rang a third time. “The store is now closing”. I should feel some lightening of spirits, but I only feel rage deep inside me. all those hours in vain. Sitting here with those faggots around me on their cell phones. I just wanted to play Middle Eastern music, you Fools! Leave me Alone! I’m Leaving this place, never to return.
As I walk out to my car, I take a look around the parking lot. Perhaps she will come by hoarse and buggy, I thought. No, No. She wont come at all. Girls never come when you tell them to…