Gimme something to dance to.... [prompt response for popsawheelie]
Tristan is none other than
knowslegalese . Yet again...
popsawheelie is being used with looooove
It'd been one of those no good very bad kind of days. He'd spilled his coffee all over his favorite shirt. Then the sick baby next to him on the train had puked all over his shoes. Then as he tried for coffee no. 3 (two had also met with a disastrous end... one that had best not be mentioned), he poured salt instead of sugar into his 'Life is Good' mug. Yeah. All of this managed to transpire before ten, even. So Ophrah held little hope that things would improve as the day wore on.
Boy was he right. There were spitwads and broken instruments and malfunctioning overhead projectors that smelled of burning. When 4 PM finally rolled around, he was thrilled for work to be done and simultaneously convinced that his day was cursed.
'No. Make that the last couple of days.' his thoughts roared; Oph recalled the phone call with his brother. The massive failure of a phone call. The phone call that he had botched. Majorly. His little brother comes out and what does he do? Nothing. Silence. Then he makes some excuse that he doesn't even recall and hangs up. To make matters worse, he'd yet to call Tristan to apologize or let him know it wasn't a big deal (even if it kind of was).
So at five o'clock when he'd finally made it home, Ophrah wasn't sure that calling Julie would even be wise. It could all go horribly wrong. Everything else had already. He flipped his phone open and scrolled to her number a dozen times before closing it. It was stupid this being scared bit. Why wouldn't it be a good idea to see her? At the very least, she could cheer him up. She was good at that. Great even. He loved her for it she was that good. Two more minutes of thinking passed before he finally called.
They went for coffee and cookies and a slice of pie. He was hungry and more than a bit depressed. Oph didn't know how to broach the topic he needed to discuss. His brother's big little confession. So he chose instead to recount his day. His awful, terrible, no good day. She laughed, as really anyone would do, but it only made him feel a bit worse. And yet still he failed to mention the important topic he'd called her up to discuss.
Another round of coffee and pie crossed the table and just as Oph yet again chickened out of talking about Tristan, 'Wannabe' came on. So in a tiny coffee shop with no dance floor to speak of, he dragged a protesting then laughing Julie to dance. So maybe it was just awkward twirling and maybe they were being stared at by the other patrons. He found it really didn't matter. His favorite song was playing. He was dancing with his girl. They could all just go die in a fire.
Three and a half minutes later, he finally cleared his foul mood enough to talk about what he'd really really wanted to talk about in the first place.
"So... my brother and I spoke the other day..."
knowslegalese . Yet again...
popsawheelie is being used with looooove
It'd been one of those no good very bad kind of days. He'd spilled his coffee all over his favorite shirt. Then the sick baby next to him on the train had puked all over his shoes. Then as he tried for coffee no. 3 (two had also met with a disastrous end... one that had best not be mentioned), he poured salt instead of sugar into his 'Life is Good' mug. Yeah. All of this managed to transpire before ten, even. So Ophrah held little hope that things would improve as the day wore on.
Boy was he right. There were spitwads and broken instruments and malfunctioning overhead projectors that smelled of burning. When 4 PM finally rolled around, he was thrilled for work to be done and simultaneously convinced that his day was cursed.
'No. Make that the last couple of days.' his thoughts roared; Oph recalled the phone call with his brother. The massive failure of a phone call. The phone call that he had botched. Majorly. His little brother comes out and what does he do? Nothing. Silence. Then he makes some excuse that he doesn't even recall and hangs up. To make matters worse, he'd yet to call Tristan to apologize or let him know it wasn't a big deal (even if it kind of was).
So at five o'clock when he'd finally made it home, Ophrah wasn't sure that calling Julie would even be wise. It could all go horribly wrong. Everything else had already. He flipped his phone open and scrolled to her number a dozen times before closing it. It was stupid this being scared bit. Why wouldn't it be a good idea to see her? At the very least, she could cheer him up. She was good at that. Great even. He loved her for it she was that good. Two more minutes of thinking passed before he finally called.
They went for coffee and cookies and a slice of pie. He was hungry and more than a bit depressed. Oph didn't know how to broach the topic he needed to discuss. His brother's big little confession. So he chose instead to recount his day. His awful, terrible, no good day. She laughed, as really anyone would do, but it only made him feel a bit worse. And yet still he failed to mention the important topic he'd called her up to discuss.
Another round of coffee and pie crossed the table and just as Oph yet again chickened out of talking about Tristan, 'Wannabe' came on. So in a tiny coffee shop with no dance floor to speak of, he dragged a protesting then laughing Julie to dance. So maybe it was just awkward twirling and maybe they were being stared at by the other patrons. He found it really didn't matter. His favorite song was playing. He was dancing with his girl. They could all just go die in a fire.
Three and a half minutes later, he finally cleared his foul mood enough to talk about what he'd really really wanted to talk about in the first place.
"So... my brother and I spoke the other day..."