Gone fishing.
On the way to the murky lake, all Geoff could think of was how much he wanted change. What was it he wanted to change? People were never to be free because they live under so many rules, he figured. If he could just get rid of rules, he could set everyone free and let them choose how to live. His eyes gazed out the window to keep them occupied while his mind worked.
Steve tapped him on the arm, looking away from his steering wheel as he drove up to the countryside. "Today's going to be fun, huh buddy?" he said in a rather harsh voice. Geoff didn't like fishing but realized that Steve was trying to bond with him. Frankly, he was sick of Steve. Steve had been ruining his life and bothering him for over two months, now. The car stopped in a field which dropped off and looked over the murky water that was Cascade Lake. The two got out their rods and headed down the dull hill, finally reaching the lowland. Fish peeked out from the water to see what the big deal was, their gaping mouths falling back down into the water to tell their friends of the two idiots with fishing rods. Steve took a wrigling worm out of his tackle box and hooked it. It flailed wildly for a moment and then slowly began to die. Geoff lay on the lawnchair with a blank expression plastered onto his face. Steve casted out and stared into the water for a sign of life. None. The day passed and Steve downed a few beers, noticing that Geoff had all but fallen asleep.
Geoff awoke to see Steve standing over him, his hand placed on Geoff's genitals. Geoff faked his sleep and Steve paused, looking guilty. He took a lawnchair next to him and started to sleep. Geoff waited fifteen minutes and then peeked an eye over to Steve.
Geoff began to climb the hill to find the biggest rock he could carry.
Steve tapped him on the arm, looking away from his steering wheel as he drove up to the countryside. "Today's going to be fun, huh buddy?" he said in a rather harsh voice. Geoff didn't like fishing but realized that Steve was trying to bond with him. Frankly, he was sick of Steve. Steve had been ruining his life and bothering him for over two months, now. The car stopped in a field which dropped off and looked over the murky water that was Cascade Lake. The two got out their rods and headed down the dull hill, finally reaching the lowland. Fish peeked out from the water to see what the big deal was, their gaping mouths falling back down into the water to tell their friends of the two idiots with fishing rods. Steve took a wrigling worm out of his tackle box and hooked it. It flailed wildly for a moment and then slowly began to die. Geoff lay on the lawnchair with a blank expression plastered onto his face. Steve casted out and stared into the water for a sign of life. None. The day passed and Steve downed a few beers, noticing that Geoff had all but fallen asleep.
Geoff awoke to see Steve standing over him, his hand placed on Geoff's genitals. Geoff faked his sleep and Steve paused, looking guilty. He took a lawnchair next to him and started to sleep. Geoff waited fifteen minutes and then peeked an eye over to Steve.
Geoff began to climb the hill to find the biggest rock he could carry.