And again
A mogul. There was no other words that could describe him, or his grasp over the splangatula market. He made red ones, green ones, elongated ones. If the word delumonaticratic actually meant something and wasn't a word randomly created in the back of a drunken hobo's mind in a drunken stupor after drinking several intoxicating drinks - then his company would make those too. He was a one-stop shop of success, situated almost permanently in a hot tub, and always surrounded by at least twenty women in skimpy, if any, clothing. Jerry certainly had changed from his earlier years.
He hadn't been Jerry all of his life. In actual fact, for some time, he went by another name, a name given to him by his parents; a name plagiarised upon by many others; a name that for a brief period of time had a holiday celebrated on June 14th. To his friends, he was known as Dave. Not long after his eighteenth birthday, he came into several millions of cold, hard cash. And it all started from there. At the age of twenty, he legally had his name changed to Jerry, as his publicisers thought it would be best if he was to put his less-than-amiable past behind him. It wasn't a name he chose himself, but a name he could agree with, and would live with.
Back on the road, the car was beginning to struggle. When he stopped at the garage earlier today, it would have been a wise idea to have actually filled up the petrol. However, wise ideas aren't often associated with his mindset. The engine began to choke, and slowly but surely, the black car pulled to a stop as he directed it to the hard shoulder. It was still several miles until he would reach Jerry's monolithic complex in the sky. But he had no choice, and was forced to continue on foot. It was once commented in his life that his thumb was a good hitchhiker's thumb. A thumb a hitchhiker could be proud of. But today, its hitchhiking ability must have been drained. That or the fact he was carrying a backpack with a pseudo-banana design was scaring people from picking him up. It was dark, possibly early into the morning, but without his watch, there was no way to tell. There wasn't many cars coming down the road, and the flickering lights created an eerie orange glow on the road that stretched into the city full of high-rise skyscrapers.
In the far distance, a red light could be seen on one of the buildings far above the other office blocks and various oversized statues of almost god-like-giant-lizards-who-attack-fishing-villages-on-the-coast-of-Japan. The Pursglove Media Group was an ominous presence leaning over the entire city. There were over eighty floors, but only one was he interested in - the very top. It would still be some time before he reached even the reception, but he was still determined, and marched onwards.
He walked; and continued to walk.
After half an hour of walking, the building still looked as distant. If he hadn't gambled with his cellphone, and hadn't completely maxed out every single one of his credit cards, he could have phoned for a cab. Except, he had previously ripped off one of the Cab companies in town, and now was blacklisted from all of them. Life certainly wasn't looking up. Suddenly, an obscene noise sounded, almost as if an elephant had decided that it could sing, and thought of serenading the streetlamp. However, it wasn't quite as exotic or peculiar as that, it was a car's horn.
Suddenly, a deep red car appeared in his view, and pulled off an extremely impressive handbrake turn, negotiating the traffic expertly and stopped right in front of him. The window rolled down, and a head popped out. The hair was long and wavy, and unmistakably, it was Kinnear.
"I knew it was you. There's only one person I could find walking along the highway at three in the morning," he blurted out. "Come on, get in, I'll give you a lift up to the town, I take it that's where you're going. You off to see the big Dee, right?" He nodded and jumped in the passenger's side. The engine revved, the wheels screeched, and after a quick pull-of-turn, Kinnear was soon speeding along the highway. "Let me guess, you bummed out, again." He still didn't say anything, but Kinnear knew what was going on. The traffic lights ahead turned to orange, and Kinnear put his foot down.
- Stee's Life and Other Stories about Kites, published 2012.
I've been enjoying the sunset outside the window for a while now... surprisingly really nice. In fact, I've got nothing else to say. Sunsets rock, peace out.
He hadn't been Jerry all of his life. In actual fact, for some time, he went by another name, a name given to him by his parents; a name plagiarised upon by many others; a name that for a brief period of time had a holiday celebrated on June 14th. To his friends, he was known as Dave. Not long after his eighteenth birthday, he came into several millions of cold, hard cash. And it all started from there. At the age of twenty, he legally had his name changed to Jerry, as his publicisers thought it would be best if he was to put his less-than-amiable past behind him. It wasn't a name he chose himself, but a name he could agree with, and would live with.
Back on the road, the car was beginning to struggle. When he stopped at the garage earlier today, it would have been a wise idea to have actually filled up the petrol. However, wise ideas aren't often associated with his mindset. The engine began to choke, and slowly but surely, the black car pulled to a stop as he directed it to the hard shoulder. It was still several miles until he would reach Jerry's monolithic complex in the sky. But he had no choice, and was forced to continue on foot. It was once commented in his life that his thumb was a good hitchhiker's thumb. A thumb a hitchhiker could be proud of. But today, its hitchhiking ability must have been drained. That or the fact he was carrying a backpack with a pseudo-banana design was scaring people from picking him up. It was dark, possibly early into the morning, but without his watch, there was no way to tell. There wasn't many cars coming down the road, and the flickering lights created an eerie orange glow on the road that stretched into the city full of high-rise skyscrapers.
In the far distance, a red light could be seen on one of the buildings far above the other office blocks and various oversized statues of almost god-like-giant-lizards-who-attack-fishing-villages-on-the-coast-of-Japan. The Pursglove Media Group was an ominous presence leaning over the entire city. There were over eighty floors, but only one was he interested in - the very top. It would still be some time before he reached even the reception, but he was still determined, and marched onwards.
He walked; and continued to walk.
After half an hour of walking, the building still looked as distant. If he hadn't gambled with his cellphone, and hadn't completely maxed out every single one of his credit cards, he could have phoned for a cab. Except, he had previously ripped off one of the Cab companies in town, and now was blacklisted from all of them. Life certainly wasn't looking up. Suddenly, an obscene noise sounded, almost as if an elephant had decided that it could sing, and thought of serenading the streetlamp. However, it wasn't quite as exotic or peculiar as that, it was a car's horn.
Suddenly, a deep red car appeared in his view, and pulled off an extremely impressive handbrake turn, negotiating the traffic expertly and stopped right in front of him. The window rolled down, and a head popped out. The hair was long and wavy, and unmistakably, it was Kinnear.
"I knew it was you. There's only one person I could find walking along the highway at three in the morning," he blurted out. "Come on, get in, I'll give you a lift up to the town, I take it that's where you're going. You off to see the big Dee, right?" He nodded and jumped in the passenger's side. The engine revved, the wheels screeched, and after a quick pull-of-turn, Kinnear was soon speeding along the highway. "Let me guess, you bummed out, again." He still didn't say anything, but Kinnear knew what was going on. The traffic lights ahead turned to orange, and Kinnear put his foot down.
- Stee's Life and Other Stories about Kites, published 2012.
I've been enjoying the sunset outside the window for a while now... surprisingly really nice. In fact, I've got nothing else to say. Sunsets rock, peace out.