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Comment here, leaving an original drabble request. A word, a scenario, an image, a feeling, whatever. I'll write a short snippet involving characters or situations made up on the fly.
Interested, anyone?
Need ideas cause writers block has completely smashed me.
Interested, anyone?
Need ideas cause writers block has completely smashed me.
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Kale has this thing about brownies. Simply put, he hates them, because they were his favorite--probably still are, if he would stop being stubborn.
But he insists,'I left that person a long time ago.' What can you do? He's such an idiot.
Such an pretenous asshole. I would smack him upside the head, if I could; but since it wouldn't even faze him, I do the only thing I can.
"What smells so good?" The first words out of his mouth, and I smile, because they have condemned him.
Guess what? I baked brownies.
Uh...yeah....well, I did say it would be made up on the fly. Short Explanation--Kale ran away from home (hence the leaving thing--he's talking about himself) And the Narrator is his roomate. Who likes to make his life a living hell.
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He has such long legs stop---staring at them, Such long strides and it's so annoying--not really-- because I'll never be able to catch up to him
"Kiley, wait!"
"Yes?"
"Um..."
"Did you want to say something?"
"Yeah. I..."
I just want to say that you're perfect and I'm screwed cause I think I might like you just a bit too much and God help me 'cause you don't even know I exist and what do I say now? You're staring, don't stare at me, don't look at me, please...
"Well?"
"I just wanted to say Hi."
"Then hi, I guess.."
"Hey Kiley! Over here! We're leaving you behind if you don't hurry up."
"I gotta go."
"Yeah."
Another day, another awkward moment...
IN THE CAR:
"Kiley."
"Yeah."
"Who was that girl?"
"I dunno. Keeps chasing me down to say hi. It's so annoying."
............
-_- Ergh.....That was bad. Kiley's a guy by the way. And my WB hasn't lifted. Not. One. Bit.
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"AGH!!!!!!"
"Michelle, calm down...."
"GET. THAT. THING. AWAY. FROM. ME."
"I don't get it, what's so bad about a ..."
"NOW!!!!!!!!!!!"
"Okay, okay. Sheesh..."
"Phew." <--- relieved sigh
"I repeat, what's so bad about some salami?"
"..itlookslikeasnake..."
......
I would so do that, too...
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Yawn. Hit that damn flourescent green ball. Yawn again.
Whack!
The opponent is overzealous. 3...2...1...
"Game!Match! Set!"
Another day, another game won, and another multimillion contract.
I should be happy. But why did it feel so much better when it was just me and a battered tennis ball?
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He was the one who got away.
I still wait by the door everyday. Still count down the days since he's been gone. Look at the empty bed and bite my lip, because crying isn't going to bring him home.
"Still waiting?"
I nod. The sun dies on the horizon, a slow agonzing death, drawn out for us mere mortals to enjoy.
Missing him has made me dramatic. Depressed.
"Jack'll be back on Friday. Stop moping. It was just a routine operation."
"But..."
"Relax. The vet'll call the moment you can pick him up."
"Okay. But the deserted chew toys look so sad..."
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