Story Circle: Ballerino

[A little Chemical Billy experiment. Feel free to jump in; the water's warm.—Suzanne]

I get up to the door and knock. And wouldn't you know it, but now he's not making a sound, like I'm a jay-dub and he's just waiting, praying for me to leave before he goes back to his stompin' trompin' drum-circle frenzy. I knock again and lean my face into the crack of the doorjamb and say, 'cause I want him to know I know, so we all know, "Uh, sorry to disturb you, man, but I've got some guests over and, well, could you keep it down?" I rap on his door again.

I wait for a minute or two. Still no sound inside, so I shout through the closed door, "Thanks, man! Appreciate it."

I open the door to my own apartment softly, and Mara's still there, though now she's draped herself over the arm of the couch. Her now-bare feet are up on the cushions beside her, but she's looking so good, so hot, I don't say anything about that, just smile and sweep her long brown hair away from her neck with my hand, kiss her on the neck where it blends into her shoulder.

"Another glass of wine?"


[Click here to continue the story...]
[...and here...]
[and if you want a little tangent on that sandwich, click here]

Mom's Old Advice

Police need your help in identifying a man who dropped dead today in San Francisco's Noe Valley neighborhood.

According to the SF Chronicle:

The man appears to be Hispanic and looks approximately 25 years old, said San Francisco Medical Examiner investigator Tom McDonald. He is about 5'7" tall and 181 pounds, and he was walking down the 1500 block of Church Street when he collapsed.
"The death is under investigation, but it doesn't look trauma-related," McDonald said.
The man was wearing an extra-large blue hooded sweatshirt and Anchor Blue denim pants with a waist size 36-34. He had on Nike socks and high top sneakers, a black cloth belt with a white buckle, and a Mecca shirt that read, "The first since day one," and "Chase the dream not the competition." He also was wearing SpongeBob SquarePants boxer shorts. He had blue ink stains on his arms and hands as if he had been writing, McDonald said.

He was also wearing SpongeBob SqurePants boxer shorts.

Good lord, please let me never be found lying on the asphalt and described in the paper as wearing:

"...novelty holiday socks with cats and candycanes"

"...pink Tuesday panties, even though the body was discovered Monday"

Come to think of it, anything pink. Or anything acrylic.

"...denim pants with a comfort-stretch waist"

But if I'm found wearing

"...a faded Miskatonic University t-shirt"

"...a brown hoodie liberally covered in cat hair"

"...chipped and faded toe-nail polish and sandals"

That's okay with me.

I'm back!

Hola everyone; I'm back from vacation. (Yes, again.) I'm happy to be home, using a decent keyboard, finding only mild destruction of my home's contents by the kitties, and looking forward to fresh and plentiful vegetables on a daily basis.

But folks—and here I admit I am blatantly whining—no new comments. So sad. As Chemical Billy and that feller over at the Absorbascom have each recently pointed out, comments are the prize in the cereal box, the unexpected letter in the mail, the twenty-dollar-bill stuck to the side of the washing machine.

And I could really use a twenty dollar bill right about now...couldn't you?