I was twenty-three when I received the keys to my first studio apartment at Three-Forty-Seven Manhattan Avenue. No kid my age could afford such a thing. Especially with a record under my belt. But with Willie’s help at the time, he managed to get my record expunged and forced me to use the certification I gained during my two year stay in jail to get the kind of job that could help me pay the bills. Who knew learning about how to fix computers and shit would come in handy. Of course just fixing broken screens and replacing dead batteries weren’t enough to sustain the rent alone. Willie helped me get into a city program that paid for at least half and the rest I had to cover. Hence where RideShare came in. I’d heard about it one day while grabbing a quick bite to eat downstairs at the corner store and managed to get the details from the store owner who frequently used the ride service. Not too long after that, I was part of the RideShare explosion and picked up passengers from the airport almost every weekend when I wasn’t working at my other job.
Your alarm goes off at 6.15. As usual you press the snooze button, turn on your side and doze off for another ten minutes. You always had to have that ten minutes. When the alarm goes off again, you switch it off, turn on the bedside light and sit up.
Bitter tears rolled down his face, streaking across the blue shirt and ironed black trousers that encompassed his gentle 5 ft 10 in-200 pound body. And she watched him, heart breaking, mind going back to the conversation they had two weeks ago.
Umm...okay so I just wanted to get this off my chest and wrote a story specially dedicated to it, it's a vampire love story thingy. I know, it's very stupid but if you're trying to kill some time then...here we go:)))
Monologue in the persona of a women who has been domestically abused.
Tripping, tumbling goes my heart as I stare at the world in front of me. The flicker from the flame of the the torch making the shadows dance and part of me wishes to dance along with them. The night was dark and deep, the air, crisp and cold. It was the type of night you would be wise to stay inside, but your heart would long to be free. To be in the embrace of the fresh air outside.
I’ll never forget Ms. Fitzpatrick’s facial expression when Romance asked her:
She was about to close the drawer when she saw it. A simple long-sleeved shirt that she had bought at one of those Big Box stores. It was made of thick cotton and was one of her favorite shirts to wear when the air turned cool and nippy. She remembered the day she had bought it. She had traveled up to Sam's Club with her family. The day had been warm and mild when she left her house and she had dressed for the weather, wearing shorts and a T-shirt. Although the store was only an hour away, the weather was completely different. It was at least ten degrees colder, cloudy and blustery. She had been freezing and had bought the shirt in order to stay warm.