My Short Story.

Hi fans! Long time, no fist bump. I have a story peeps. Just sit down!
So today I’ve woken up to a confused world. Actually, all i remember about yesterday is that i was broke, had gobbled some 4 slices of bread as supper (the only food remnant in my room) then since life is boring, sat down, brain went drowsy and sank into a trance.
BOREDThen like magic it’s morning, jolted awake by some vibration at my groin. Oh really, before you start thinking hard, it’s my phone. Aha, a ‘bird’ model. Maybe I’m just out of touch, but the bird was ringing, and had vibrated her way from my arms ( due to overnight’s frenzy of chronic chatting with I’ll-tell-u-who ) to my groin.
So of course I fumble around ‘there’ with my hands lazily, reach out, and successfully get a hold, answering it gasping by pressing the ‘call’ key. But ‘bird’ stupidly falls on the floor. OK, I unfold knees, put on my slippers and what?! I feel something sharp moving around under my foot. I dramatically go down onto my knees, at a wince of pain, dampening my ludicrous bandages (yeah, I’d fought some thug who was trying to rob a lady I’ll-tell-u-who the day before yesterday) with water from the wet floor (what?! room’s flooded!)
cat At first, I thought someone had hidden a speck of grit inside them for a joke but it turned out that I had simply stepped on the cat without noticing. Poor little mite, his blood and guts were smeared all over the kitchen floor before I noticed him dangling there in between my toes.
So ‘bird’ was ringing again, safely tucked in the polyester covering that I’d made for her, which is simply a nightmare of stitches and originality. She wasn’t wet yet. Yeah, I mean wet, you sinner! The floor’s flooded remember? I gaspingly dash for her, answer the phone, and whoa?! It’s I’ll-tell-u-who. ‘Hello?’ I go, ‘Baron Hotschaft Von Hugenstein here, who is it?’ . ‘Joe, it’s me, I love you’ she mutters. In a distant stare reminiscent of a toddler trying to learn quantum physics, normally I’d respond to such overtures with a ‘oh, you’re really thinking hard’ or ‘i like your hair’. But i don’t.
boy-girl1I said, ‘Thank you’. Pwahaha, I’m crazy. Who does that? Okay, how common is it for a girl to say, ‘I love you’ first? Time to flee, or so i suppose.

Still on my story, you following?I’m still dazed. Some lady fell in love with me because I saved her from thugs? I mean, that cutie with voluminous dark hair, extravagant jewellery, black stilettos with scuffs on the heel could fall for a make-up phobic like me? Lol.

I’m not finished. She continued, like a joke, ‘Joe, would you marry me?’ What?! A lady’s imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment. I couldn’t possibly picture I’ll-tell-u-who , with her slight figure, and grey-brown fake hair, later on in my life, nursing children from fat breasts, chapped nipples, succumbing slowly to the natural bodily decline of motherhood – sagging stretchmarks, cerebral despondency etc. So i tell her, “In a movie-drama acting piece of setting, I’d marry you, but now, no, I’m waiting for the Rapture.” Ha ha, or maybe I don’t have an open mind, the trouble with having one, of course is that people will insist on coming along and trying to put things in it, even plants will try you (weed).

End-of-story! BYE! :d

2 thoughts on “My Short Story.

  1. i know => ‘maybe I don’t have an open mind, the trouble with having one, of course is that people will insist on coming along and trying to put things in it, even plants will try you (weed).’


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