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|Blessing's In Disguise (standard:drama, 2187 words)|
|Author: Anonymous||Added: May 23 2003||Views/Reads: 7016/2006||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|It's about blessings in disguise. ;-)|
Blessings in Disguise A feeling of butterflies engrossed my fatigued body. I felt like I was falling off the monkey bars too fast. The thwarted sun shimmed through the window shade as the early alarm clock announced its horrible hum. My emerald eyes opened and I could feel my heart beating in my chest. The sounds reverberated in my ears, both the beats of my heart and the ringing of the alarm, urging me to wake up. Time inevitably persists as I search for the right clothes to wear: a comfortable shirt and some jeans. The shirt was easy to find, I had plenty of them. But the jeans I usually wore were dirty. I reached for an older pair. They didn't fit. After several minutes of struggling to get the pants on and almost losing balance and falling on my face, I gave up and threw the jeans onto the floor. The cursing and wailing of a horrible tantrum followed. To compensate for the loss time and the distress, I grabbed the dirty pair from a pile in the corner of my room and continued to get ready for work. The early morning sun struck my eyes and made them feel fatigued and glossy. I was driving east on Ward road, the Rockies behind me were shrinking, and I was sipping some coffee. The warm and rich Hawaiian blend felt soothing as it went down my throat. Some heinous song was on the radio now, disturbing my ears and since my antenna is broken, this is the only station I receive. I was approaching an intersection and a red light then appeared and since I was obviously not drunk I came to an abrupt stop, almost spilling the coffee onto my testicles. After regaining some consciousness I looked in my rear-view mirror and saw a murderess madman screeching to a halt, almost ruining my day! Luckily, he stopped in time. To my left, an old Toyota Celica pulled up. The driver looked like Stacy, a girl I knew. She must be on her way to school or something, I thought. We made eye contact, but it ended immediately due to embarrassment or something. Her face turned red and looked away. I'm a busser, so it's basically brainless work, therefore all day I just daydream about possible girlfriends and possible adventures that lay ahead. None of them usually come through. Work, as always was tedious and mundane, but I had some sort of motivation. Probably because today was “pay day.” Towards the end of the horrible seven-hour shift, I picked up my check and got the hell out of Dodge. I was on my cellular phone talking to a friend, Rob. “Thirty-four dollars! The goddamn government took out 34 dollars in statutory deductions!” I yelled. “They'll do that,” my friend calmly responds. “Obviously.” “Well, what's the score for tonight?” Rob asks. “What's the score every night?” I asked. “It's a great possibility that we sit in my basement and smoke pot; withOUT any chicas I might add.” “Sounds redundant,” is his response. “Redundant, indeed.” We were sitting in the basement at my house around 7:00 PM and the sun was still out, it being June and all. From upstairs my father yells, “clean that damn basement!” I make no response, my friend only continues to load a bowl of marijuana. “Shall we?” He asks and then blazes the bud. Click here to read the rest of this story (223 more lines)
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