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New Years Eve :Frerard: -1-
I sat, and sighed heavily, eyes fixated on the hardwood floor. My fingers curled around the wine bottle, swinging it slightly, and took a sip.
I tapped my heels to toes against the floors. My hands were shaking, anticipating, and fearing for the bell to ring or for a knock at the door.
God dammit, this is a bad idea… This is Mikey's fault. This is all his fault.
Happy motherfucking new years, cunts.
Recently, I have relapsed.
My girlfriend left me, and I spiraled into a pit of darkness. I've been drinking, cutting, and doing drugs. And my brother has decided I needed to move on and start over.
I said no, obviously, and just let me be in my own darkness.
But no, of course.
He signed me up for this blind date program.
This was not going to end well.
Suddenly, someone knocked on the door.
My heart leapt from my chest. I swallowed my fear and pride, and stood up. I set the wine bottle down on the counter, and slid the lock over. I held my breath, hand on the door
Cemetery Drive 1
Happiness. That's all Frank felt at this very moment. Happiness, sitting next to Mikey on the couch as he sipped sweet smelling coffee as they avidly watched Dawn of the Dead. Though they've both seen this a million times, it doesn't get old.
Frank smiled and cuddled up against Mikey.
Mikey was never one to smile.
All his life people have asked him if he was okay, if he was mad, stuff like that, but it's just his face, sadly.
He just doesn't smile that much.
But when he says he's happy, people believe it. He never seemed the one to get too down in the dumps.
"I have an idea." Frank said.
Without speaking, Mikey averted his light brown eyes to the small man beside him. Frank smirked, his honey eyes glistening in the low light. Mikey was getting cautious, nervous of what Frank had in mind.
Frank always had the wildest ideas.
He was always up for something and had the craziest amounts of energy, inspiration bursting out of nowhere.
He was made of sunshine, Mikey would say.
Frank lunged at
Cemetery Drive 2
"I made breakfast!" Mikey chirped, and moved towards the stove, sliding pancakes and bacon onto a plate. Soy bacon, of course.
Frank's a vegetarian. Mikey respects that and does what he can to support and help.
He set the plates on the table along with the butter container and syrup.
"Thanks, Mikey, babe." He smiled and scooped some butter onto his pancakes while nomming on a bacon strip.
He smiled and coated his fluffy pancakes in maple syrup, creating a honey brown pool around the edges. He cut them up into little pieces and began to eat.
"Ooh!" Frank exclaimed and stood up and retrieved the orange juice jug from the refrigerator and filled up too little glasses.
He smiled and kissed Mikey on the lips, his lips already feeling sticky. He didn't mind. They ate together in silence, but it was comfortable. They didn't mind. Just being next to each other was all it took to make them happy. They were inseparable.
When they finished their breakfast and downed the juice, they p
Southern modernizationBlack comedy market economy, banana peel political humour, cards with the cartels, the solution free room service and credit the union. Bolivar twist, ding dong dollar under control, valley of the coin desert with no value. Gangsta paradise, the victims are the people. Big mac and cold conflict interference a part of it all. In little Mexico you’d need a high horse to jump the great border wall that boasts its peak.
Viracocha melts waters unlike those it rose from, making waves of out of metal oceans to overtake the current south, re-steel, re-take, tech-mechs the entire south into neo-Machu Picchu, cyberpunk music moulding, reshaping old society into an new age, iron dynasty, fresh coat for an old, ancient look. The coattails of Quetzalcoatl if he were a modern man pull together the merge of future and long passed past..techno temples and the like.
SolaceShe never slept well in the dark,
not without the children of the sun and moon
to guide her weary lids home.
Guided by the aftermath, she was always two steps behind.
What did the world look like to the girl who had been through it all?
Braved the heaviest of storms,
yet skipping over cracks in the pavement.
They said her eyes were the wisps of clouds before the storm.
To him they were reflections of pages overlooked.
She said it was like she lived the life of someone she had never met.
Laid out to dry, yesterdays news.
He knew her as the girl who was built to never collapse.
He wished he was too.
He loved her more than words could say, and yet her pain was such,
that at times, he feared she wouldn’t make it.
But on nights like these, even when it threatened to consume her,
he became convinced that somehow she would.
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