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Old 08-28-2003, 09:26 AM   #91
moel
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Join Date: Nov 2002
Location: dithyramb
Posts: 3,102
Tuesday morning Travis awoke to the sound of his roommate yelling at him for the dishes in the sink. He sighed, rolled over and solemnly picked his nose for awhile. He began to ruminate about his new life, and just exactly how he had ended up this way. The freedom he used to take for granted had evaporated with the new demands of work and all those unpaid bills. What had he been envisioning when he made up his mind to run? What thoughts pushed their way 'round Travis's supernaturally round head were typically unininteresting and this morning was no exception.

He rolled over and pulled the sheets over his eyes. If only the little man in the corner store had been wrong in predicting his future. It scared him to think that he may indeed have to run again, if they found out. You see, he had always been in love with the idea of becoming a storyteller. But this dream had been cut short by his frequent yet random episodes of profound paranoia. The little man had been experimenting with several types of homemade pharmaceuticals, searching for deeper meaning and freedom within these newfound realms. His favorite experience was traveling throughout India, hiking up the highest mountains and hang-gliding off. As a result, he had frequent loss of feeling, a numbness, in his left foot.

Trying to get the blood out of his shirt in the bathroom sink, Travis further pondered the little man's story. He'd had to return to the States to bury his half-brother. He'd been sick since his last week in the high country. A bacterial infection from a local anesthetic that he was given was just recently linked to 35 deaths in Uruguay. Hopefully, his case was less severe in its final outcome. There was still plenty of work to be done, and he wasn't going to let a little case of the runs keep him from doing it. He told all of this to Travis before he finally came to the thing Travis least wanted to hear: "They know where you are."

Just as matter of fact and conversational as a New York stock broker informs his client of a gang of elephants threatening to steal his car, the little man dropped his bit of information with an all-knowing grin. Travis would have rather heard about elephants, but his left foot was going numb again as he ran the cold water, and he had to acknowledge the fact that he couldn't even run from where he was. If they decided to come and get him, then he could forget all about his laundry. He would have to find the one person he knew who could give him answers.

Yes, the woman that most called drunk from a phone booth after last call. He'd met her in a laundromat while looking for quarters behind the machines. Her voice was a testament to years of smoking and heavy drinking. It was the most uninhibited sound he'd ever heard. A strange power radiated from her--he found her without much conscious effort. The alley seemed vacant and reeked of urine but in a dim corner of Travis' mind he saw himself as George Peppard and this chain smoking venus as Audrey Hepburn.

"It should be raining and there should be a bad guy lurking round the corner with a gun," she said and lit another cigarette.

"Yeah but then you'd be too busy pretending to ignore me, and I wouldn't be able to buy you dinner and pick your brain," Travis told her. Her name was always on the tip of his tongue, even on days when he hardly knew his own. He hadn't seen her in what seemed like ages. It was doubtful she would remember the thread of their last conversation, which he had attempted to turn to something more than what always amounted in the end to a teasingly worded exchange of information. Then, he had felt certain of success, for it was never his intention to become seriously involved.

As his thoughts progressed awkwardly, he headed toward the Pic 'N' Pay on the corner, beckoning for her to follow. "Come on, you can't have any allegiance to that bastard still. He's so dark and self absorbed he's started to bend light. Let's get a Slushie and let me tell you all I've learned about your mystery man". He could see this was the wrong thing to say immediately it was out of his mouth. She visibly withdrew and stared intensely at her shoes. She started to say something and then paused, the words were just too hard to say. "Travis," she started again, "I'm not some kind of oracle, you know. Those mysteries you keep pursuing could very well be around the next corner, or found with the next person you meet."

She sighed and heedlessly tossed her cigarette butt into a nearby puddle. Further away a cat emerged from a small wooden crate as if to complete the surreal "Breakfast at Tiffany's" parody playing out in Travis's wee little mind. He stifled a giggle and snot flew out of his nose like buckshot. He pretended not to notice but felt his face go hot and his mind flicker with embarrassment. He quickly glanced at her - she was looking intensely at the enormous trail of snot falling from his nose and onto her shoes. As she shook her head, he stammered "H-Ho-How about them Jets?" as he turned and wiped his face on his sleeve. When he turned back she suddenly pulled him into a passionate embrace, sending him reeling. Travis could not believe she was turned on by a blast of snot, he thought to himself, "hey, whatever gets her going." As the seconds ticked by, Travis realized his left foot had gone numb again and he was losing his balance. "What the..." she mumbled as she watched Travis fall below her hemline.

He looked up sheepishly, but not before feeling the sharp jab of pain in his left foot. This sudden return of sensation was enough to break him from the reverie of what he saw when he looked up.

He blushed and tried to figure out if he really saw what he thought he saw. "Was she really not wearing panties," Travis thought, thinking he'd feint down again to check. He brushed off his slacks and shivered at the thought of a skirt and no panties in this temperature. He was about to attempt a feigned trip over the laundry basket next to him when his roommate appeared.

He was sweaty and clearly panicking over something. Travis put the panties issue on hold and feels himself deflate as his roomate starts frantically babbling about the bloody sink back at the apartment, a shirt, the cops at the front door.

Ashen, Travis made a last attempt to calm himself, then fell insensible to the floor. The roomate looked up at the smoking woman as she commented "that's the third time he's been down there today."

She winked and, in an attempt at subtle allure, shifted so her skirt was hiked up further on her weather-beaten thighs. Travis lay still but could not force his eyes away from the sight. His roommate coughed loudly, attempting to break him from this repeated reverie.

"Dude," he said, "the blood, the cops, the little man at the corner store... look at me when I'm talking to you." Travis still could not divert his stare; it had been a long time and he thought he spied dental floss.

"Cops..." he said, regretfully pulling his gaze away to his roommate. "Y-you said something about cops?" His roomate sighed and pointed at the owner of the bodega talking to two men in seersucker suits. "You don't think that they will find me hiding in her skirt do you?" As Ashen answered Travis thought to himself, "Ashen looks awfully pale today, he should get more sunlight." Realizing that he'd missed most of what Ashen said, Travis quickly tried to change the subject, fumbling badly. "Hey, what was that movie where all the cops turned out to be thieves in costumes? "The sting" Ashen replied with what appeared to be spit hanging off of his chin. I still question the substance clinging on for dear life to his stuble, but it apeared to be a sign. Once I'd realized this, I immediatly checked my horoscope, for this must be a sign from the stars.

Things could be up and down for you today, dear Sagittarius.
Don't be surprised if you are recruited to join a project that is
totally new to you. You may be apprehensive at first, but you
will do just fine. Go ahead and say yes.

"The stars have always shown me the way," thought Travis, smiling inwardly, I suppose it's my time to shine. Sliding each arm gingerly around his companion's shoulders he knew this was it. A new grace had dawned in Travis’s life; things will be different now, now things will be done right.

“Um… dude? Why are you touching me?” asked his roommate, but it was a rhetorical question. By now he knew the dude's idiosyncracies and was just interested in trying to get him to focus up and pay back a thirty five dollar loan before the cops bitch slapped his ass into the next century.

Travis, unphased, spoke with remarkable vigor. "Don't you ever give up? I told you it was hopeless! Besides, even if
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Old 08-29-2003, 09:08 PM   #92
nycwriters
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Posts: 4,134
Tuesday morning Travis awoke to the sound of his roommate yelling at him for the dishes in the sink. He sighed, rolled over and solemnly picked his nose for awhile. He began to ruminate about his new life, and just exactly how he had ended up this way. The freedom he used to take for granted had evaporated with the new demands of work and all those unpaid bills. What had he been envisioning when he made up his mind to run? What thoughts pushed their way 'round Travis's supernaturally round head were typically unininteresting and this morning was no exception.

He rolled over and pulled the sheets over his eyes. If only the little man in the corner store had been wrong in predicting his future. It scared him to think that he may indeed have to run again, if they found out. You see, he had always been in love with the idea of becoming a storyteller. But this dream had been cut short by his frequent yet random episodes of profound paranoia. The little man had been experimenting with several types of homemade pharmaceuticals, searching for deeper meaning and freedom within these newfound realms. His favorite experience was traveling throughout India, hiking up the highest mountains and hang-gliding off. As a result, he had frequent loss of feeling, a numbness, in his left foot.

Trying to get the blood out of his shirt in the bathroom sink, Travis further pondered the little man's story. He'd had to return to the States to bury his half-brother. He'd been sick since his last week in the high country. A bacterial infection from a local anesthetic that he was given was just recently linked to 35 deaths in Uruguay. Hopefully, his case was less severe in its final outcome. There was still plenty of work to be done, and he wasn't going to let a little case of the runs keep him from doing it. He told all of this to Travis before he finally came to the thing Travis least wanted to hear: "They know where you are."

Just as matter of fact and conversational as a New York stock broker informs his client of a gang of elephants threatening to steal his car, the little man dropped his bit of information with an all-knowing grin. Travis would have rather heard about elephants, but his left foot was going numb again as he ran the cold water, and he had to acknowledge the fact that he couldn't even run from where he was. If they decided to come and get him, then he could forget all about his laundry. He would have to find the one person he knew who could give him answers.

Yes, the woman that most called drunk from a phone booth after last call. He'd met her in a laundromat while looking for quarters behind the machines. Her voice was a testament to years of smoking and heavy drinking. It was the most uninhibited sound he'd ever heard. A strange power radiated from her--he found her without much conscious effort. The alley seemed vacant and reeked of urine but in a dim corner of Travis' mind he saw himself as George Peppard and this chain smoking venus as Audrey Hepburn.

"It should be raining and there should be a bad guy lurking round the corner with a gun," she said and lit another cigarette.

"Yeah but then you'd be too busy pretending to ignore me, and I wouldn't be able to buy you dinner and pick your brain," Travis told her. Her name was always on the tip of his tongue, even on days when he hardly knew his own. He hadn't seen her in what seemed like ages. It was doubtful she would remember the thread of their last conversation, which he had attempted to turn to something more than what always amounted in the end to a teasingly worded exchange of information. Then, he had felt certain of success, for it was never his intention to become seriously involved.

As his thoughts progressed awkwardly, he headed toward the Pic 'N' Pay on the corner, beckoning for her to follow. "Come on, you can't have any allegiance to that bastard still. He's so dark and self absorbed he's started to bend light. Let's get a Slushie and let me tell you all I've learned about your mystery man". He could see this was the wrong thing to say immediately it was out of his mouth. She visibly withdrew and stared intensely at her shoes. She started to say something and then paused, the words were just too hard to say. "Travis," she started again, "I'm not some kind of oracle, you know. Those mysteries you keep pursuing could very well be around the next corner, or found with the next person you meet."

She sighed and heedlessly tossed her cigarette butt into a nearby puddle. Further away a cat emerged from a small wooden crate as if to complete the surreal "Breakfast at Tiffany's" parody playing out in Travis's wee little mind. He stifled a giggle and snot flew out of his nose like buckshot. He pretended not to notice but felt his face go hot and his mind flicker with embarrassment. He quickly glanced at her - she was looking intensely at the enormous trail of snot falling from his nose and onto her shoes. As she shook her head, he stammered "H-Ho-How about them Jets?" as he turned and wiped his face on his sleeve. When he turned back she suddenly pulled him into a passionate embrace, sending him reeling. Travis could not believe she was turned on by a blast of snot, he thought to himself, "hey, whatever gets her going." As the seconds ticked by, Travis realized his left foot had gone numb again and he was losing his balance. "What the..." she mumbled as she watched Travis fall below her hemline.

He looked up sheepishly, but not before feeling the sharp jab of pain in his left foot. This sudden return of sensation was enough to break him from the reverie of what he saw when he looked up.

He blushed and tried to figure out if he really saw what he thought he saw. "Was she really not wearing panties," Travis thought, thinking he'd feint down again to check. He brushed off his slacks and shivered at the thought of a skirt and no panties in this temperature. He was about to attempt a feigned trip over the laundry basket next to him when his roommate appeared.

He was sweaty and clearly panicking over something. Travis put the panties issue on hold and feels himself deflate as his roomate starts frantically babbling about the bloody sink back at the apartment, a shirt, the cops at the front door.

Ashen, Travis made a last attempt to calm himself, then fell insensible to the floor. The roomate looked up at the smoking woman as she commented "that's the third time he's been down there today."

She winked and, in an attempt at subtle allure, shifted so her skirt was hiked up further on her weather-beaten thighs. Travis lay still but could not force his eyes away from the sight. His roommate coughed loudly, attempting to break him from this repeated reverie.

"Dude," he said, "the blood, the cops, the little man at the corner store... look at me when I'm talking to you." Travis still could not divert his stare; it had been a long time and he thought he spied dental floss.

"Cops..." he said, regretfully pulling his gaze away to his roommate. "Y-you said something about cops?" His roomate sighed and pointed at the owner of the bodega talking to two men in seersucker suits. "You don't think that they will find me hiding in her skirt do you?" As Ashen answered Travis thought to himself, "Ashen looks awfully pale today, he should get more sunlight." Realizing that he'd missed most of what Ashen said, Travis quickly tried to change the subject, fumbling badly. "Hey, what was that movie where all the cops turned out to be thieves in costumes? "The sting" Ashen replied with what appeared to be spit hanging off of his chin. I still question the substance clinging on for dear life to his stuble, but it apeared to be a sign. Once I'd realized this, I immediatly checked my horoscope, for this must be a sign from the stars.

Things could be up and down for you today, dear Sagittarius.
Don't be surprised if you are recruited to join a project that is
totally new to you. You may be apprehensive at first, but you
will do just fine. Go ahead and say yes.

"The stars have always shown me the way," thought Travis, smiling inwardly, I suppose it's my time to shine. Sliding each arm gingerly around his companion's shoulders he knew this was it. A new grace had dawned in Travis’s life; things will be different now, now things will be done right.

“Um… dude? Why are you touching me?” asked his roommate, but it was a rhetorical question. By now he knew the dude's idiosyncracies and was just interested in trying to get him to focus up and pay back a thirty five dollar loan before the cops bitch slapped his ass into the next century.

Travis, unphased, spoke with remarkable vigor. "Don't you ever give up? I told you it was hopeless! Besides, even if I could get out of here, they'd find me."

Ashen looked
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Old 08-31-2003, 07:10 AM   #93
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Tuesday morning Travis awoke to the sound of his roommate yelling at him for the dishes in the sink. He sighed, rolled over and solemnly picked his nose for awhile. He began to ruminate about his new life, and just exactly how he had ended up this way. The freedom he used to take for granted had evaporated with the new demands of work and all those unpaid bills. What had he been envisioning when he made up his mind to run? What thoughts pushed their way 'round Travis's supernaturally round head were typically unininteresting and this morning was no exception.

He rolled over and pulled the sheets over his eyes. If only the little man in the corner store had been wrong in predicting his future. It scared him to think that he may indeed have to run again, if they found out. You see, he had always been in love with the idea of becoming a storyteller. But this dream had been cut short by his frequent yet random episodes of profound paranoia. The little man had been experimenting with several types of homemade pharmaceuticals, searching for deeper meaning and freedom within these newfound realms. His favorite experience was traveling throughout India, hiking up the highest mountains and hang-gliding off. As a result, he had frequent loss of feeling, a numbness, in his left foot.

Trying to get the blood out of his shirt in the bathroom sink, Travis further pondered the little man's story. He'd had to return to the States to bury his half-brother. He'd been sick since his last week in the high country. A bacterial infection from a local anesthetic that he was given was just recently linked to 35 deaths in Uruguay. Hopefully, his case was less severe in its final outcome. There was still plenty of work to be done, and he wasn't going to let a little case of the runs keep him from doing it. He told all of this to Travis before he finally came to the thing Travis least wanted to hear: "They know where you are."

Just as matter of fact and conversational as a New York stock broker informs his client of a gang of elephants threatening to steal his car, the little man dropped his bit of information with an all-knowing grin. Travis would have rather heard about elephants, but his left foot was going numb again as he ran the cold water, and he had to acknowledge the fact that he couldn't even run from where he was. If they decided to come and get him, then he could forget all about his laundry. He would have to find the one person he knew who could give him answers.

Yes, the woman that most called drunk from a phone booth after last call. He'd met her in a laundromat while looking for quarters behind the machines. Her voice was a testament to years of smoking and heavy drinking. It was the most uninhibited sound he'd ever heard. A strange power radiated from her--he found her without much conscious effort. The alley seemed vacant and reeked of urine but in a dim corner of Travis' mind he saw himself as George Peppard and this chain smoking venus as Audrey Hepburn.

"It should be raining and there should be a bad guy lurking round the corner with a gun," she said and lit another cigarette.

"Yeah but then you'd be too busy pretending to ignore me, and I wouldn't be able to buy you dinner and pick your brain," Travis told her. Her name was always on the tip of his tongue, even on days when he hardly knew his own. He hadn't seen her in what seemed like ages. It was doubtful she would remember the thread of their last conversation, which he had attempted to turn to something more than what always amounted in the end to a teasingly worded exchange of information. Then, he had felt certain of success, for it was never his intention to become seriously involved.

As his thoughts progressed awkwardly, he headed toward the Pic 'N' Pay on the corner, beckoning for her to follow. "Come on, you can't have any allegiance to that bastard still. He's so dark and self absorbed he's started to bend light. Let's get a Slushie and let me tell you all I've learned about your mystery man". He could see this was the wrong thing to say immediately it was out of his mouth. She visibly withdrew and stared intensely at her shoes. She started to say something and then paused, the words were just too hard to say. "Travis," she started again, "I'm not some kind of oracle, you know. Those mysteries you keep pursuing could very well be around the next corner, or found with the next person you meet."

She sighed and heedlessly tossed her cigarette butt into a nearby puddle. Further away a cat emerged from a small wooden crate as if to complete the surreal "Breakfast at Tiffany's" parody playing out in Travis's wee little mind. He stifled a giggle and snot flew out of his nose like buckshot. He pretended not to notice but felt his face go hot and his mind flicker with embarrassment. He quickly glanced at her - she was looking intensely at the enormous trail of snot falling from his nose and onto her shoes. As she shook her head, he stammered "H-Ho-How about them Jets?" as he turned and wiped his face on his sleeve. When he turned back she suddenly pulled him into a passionate embrace, sending him reeling. Travis could not believe she was turned on by a blast of snot, he thought to himself, "hey, whatever gets her going." As the seconds ticked by, Travis realized his left foot had gone numb again and he was losing his balance. "What the..." she mumbled as she watched Travis fall below her hemline.

He looked up sheepishly, but not before feeling the sharp jab of pain in his left foot. This sudden return of sensation was enough to break him from the reverie of what he saw when he looked up.

He blushed and tried to figure out if he really saw what he thought he saw. "Was she really not wearing panties," Travis thought, thinking he'd feint down again to check. He brushed off his slacks and shivered at the thought of a skirt and no panties in this temperature. He was about to attempt a feigned trip over the laundry basket next to him when his roommate appeared.

He was sweaty and clearly panicking over something. Travis put the panties issue on hold and feels himself deflate as his roomate starts frantically babbling about the bloody sink back at the apartment, a shirt, the cops at the front door.

Ashen, Travis made a last attempt to calm himself, then fell insensible to the floor. The roomate looked up at the smoking woman as she commented "that's the third time he's been down there today."

She winked and, in an attempt at subtle allure, shifted so her skirt was hiked up further on her weather-beaten thighs. Travis lay still but could not force his eyes away from the sight. His roommate coughed loudly, attempting to break him from this repeated reverie.

"Dude," he said, "the blood, the cops, the little man at the corner store... look at me when I'm talking to you." Travis still could not divert his stare; it had been a long time and he thought he spied dental floss.

"Cops..." he said, regretfully pulling his gaze away to his roommate. "Y-you said something about cops?" His roomate sighed and pointed at the owner of the bodega talking to two men in seersucker suits. "You don't think that they will find me hiding in her skirt do you?" As Ashen answered Travis thought to himself, "Ashen looks awfully pale today, he should get more sunlight." Realizing that he'd missed most of what Ashen said, Travis quickly tried to change the subject, fumbling badly. "Hey, what was that movie where all the cops turned out to be thieves in costumes? "The sting" Ashen replied with what appeared to be spit hanging off of his chin. I still question the substance clinging on for dear life to his stuble, but it apeared to be a sign. Once I'd realized this, I immediatly checked my horoscope, for this must be a sign from the stars.

Things could be up and down for you today, dear Sagittarius.
Don't be surprised if you are recruited to join a project that is
totally new to you. You may be apprehensive at first, but you
will do just fine. Go ahead and say yes.

"The stars have always shown me the way," thought Travis, smiling inwardly, I suppose it's my time to shine. Sliding each arm gingerly around his companion's shoulders he knew this was it. A new grace had dawned in Travis’s life; things will be different now, now things will be done right.

“Um… dude? Why are you touching me?” asked his roommate, but it was a rhetorical question. By now he knew the dude's idiosyncracies and was just interested in trying to get him to focus up and pay back a thirty five dollar loan before the cops bitch slapped his ass into the next century.

Travis, unphased, spoke with remarkable vigor. "Don't you ever give up? I told you it was hopeless! Besides, even if I could get out of here, they'd find me."

Ashen looked not to validate friendship, nor to help draw conclusions; Travis sensing his roomies dismay. The Banging Girl standing there, smoking, beckoned
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Old 09-03-2003, 09:22 PM   #94
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Tuesday morning Travis awoke to the sound of his roommate yelling at him for the dishes in the sink. He sighed, rolled over and solemnly picked his nose for awhile. He began to ruminate about his new life, and just exactly how he had ended up this way. The freedom he used to take for granted had evaporated with the new demands of work and all those unpaid bills. What had he been envisioning when he made up his mind to run? What thoughts pushed their way 'round Travis's supernaturally round head were typically unininteresting and this morning was no exception.

He rolled over and pulled the sheets over his eyes. If only the little man in the corner store had been wrong in predicting his future. It scared him to think that he may indeed have to run again, if they found out. You see, he had always been in love with the idea of becoming a storyteller. But this dream had been cut short by his frequent yet random episodes of profound paranoia. The little man had been experimenting with several types of homemade pharmaceuticals, searching for deeper meaning and freedom within these newfound realms. His favorite experience was traveling throughout India, hiking up the highest mountains and hang-gliding off. As a result, he had frequent loss of feeling, a numbness, in his left foot.

Trying to get the blood out of his shirt in the bathroom sink, Travis further pondered the little man's story. He'd had to return to the States to bury his half-brother. He'd been sick since his last week in the high country. A bacterial infection from a local anesthetic that he was given was just recently linked to 35 deaths in Uruguay. Hopefully, his case was less severe in its final outcome. There was still plenty of work to be done, and he wasn't going to let a little case of the runs keep him from doing it. He told all of this to Travis before he finally came to the thing Travis least wanted to hear: "They know where you are."

Just as matter of fact and conversational as a New York stock broker informs his client of a gang of elephants threatening to steal his car, the little man dropped his bit of information with an all-knowing grin. Travis would have rather heard about elephants, but his left foot was going numb again as he ran the cold water, and he had to acknowledge the fact that he couldn't even run from where he was. If they decided to come and get him, then he could forget all about his laundry. He would have to find the one person he knew who could give him answers.

Yes, the woman that most called drunk from a phone booth after last call. He'd met her in a laundromat while looking for quarters behind the machines. Her voice was a testament to years of smoking and heavy drinking. It was the most uninhibited sound he'd ever heard. A strange power radiated from her--he found her without much conscious effort. The alley seemed vacant and reeked of urine but in a dim corner of Travis' mind he saw himself as George Peppard and this chain smoking venus as Audrey Hepburn.

"It should be raining and there should be a bad guy lurking round the corner with a gun," she said and lit another cigarette.

"Yeah but then you'd be too busy pretending to ignore me, and I wouldn't be able to buy you dinner and pick your brain," Travis told her. Her name was always on the tip of his tongue, even on days when he hardly knew his own. He hadn't seen her in what seemed like ages. It was doubtful she would remember the thread of their last conversation, which he had attempted to turn to something more than what always amounted in the end to a teasingly worded exchange of information. Then, he had felt certain of success, for it was never his intention to become seriously involved.

As his thoughts progressed awkwardly, he headed toward the Pic 'N' Pay on the corner, beckoning for her to follow. "Come on, you can't have any allegiance to that bastard still. He's so dark and self absorbed he's started to bend light. Let's get a Slushie and let me tell you all I've learned about your mystery man". He could see this was the wrong thing to say immediately it was out of his mouth. She visibly withdrew and stared intensely at her shoes. She started to say something and then paused, the words were just too hard to say. "Travis," she started again, "I'm not some kind of oracle, you know. Those mysteries you keep pursuing could very well be around the next corner, or found with the next person you meet."

She sighed and heedlessly tossed her cigarette butt into a nearby puddle. Further away a cat emerged from a small wooden crate as if to complete the surreal "Breakfast at Tiffany's" parody playing out in Travis's wee little mind. He stifled a giggle and snot flew out of his nose like buckshot. He pretended not to notice but felt his face go hot and his mind flicker with embarrassment. He quickly glanced at her - she was looking intensely at the enormous trail of snot falling from his nose and onto her shoes. As she shook her head, he stammered "H-Ho-How about them Jets?" as he turned and wiped his face on his sleeve. When he turned back she suddenly pulled him into a passionate embrace, sending him reeling. Travis could not believe she was turned on by a blast of snot, he thought to himself, "hey, whatever gets her going." As the seconds ticked by, Travis realized his left foot had gone numb again and he was losing his balance. "What the..." she mumbled as she watched Travis fall below her hemline.

He looked up sheepishly, but not before feeling the sharp jab of pain in his left foot. This sudden return of sensation was enough to break him from the reverie of what he saw when he looked up.

He blushed and tried to figure out if he really saw what he thought he saw. "Was she really not wearing panties," Travis thought, thinking he'd feint down again to check. He brushed off his slacks and shivered at the thought of a skirt and no panties in this temperature. He was about to attempt a feigned trip over the laundry basket next to him when his roommate appeared.

He was sweaty and clearly panicking over something. Travis put the panties issue on hold and feels himself deflate as his roomate starts frantically babbling about the bloody sink back at the apartment, a shirt, the cops at the front door.

Ashen, Travis made a last attempt to calm himself, then fell insensible to the floor. The roomate looked up at the smoking woman as she commented "that's the third time he's been down there today."

She winked and, in an attempt at subtle allure, shifted so her skirt was hiked up further on her weather-beaten thighs. Travis lay still but could not force his eyes away from the sight. His roommate coughed loudly, attempting to break him from this repeated reverie.

"Dude," he said, "the blood, the cops, the little man at the corner store... look at me when I'm talking to you." Travis still could not divert his stare; it had been a long time and he thought he spied dental floss.

"Cops..." he said, regretfully pulling his gaze away to his roommate. "Y-you said something about cops?" His roomate sighed and pointed at the owner of the bodega talking to two men in seersucker suits. "You don't think that they will find me hiding in her skirt do you?" As Ashen answered Travis thought to himself, "Ashen looks awfully pale today, he should get more sunlight." Realizing that he'd missed most of what Ashen said, Travis quickly tried to change the subject, fumbling badly. "Hey, what was that movie where all the cops turned out to be thieves in costumes? "The sting" Ashen replied with what appeared to be spit hanging off of his chin. I still question the substance clinging on for dear life to his stuble, but it apeared to be a sign. Once I'd realized this, I immediatly checked my horoscope, for this must be a sign from the stars.

Things could be up and down for you today, dear Sagittarius.
Don't be surprised if you are recruited to join a project that is
totally new to you. You may be apprehensive at first, but you
will do just fine. Go ahead and say yes.

"The stars have always shown me the way," thought Travis, smiling inwardly, I suppose it's my time to shine. Sliding each arm gingerly around his companion's shoulders he knew this was it. A new grace had dawned in Travis’s life; things will be different now, now things will be done right.

“Um… dude? Why are you touching me?” asked his roommate, but it was a rhetorical question. By now he knew the dude's idiosyncracies and was just interested in trying to get him to focus up and pay back a thirty five dollar loan before the cops bitch slapped his ass into the next century.

Travis, unphased, spoke with remarkable vigor. "Don't you ever give up? I told you it was hopeless! Besides, even if I could get out of here, they'd find me."

Ashen looked not to validate friendship, nor to help draw conclusions; Travis sensing his roomies dismay. The Banging Girl standing there, smoking, beckoned them both back to the built-in drink cooler. In the far left door, beneath the Gatorade, Powerade and energy drinks
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Old 09-04-2003, 06:32 PM   #95
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Location: Beautiful styrofom box on the beach
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Tuesday morning Travis awoke to the sound of his roommate yelling at him for the dishes in the sink. He sighed, rolled over and solemnly picked his nose for awhile. He began to ruminate about his new life, and just exactly how he had ended up this way. The freedom he used to take for granted had evaporated with the new demands of work and all those unpaid bills. What had he been envisioning when he made up his mind to run? What thoughts pushed their way 'round Travis's supernaturally round head were typically unininteresting and this morning was no exception.

He rolled over and pulled the sheets over his eyes. If only the little man in the corner store had been wrong in predicting his future. It scared him to think that he may indeed have to run again, if they found out. You see, he had always been in love with the idea of becoming a storyteller. But this dream had been cut short by his frequent yet random episodes of profound paranoia. The little man had been experimenting with several types of homemade pharmaceuticals, searching for deeper meaning and freedom within these newfound realms. His favorite experience was traveling throughout India, hiking up the highest mountains and hang-gliding off. As a result, he had frequent loss of feeling, a numbness, in his left foot.

Trying to get the blood out of his shirt in the bathroom sink, Travis further pondered the little man's story. He'd had to return to the States to bury his half-brother. He'd been sick since his last week in the high country. A bacterial infection from a local anesthetic that he was given was just recently linked to 35 deaths in Uruguay. Hopefully, his case was less severe in its final outcome. There was still plenty of work to be done, and he wasn't going to let a little case of the runs keep him from doing it. He told all of this to Travis before he finally came to the thing Travis least wanted to hear: "They know where you are."

Just as matter of fact and conversational as a New York stock broker informs his client of a gang of elephants threatening to steal his car, the little man dropped his bit of information with an all-knowing grin. Travis would have rather heard about elephants, but his left foot was going numb again as he ran the cold water, and he had to acknowledge the fact that he couldn't even run from where he was. If they decided to come and get him, then he could forget all about his laundry. He would have to find the one person he knew who could give him answers.

Yes, the woman that most called drunk from a phone booth after last call. He'd met her in a laundromat while looking for quarters behind the machines. Her voice was a testament to years of smoking and heavy drinking. It was the most uninhibited sound he'd ever heard. A strange power radiated from her--he found her without much conscious effort. The alley seemed vacant and reeked of urine but in a dim corner of Travis' mind he saw himself as George Peppard and this chain smoking venus as Audrey Hepburn.

"It should be raining and there should be a bad guy lurking round the corner with a gun," she said and lit another cigarette.

"Yeah but then you'd be too busy pretending to ignore me, and I wouldn't be able to buy you dinner and pick your brain," Travis told her. Her name was always on the tip of his tongue, even on days when he hardly knew his own. He hadn't seen her in what seemed like ages. It was doubtful she would remember the thread of their last conversation, which he had attempted to turn to something more than what always amounted in the end to a teasingly worded exchange of information. Then, he had felt certain of success, for it was never his intention to become seriously involved.

As his thoughts progressed awkwardly, he headed toward the Pic 'N' Pay on the corner, beckoning for her to follow. "Come on, you can't have any allegiance to that bastard still. He's so dark and self absorbed he's started to bend light. Let's get a Slushie and let me tell you all I've learned about your mystery man". He could see this was the wrong thing to say immediately it was out of his mouth. She visibly withdrew and stared intensely at her shoes. She started to say something and then paused, the words were just too hard to say. "Travis," she started again, "I'm not some kind of oracle, you know. Those mysteries you keep pursuing could very well be around the next corner, or found with the next person you meet."

She sighed and heedlessly tossed her cigarette butt into a nearby puddle. Further away a cat emerged from a small wooden crate as if to complete the surreal "Breakfast at Tiffany's" parody playing out in Travis's wee little mind. He stifled a giggle and snot flew out of his nose like buckshot. He pretended not to notice but felt his face go hot and his mind flicker with embarrassment. He quickly glanced at her - she was looking intensely at the enormous trail of snot falling from his nose and onto her shoes. As she shook her head, he stammered "H-Ho-How about them Jets?" as he turned and wiped his face on his sleeve. When he turned back she suddenly pulled him into a passionate embrace, sending him reeling. Travis could not believe she was turned on by a blast of snot, he thought to himself, "hey, whatever gets her going." As the seconds ticked by, Travis realized his left foot had gone numb again and he was losing his balance. "What the..." she mumbled as she watched Travis fall below her hemline.

He looked up sheepishly, but not before feeling the sharp jab of pain in his left foot. This sudden return of sensation was enough to break him from the reverie of what he saw when he looked up.

He blushed and tried to figure out if he really saw what he thought he saw. "Was she really not wearing panties," Travis thought, thinking he'd feint down again to check. He brushed off his slacks and shivered at the thought of a skirt and no panties in this temperature. He was about to attempt a feigned trip over the laundry basket next to him when his roommate appeared.

He was sweaty and clearly panicking over something. Travis put the panties issue on hold and feels himself deflate as his roomate starts frantically babbling about the bloody sink back at the apartment, a shirt, the cops at the front door.

Ashen, Travis made a last attempt to calm himself, then fell insensible to the floor. The roomate looked up at the smoking woman as she commented "that's the third time he's been down there today."

She winked and, in an attempt at subtle allure, shifted so her skirt was hiked up further on her weather-beaten thighs. Travis lay still but could not force his eyes away from the sight. His roommate coughed loudly, attempting to break him from this repeated reverie.

"Dude," he said, "the blood, the cops, the little man at the corner store... look at me when I'm talking to you." Travis still could not divert his stare; it had been a long time and he thought he spied dental floss.

"Cops..." he said, regretfully pulling his gaze away to his roommate. "Y-you said something about cops?" His roomate sighed and pointed at the owner of the bodega talking to two men in seersucker suits. "You don't think that they will find me hiding in her skirt do you?" As Ashen answered Travis thought to himself, "Ashen looks awfully pale today, he should get more sunlight." Realizing that he'd missed most of what Ashen said, Travis quickly tried to change the subject, fumbling badly. "Hey, what was that movie where all the cops turned out to be thieves in costumes? "The sting" Ashen replied with what appeared to be spit hanging off of his chin. I still question the substance clinging on for dear life to his stuble, but it apeared to be a sign. Once I'd realized this, I immediatly checked my horoscope, for this must be a sign from the stars.

Things could be up and down for you today, dear Sagittarius.
Don't be surprised if you are recruited to join a project that is
totally new to you. You may be apprehensive at first, but you
will do just fine. Go ahead and say yes.

"The stars have always shown me the way," thought Travis, smiling inwardly, I suppose it's my time to shine. Sliding each arm gingerly around his companion's shoulders he knew this was it. A new grace had dawned in Travis’s life; things will be different now, now things will be done right.

“Um… dude? Why are you touching me?” asked his roommate, but it was a rhetorical question. By now he knew the dude's idiosyncracies and was just interested in trying to get him to focus up and pay back a thirty five dollar loan before the cops bitch slapped his ass into the next century.

Travis, unphased, spoke with remarkable vigor. "Don't you ever give up? I told you it was hopeless! Besides, even if I could get out of here, they'd find me."

Ashen looked not to validate friendship, nor to help draw conclusions; Travis sensing his roomies dismay. The Banging Girl standing there, smoking, beckoned them both back to the built-in drink cooler. In the far left door, beneath the Gatorade, Powerade and energy drinks was a secret door that he had forgoten about from long ago. While opening the door, Travis found to his dismay
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Old 09-06-2003, 10:59 AM   #96
moel
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Join Date: Nov 2002
Location: dithyramb
Posts: 3,102
Tuesday morning Travis awoke to the sound of his roommate yelling at him for the dishes in the sink. He sighed, rolled over and solemnly picked his nose for awhile. He began to ruminate about his new life, and just exactly how he had ended up this way. The freedom he used to take for granted had evaporated with the new demands of work and all those unpaid bills. What had he been envisioning when he made up his mind to run? What thoughts pushed their way 'round Travis's supernaturally round head were typically unininteresting and this morning was no exception.

He rolled over and pulled the sheets over his eyes. If only the little man in the corner store had been wrong in predicting his future. It scared him to think that he may indeed have to run again, if they found out. You see, he had always been in love with the idea of becoming a storyteller. But this dream had been cut short by his frequent yet random episodes of profound paranoia. The little man had been experimenting with several types of homemade pharmaceuticals, searching for deeper meaning and freedom within these newfound realms. His favorite experience was traveling throughout India, hiking up the highest mountains and hang-gliding off. As a result, he had frequent loss of feeling, a numbness, in his left foot.

Trying to get the blood out of his shirt in the bathroom sink, Travis further pondered the little man's story. He'd had to return to the States to bury his half-brother. He'd been sick since his last week in the high country. A bacterial infection from a local anesthetic that he was given was just recently linked to 35 deaths in Uruguay. Hopefully, his case was less severe in its final outcome. There was still plenty of work to be done, and he wasn't going to let a little case of the runs keep him from doing it. He told all of this to Travis before he finally came to the thing Travis least wanted to hear: "They know where you are."

Just as matter of fact and conversational as a New York stock broker informs his client of a gang of elephants threatening to steal his car, the little man dropped his bit of information with an all-knowing grin. Travis would have rather heard about elephants, but his left foot was going numb again as he ran the cold water, and he had to acknowledge the fact that he couldn't even run from where he was. If they decided to come and get him, then he could forget all about his laundry. He would have to find the one person he knew who could give him answers.

Yes, the woman that most called drunk from a phone booth after last call. He'd met her in a laundromat while looking for quarters behind the machines. Her voice was a testament to years of smoking and heavy drinking. It was the most uninhibited sound he'd ever heard. A strange power radiated from her--he found her without much conscious effort. The alley seemed vacant and reeked of urine but in a dim corner of Travis' mind he saw himself as George Peppard and this chain smoking venus as Audrey Hepburn.

"It should be raining and there should be a bad guy lurking round the corner with a gun," she said and lit another cigarette.

"Yeah but then you'd be too busy pretending to ignore me, and I wouldn't be able to buy you dinner and pick your brain," Travis told her. Her name was always on the tip of his tongue, even on days when he hardly knew his own. He hadn't seen her in what seemed like ages. It was doubtful she would remember the thread of their last conversation, which he had attempted to turn to something more than what always amounted in the end to a teasingly worded exchange of information. Then, he had felt certain of success, for it was never his intention to become seriously involved.

As his thoughts progressed awkwardly, he headed toward the Pic 'N' Pay on the corner, beckoning for her to follow. "Come on, you can't have any allegiance to that bastard still. He's so dark and self absorbed he's started to bend light. Let's get a Slushie and let me tell you all I've learned about your mystery man". He could see this was the wrong thing to say immediately it was out of his mouth. She visibly withdrew and stared intensely at her shoes. She started to say something and then paused, the words were just too hard to say. "Travis," she started again, "I'm not some kind of oracle, you know. Those mysteries you keep pursuing could very well be around the next corner, or found with the next person you meet."

She sighed and heedlessly tossed her cigarette butt into a nearby puddle. Further away a cat emerged from a small wooden crate as if to complete the surreal "Breakfast at Tiffany's" parody playing out in Travis's wee little mind. He stifled a giggle and snot flew out of his nose like buckshot. He pretended not to notice but felt his face go hot and his mind flicker with embarrassment. He quickly glanced at her - she was looking intensely at the enormous trail of snot falling from his nose and onto her shoes. As she shook her head, he stammered "H-Ho-How about them Jets?" as he turned and wiped his face on his sleeve. When he turned back she suddenly pulled him into a passionate embrace, sending him reeling. Travis could not believe she was turned on by a blast of snot, he thought to himself, "hey, whatever gets her going." As the seconds ticked by, Travis realized his left foot had gone numb again and he was losing his balance. "What the..." she mumbled as she watched Travis fall below her hemline.

He looked up sheepishly, but not before feeling the sharp jab of pain in his left foot. This sudden return of sensation was enough to break him from the reverie of what he saw when he looked up.

He blushed and tried to figure out if he really saw what he thought he saw. "Was she really not wearing panties," Travis thought, thinking he'd feint down again to check. He brushed off his slacks and shivered at the thought of a skirt and no panties in this temperature. He was about to attempt a feigned trip over the laundry basket next to him when his roommate appeared.

He was sweaty and clearly panicking over something. Travis put the panties issue on hold and feels himself deflate as his roomate starts frantically babbling about the bloody sink back at the apartment, a shirt, the cops at the front door.

Ashen, Travis made a last attempt to calm himself, then fell insensible to the floor. The roomate looked up at the smoking woman as she commented "that's the third time he's been down there today."

She winked and, in an attempt at subtle allure, shifted so her skirt was hiked up further on her weather-beaten thighs. Travis lay still but could not force his eyes away from the sight. His roommate coughed loudly, attempting to break him from this repeated reverie.

"Dude," he said, "the blood, the cops, the little man at the corner store... look at me when I'm talking to you." Travis still could not divert his stare; it had been a long time and he thought he spied dental floss.

"Cops..." he said, regretfully pulling his gaze away to his roommate. "Y-you said something about cops?" His roomate sighed and pointed at the owner of the bodega talking to two men in seersucker suits. "You don't think that they will find me hiding in her skirt do you?" As Ashen answered Travis thought to himself, "Ashen looks awfully pale today, he should get more sunlight." Realizing that he'd missed most of what Ashen said, Travis quickly tried to change the subject, fumbling badly. "Hey, what was that movie where all the cops turned out to be thieves in costumes? "The sting" Ashen replied with what appeared to be spit hanging off of his chin. I still question the substance clinging on for dear life to his stuble, but it apeared to be a sign. Once I'd realized this, I immediatly checked my horoscope, for this must be a sign from the stars.

Things could be up and down for you today, dear Sagittarius.
Don't be surprised if you are recruited to join a project that is
totally new to you. You may be apprehensive at first, but you
will do just fine. Go ahead and say yes.

"The stars have always shown me the way," thought Travis, smiling inwardly, I suppose it's my time to shine. Sliding each arm gingerly around his companion's shoulders he knew this was it. A new grace had dawned in Travis’s life; things will be different now, now things will be done right.

“Um… dude? Why are you touching me?” asked his roommate, but it was a rhetorical question. By now he knew the dude's idiosyncracies and was just interested in trying to get him to focus up and pay back a thirty five dollar loan before the cops bitch slapped his ass into the next century.

Travis, unphased, spoke with remarkable vigor. "Don't you ever give up? I told you it was hopeless! Besides, even if I could get out of here, they'd find me."

Ashen looked not to validate friendship, nor to help draw conclusions; Travis sensing his roomies dismay. The Banging Girl standing there, smoking, beckoned them both back to the built-in drink cooler. In the far left door, beneath the Gatorade, Powerade and energy drinks was a secret door that he had forgoten about from long ago. While opening the door, Travis found to his dismay the old man had not lied. The end was
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Old 09-07-2003, 05:34 PM   #97
nycwriters
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Join Date: Oct 2002
Location: Floundering
Posts: 4,134
Tuesday morning Travis awoke to the sound of his roommate yelling at him for the dishes in the sink. He sighed, rolled over and solemnly picked his nose for awhile. He began to ruminate about his new life, and just exactly how he had ended up this way. The freedom he used to take for granted had evaporated with the new demands of work and all those unpaid bills. What had he been envisioning when he made up his mind to run? What thoughts pushed their way 'round Travis's supernaturally round head were typically unininteresting and this morning was no exception.

He rolled over and pulled the sheets over his eyes. If only the little man in the corner store had been wrong in predicting his future. It scared him to think that he may indeed have to run again, if they found out. You see, he had always been in love with the idea of becoming a storyteller. But this dream had been cut short by his frequent yet random episodes of profound paranoia. The little man had been experimenting with several types of homemade pharmaceuticals, searching for deeper meaning and freedom within these newfound realms. His favorite experience was traveling throughout India, hiking up the highest mountains and hang-gliding off. As a result, he had frequent loss of feeling, a numbness, in his left foot.

Trying to get the blood out of his shirt in the bathroom sink, Travis further pondered the little man's story. He'd had to return to the States to bury his half-brother. He'd been sick since his last week in the high country. A bacterial infection from a local anesthetic that he was given was just recently linked to 35 deaths in Uruguay. Hopefully, his case was less severe in its final outcome. There was still plenty of work to be done, and he wasn't going to let a little case of the runs keep him from doing it. He told all of this to Travis before he finally came to the thing Travis least wanted to hear: "They know where you are."

Just as matter of fact and conversational as a New York stock broker informs his client of a gang of elephants threatening to steal his car, the little man dropped his bit of information with an all-knowing grin. Travis would have rather heard about elephants, but his left foot was going numb again as he ran the cold water, and he had to acknowledge the fact that he couldn't even run from where he was. If they decided to come and get him, then he could forget all about his laundry. He would have to find the one person he knew who could give him answers.

Yes, the woman that most called drunk from a phone booth after last call. He'd met her in a laundromat while looking for quarters behind the machines. Her voice was a testament to years of smoking and heavy drinking. It was the most uninhibited sound he'd ever heard. A strange power radiated from her--he found her without much conscious effort. The alley seemed vacant and reeked of urine but in a dim corner of Travis' mind he saw himself as George Peppard and this chain smoking venus as Audrey Hepburn.

"It should be raining and there should be a bad guy lurking round the corner with a gun," she said and lit another cigarette.

"Yeah but then you'd be too busy pretending to ignore me, and I wouldn't be able to buy you dinner and pick your brain," Travis told her. Her name was always on the tip of his tongue, even on days when he hardly knew his own. He hadn't seen her in what seemed like ages. It was doubtful she would remember the thread of their last conversation, which he had attempted to turn to something more than what always amounted in the end to a teasingly worded exchange of information. Then, he had felt certain of success, for it was never his intention to become seriously involved.

As his thoughts progressed awkwardly, he headed toward the Pic 'N' Pay on the corner, beckoning for her to follow. "Come on, you can't have any allegiance to that bastard still. He's so dark and self absorbed he's started to bend light. Let's get a Slushie and let me tell you all I've learned about your mystery man". He could see this was the wrong thing to say immediately it was out of his mouth. She visibly withdrew and stared intensely at her shoes. She started to say something and then paused, the words were just too hard to say. "Travis," she started again, "I'm not some kind of oracle, you know. Those mysteries you keep pursuing could very well be around the next corner, or found with the next person you meet."

She sighed and heedlessly tossed her cigarette butt into a nearby puddle. Further away a cat emerged from a small wooden crate as if to complete the surreal "Breakfast at Tiffany's" parody playing out in Travis's wee little mind. He stifled a giggle and snot flew out of his nose like buckshot. He pretended not to notice but felt his face go hot and his mind flicker with embarrassment. He quickly glanced at her - she was looking intensely at the enormous trail of snot falling from his nose and onto her shoes. As she shook her head, he stammered "H-Ho-How about them Jets?" as he turned and wiped his face on his sleeve. When he turned back she suddenly pulled him into a passionate embrace, sending him reeling. Travis could not believe she was turned on by a blast of snot, he thought to himself, "hey, whatever gets her going." As the seconds ticked by, Travis realized his left foot had gone numb again and he was losing his balance. "What the..." she mumbled as she watched Travis fall below her hemline.

He looked up sheepishly, but not before feeling the sharp jab of pain in his left foot. This sudden return of sensation was enough to break him from the reverie of what he saw when he looked up.

He blushed and tried to figure out if he really saw what he thought he saw. "Was she really not wearing panties," Travis thought, thinking he'd feint down again to check. He brushed off his slacks and shivered at the thought of a skirt and no panties in this temperature. He was about to attempt a feigned trip over the laundry basket next to him when his roommate appeared.

He was sweaty and clearly panicking over something. Travis put the panties issue on hold and feels himself deflate as his roomate starts frantically babbling about the bloody sink back at the apartment, a shirt, the cops at the front door.

Ashen, Travis made a last attempt to calm himself, then fell insensible to the floor. The roomate looked up at the smoking woman as she commented "that's the third time he's been down there today."

She winked and, in an attempt at subtle allure, shifted so her skirt was hiked up further on her weather-beaten thighs. Travis lay still but could not force his eyes away from the sight. His roommate coughed loudly, attempting to break him from this repeated reverie.

"Dude," he said, "the blood, the cops, the little man at the corner store... look at me when I'm talking to you." Travis still could not divert his stare; it had been a long time and he thought he spied dental floss.

"Cops..." he said, regretfully pulling his gaze away to his roommate. "Y-you said something about cops?" His roomate sighed and pointed at the owner of the bodega talking to two men in seersucker suits. "You don't think that they will find me hiding in her skirt do you?" As Ashen answered Travis thought to himself, "Ashen looks awfully pale today, he should get more sunlight." Realizing that he'd missed most of what Ashen said, Travis quickly tried to change the subject, fumbling badly. "Hey, what was that movie where all the cops turned out to be thieves in costumes? "The sting" Ashen replied with what appeared to be spit hanging off of his chin. I still question the substance clinging on for dear life to his stuble, but it apeared to be a sign. Once I'd realized this, I immediatly checked my horoscope, for this must be a sign from the stars.

Things could be up and down for you today, dear Sagittarius.
Don't be surprised if you are recruited to join a project that is
totally new to you. You may be apprehensive at first, but you
will do just fine. Go ahead and say yes.

"The stars have always shown me the way," thought Travis, smiling inwardly, I suppose it's my time to shine. Sliding each arm gingerly around his companion's shoulders he knew this was it. A new grace had dawned in Travis’s life; things will be different now, now things will be done right.

“Um… dude? Why are you touching me?” asked his roommate, but it was a rhetorical question. By now he knew the dude's idiosyncracies and was just interested in trying to get him to focus up and pay back a thirty five dollar loan before the cops bitch slapped his ass into the next century.

Travis, unphased, spoke with remarkable vigor. "Don't you ever give up? I told you it was hopeless! Besides, even if I could get out of here, they'd find me."

Ashen looked not to validate friendship, nor to help draw conclusions; Travis sensing his roomies dismay. The Banging Girl standing there, smoking, beckoned them both back to the built-in drink cooler. In the far left door, beneath the Gatorade, Powerade and energy drinks was a secret door that he had forgoten about from long ago. While opening the door, Travis found to his dismay the old man had not lied. The end was unravelling. It was almost as if
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Old 09-07-2003, 06:26 PM   #98
moel
Registered User
 
Join Date: Nov 2002
Location: dithyramb
Posts: 3,102
Tuesday morning Travis awoke to the sound of his roommate yelling at him for the dishes in the sink. He sighed, rolled over and solemnly picked his nose for awhile. He began to ruminate about his new life, and just exactly how he had ended up this way. The freedom he used to take for granted had evaporated with the new demands of work and all those unpaid bills. What had he been envisioning when he made up his mind to run? What thoughts pushed their way 'round Travis's supernaturally round head were typically unininteresting and this morning was no exception.

He rolled over and pulled the sheets over his eyes. If only the little man in the corner store had been wrong in predicting his future. It scared him to think that he may indeed have to run again, if they found out. You see, he had always been in love with the idea of becoming a storyteller. But this dream had been cut short by his frequent yet random episodes of profound paranoia. The little man had been experimenting with several types of homemade pharmaceuticals, searching for deeper meaning and freedom within these newfound realms. His favorite experience was traveling throughout India, hiking up the highest mountains and hang-gliding off. As a result, he had frequent loss of feeling, a numbness, in his left foot.

Trying to get the blood out of his shirt in the bathroom sink, Travis further pondered the little man's story. He'd had to return to the States to bury his half-brother. He'd been sick since his last week in the high country. A bacterial infection from a local anesthetic that he was given was just recently linked to 35 deaths in Uruguay. Hopefully, his case was less severe in its final outcome. There was still plenty of work to be done, and he wasn't going to let a little case of the runs keep him from doing it. He told all of this to Travis before he finally came to the thing Travis least wanted to hear: "They know where you are."

Just as matter of fact and conversational as a New York stock broker informs his client of a gang of elephants threatening to steal his car, the little man dropped his bit of information with an all-knowing grin. Travis would have rather heard about elephants, but his left foot was going numb again as he ran the cold water, and he had to acknowledge the fact that he couldn't even run from where he was. If they decided to come and get him, then he could forget all about his laundry. He would have to find the one person he knew who could give him answers.

Yes, the woman that most called drunk from a phone booth after last call. He'd met her in a laundromat while looking for quarters behind the machines. Her voice was a testament to years of smoking and heavy drinking. It was the most uninhibited sound he'd ever heard. A strange power radiated from her--he found her without much conscious effort. The alley seemed vacant and reeked of urine but in a dim corner of Travis' mind he saw himself as George Peppard and this chain smoking venus as Audrey Hepburn.

"It should be raining and there should be a bad guy lurking round the corner with a gun," she said and lit another cigarette.

"Yeah but then you'd be too busy pretending to ignore me, and I wouldn't be able to buy you dinner and pick your brain," Travis told her. Her name was always on the tip of his tongue, even on days when he hardly knew his own. He hadn't seen her in what seemed like ages. It was doubtful she would remember the thread of their last conversation, which he had attempted to turn to something more than what always amounted in the end to a teasingly worded exchange of information. Then, he had felt certain of success, for it was never his intention to become seriously involved.

As his thoughts progressed awkwardly, he headed toward the Pic 'N' Pay on the corner, beckoning for her to follow. "Come on, you can't have any allegiance to that bastard still. He's so dark and self absorbed he's started to bend light. Let's get a Slushie and let me tell you all I've learned about your mystery man". He could see this was the wrong thing to say immediately it was out of his mouth. She visibly withdrew and stared intensely at her shoes. She started to say something and then paused, the words were just too hard to say. "Travis," she started again, "I'm not some kind of oracle, you know. Those mysteries you keep pursuing could very well be around the next corner, or found with the next person you meet."

She sighed and heedlessly tossed her cigarette butt into a nearby puddle. Further away a cat emerged from a small wooden crate as if to complete the surreal "Breakfast at Tiffany's" parody playing out in Travis's wee little mind. He stifled a giggle and snot flew out of his nose like buckshot. He pretended not to notice but felt his face go hot and his mind flicker with embarrassment. He quickly glanced at her - she was looking intensely at the enormous trail of snot falling from his nose and onto her shoes. As she shook her head, he stammered "H-Ho-How about them Jets?" as he turned and wiped his face on his sleeve. When he turned back she suddenly pulled him into a passionate embrace, sending him reeling. Travis could not believe she was turned on by a blast of snot, he thought to himself, "hey, whatever gets her going." As the seconds ticked by, Travis realized his left foot had gone numb again and he was losing his balance. "What the..." she mumbled as she watched Travis fall below her hemline.

He looked up sheepishly, but not before feeling the sharp jab of pain in his left foot. This sudden return of sensation was enough to break him from the reverie of what he saw when he looked up.

He blushed and tried to figure out if he really saw what he thought he saw. "Was she really not wearing panties," Travis thought, thinking he'd feint down again to check. He brushed off his slacks and shivered at the thought of a skirt and no panties in this temperature. He was about to attempt a feigned trip over the laundry basket next to him when his roommate appeared.

He was sweaty and clearly panicking over something. Travis put the panties issue on hold and feels himself deflate as his roomate starts frantically babbling about the bloody sink back at the apartment, a shirt, the cops at the front door.

Ashen, Travis made a last attempt to calm himself, then fell insensible to the floor. The roomate looked up at the smoking woman as she commented "that's the third time he's been down there today."

She winked and, in an attempt at subtle allure, shifted so her skirt was hiked up further on her weather-beaten thighs. Travis lay still but could not force his eyes away from the sight. His roommate coughed loudly, attempting to break him from this repeated reverie.

"Dude," he said, "the blood, the cops, the little man at the corner store... look at me when I'm talking to you." Travis still could not divert his stare; it had been a long time and he thought he spied dental floss.

"Cops..." he said, regretfully pulling his gaze away to his roommate. "Y-you said something about cops?" His roomate sighed and pointed at the owner of the bodega talking to two men in seersucker suits. "You don't think that they will find me hiding in her skirt do you?" As Ashen answered Travis thought to himself, "Ashen looks awfully pale today, he should get more sunlight." Realizing that he'd missed most of what Ashen said, Travis quickly tried to change the subject, fumbling badly. "Hey, what was that movie where all the cops turned out to be thieves in costumes? "The sting" Ashen replied with what appeared to be spit hanging off of his chin. I still question the substance clinging on for dear life to his stuble, but it apeared to be a sign. Once I'd realized this, I immediatly checked my horoscope, for this must be a sign from the stars.

Things could be up and down for you today, dear Sagittarius.
Don't be surprised if you are recruited to join a project that is
totally new to you. You may be apprehensive at first, but you
will do just fine. Go ahead and say yes.

"The stars have always shown me the way," thought Travis, smiling inwardly, I suppose it's my time to shine. Sliding each arm gingerly around his companion's shoulders he knew this was it. A new grace had dawned in Travis’s life; things will be different now, now things will be done right.

“Um… dude? Why are you touching me?” asked his roommate, but it was a rhetorical question. By now he knew the dude's idiosyncracies and was just interested in trying to get him to focus up and pay back a thirty five dollar loan before the cops bitch slapped his ass into the next century.

Travis, unphased, spoke with remarkable vigor. "Don't you ever give up? I told you it was hopeless! Besides, even if I could get out of here, they'd find me."

Ashen looked not to validate friendship, nor to help draw conclusions; Travis sensing his roomies dismay. The Banging Girl standing there, smoking, beckoned them both back to the built-in drink cooler. In the far left door, beneath the Gatorade, Powerade and energy drinks was a secret door that he had forgoten about from long ago. While opening the door, Travis found to his dismay the old man had not lied. The end was unravelling. It was almost as if he'd dreamt it all. And that Tuesday morning Travis
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Old 09-07-2003, 06:46 PM   #99
nycwriters
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Tuesday morning Travis awoke to the sound of his roommate yelling at him for the dishes in the sink. He sighed, rolled over and solemnly picked his nose for awhile. He began to ruminate about his new life, and just exactly how he had ended up this way. The freedom he used to take for granted had evaporated with the new demands of work and all those unpaid bills. What had he been envisioning when he made up his mind to run? What thoughts pushed their way 'round Travis's supernaturally round head were typically unininteresting and this morning was no exception.

He rolled over and pulled the sheets over his eyes. If only the little man in the corner store had been wrong in predicting his future. It scared him to think that he may indeed have to run again, if they found out. You see, he had always been in love with the idea of becoming a storyteller. But this dream had been cut short by his frequent yet random episodes of profound paranoia. The little man had been experimenting with several types of homemade pharmaceuticals, searching for deeper meaning and freedom within these newfound realms. His favorite experience was traveling throughout India, hiking up the highest mountains and hang-gliding off. As a result, he had frequent loss of feeling, a numbness, in his left foot.

Trying to get the blood out of his shirt in the bathroom sink, Travis further pondered the little man's story. He'd had to return to the States to bury his half-brother. He'd been sick since his last week in the high country. A bacterial infection from a local anesthetic that he was given was just recently linked to 35 deaths in Uruguay. Hopefully, his case was less severe in its final outcome. There was still plenty of work to be done, and he wasn't going to let a little case of the runs keep him from doing it. He told all of this to Travis before he finally came to the thing Travis least wanted to hear: "They know where you are."

Just as matter of fact and conversational as a New York stock broker informs his client of a gang of elephants threatening to steal his car, the little man dropped his bit of information with an all-knowing grin. Travis would have rather heard about elephants, but his left foot was going numb again as he ran the cold water, and he had to acknowledge the fact that he couldn't even run from where he was. If they decided to come and get him, then he could forget all about his laundry. He would have to find the one person he knew who could give him answers.

Yes, the woman that most called drunk from a phone booth after last call. He'd met her in a laundromat while looking for quarters behind the machines. Her voice was a testament to years of smoking and heavy drinking. It was the most uninhibited sound he'd ever heard. A strange power radiated from her--he found her without much conscious effort. The alley seemed vacant and reeked of urine but in a dim corner of Travis' mind he saw himself as George Peppard and this chain smoking venus as Audrey Hepburn.

"It should be raining and there should be a bad guy lurking round the corner with a gun," she said and lit another cigarette.

"Yeah but then you'd be too busy pretending to ignore me, and I wouldn't be able to buy you dinner and pick your brain," Travis told her. Her name was always on the tip of his tongue, even on days when he hardly knew his own. He hadn't seen her in what seemed like ages. It was doubtful she would remember the thread of their last conversation, which he had attempted to turn to something more than what always amounted in the end to a teasingly worded exchange of information. Then, he had felt certain of success, for it was never his intention to become seriously involved.

As his thoughts progressed awkwardly, he headed toward the Pic 'N' Pay on the corner, beckoning for her to follow. "Come on, you can't have any allegiance to that bastard still. He's so dark and self absorbed he's started to bend light. Let's get a Slushie and let me tell you all I've learned about your mystery man". He could see this was the wrong thing to say immediately it was out of his mouth. She visibly withdrew and stared intensely at her shoes. She started to say something and then paused, the words were just too hard to say. "Travis," she started again, "I'm not some kind of oracle, you know. Those mysteries you keep pursuing could very well be around the next corner, or found with the next person you meet."

She sighed and heedlessly tossed her cigarette butt into a nearby puddle. Further away a cat emerged from a small wooden crate as if to complete the surreal "Breakfast at Tiffany's" parody playing out in Travis's wee little mind. He stifled a giggle and snot flew out of his nose like buckshot. He pretended not to notice but felt his face go hot and his mind flicker with embarrassment. He quickly glanced at her - she was looking intensely at the enormous trail of snot falling from his nose and onto her shoes. As she shook her head, he stammered "H-Ho-How about them Jets?" as he turned and wiped his face on his sleeve. When he turned back she suddenly pulled him into a passionate embrace, sending him reeling. Travis could not believe she was turned on by a blast of snot, he thought to himself, "hey, whatever gets her going." As the seconds ticked by, Travis realized his left foot had gone numb again and he was losing his balance. "What the..." she mumbled as she watched Travis fall below her hemline.

He looked up sheepishly, but not before feeling the sharp jab of pain in his left foot. This sudden return of sensation was enough to break him from the reverie of what he saw when he looked up.

He blushed and tried to figure out if he really saw what he thought he saw. "Was she really not wearing panties," Travis thought, thinking he'd feint down again to check. He brushed off his slacks and shivered at the thought of a skirt and no panties in this temperature. He was about to attempt a feigned trip over the laundry basket next to him when his roommate appeared.

He was sweaty and clearly panicking over something. Travis put the panties issue on hold and feels himself deflate as his roomate starts frantically babbling about the bloody sink back at the apartment, a shirt, the cops at the front door.

Ashen, Travis made a last attempt to calm himself, then fell insensible to the floor. The roomate looked up at the smoking woman as she commented "that's the third time he's been down there today."

She winked and, in an attempt at subtle allure, shifted so her skirt was hiked up further on her weather-beaten thighs. Travis lay still but could not force his eyes away from the sight. His roommate coughed loudly, attempting to break him from this repeated reverie.

"Dude," he said, "the blood, the cops, the little man at the corner store... look at me when I'm talking to you." Travis still could not divert his stare; it had been a long time and he thought he spied dental floss.

"Cops..." he said, regretfully pulling his gaze away to his roommate. "Y-you said something about cops?" His roomate sighed and pointed at the owner of the bodega talking to two men in seersucker suits. "You don't think that they will find me hiding in her skirt do you?" As Ashen answered Travis thought to himself, "Ashen looks awfully pale today, he should get more sunlight." Realizing that he'd missed most of what Ashen said, Travis quickly tried to change the subject, fumbling badly. "Hey, what was that movie where all the cops turned out to be thieves in costumes? "The sting" Ashen replied with what appeared to be spit hanging off of his chin. I still question the substance clinging on for dear life to his stuble, but it apeared to be a sign. Once I'd realized this, I immediatly checked my horoscope, for this must be a sign from the stars.

Things could be up and down for you today, dear Sagittarius.
Don't be surprised if you are recruited to join a project that is
totally new to you. You may be apprehensive at first, but you
will do just fine. Go ahead and say yes.

"The stars have always shown me the way," thought Travis, smiling inwardly, I suppose it's my time to shine. Sliding each arm gingerly around his companion's shoulders he knew this was it. A new grace had dawned in Travis’s life; things will be different now, now things will be done right.

“Um… dude? Why are you touching me?” asked his roommate, but it was a rhetorical question. By now he knew the dude's idiosyncracies and was just interested in trying to get him to focus up and pay back a thirty five dollar loan before the cops bitch slapped his ass into the next century.

Travis, unphased, spoke with remarkable vigor. "Don't you ever give up? I told you it was hopeless! Besides, even if I could get out of here, they'd find me."

Ashen looked not to validate friendship, nor to help draw conclusions; Travis sensing his roomies dismay. The Banging Girl standing there, smoking, beckoned them both back to the built-in drink cooler. In the far left door, beneath the Gatorade, Powerade and energy drinks was a secret door that he had forgoten about from long ago. While opening the door, Travis found to his dismay the old man had not lied. The end was unravelling. It was almost as if he'd dreamt it all. And that Tuesday morning Travis hadn't experienced his usual bouts of paranoia that so often infected his waking hours. No, that morning
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Old 09-10-2003, 10:08 PM   #100
moel
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Location: dithyramb
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Tuesday morning Travis awoke to the sound of his roommate yelling at him for the dishes in the sink. He sighed, rolled over and solemnly picked his nose for awhile. He began to ruminate about his new life, and just exactly how he had ended up this way. The freedom he used to take for granted had evaporated with the new demands of work and all those unpaid bills. What had he been envisioning when he made up his mind to run? What thoughts pushed their way 'round Travis's supernaturally round head were typically unininteresting and this morning was no exception.

He rolled over and pulled the sheets over his eyes. If only the little man in the corner store had been wrong in predicting his future. It scared him to think that he may indeed have to run again, if they found out. You see, he had always been in love with the idea of becoming a storyteller. But this dream had been cut short by his frequent yet random episodes of profound paranoia. The little man had been experimenting with several types of homemade pharmaceuticals, searching for deeper meaning and freedom within these newfound realms. His favorite experience was traveling throughout India, hiking up the highest mountains and hang-gliding off. As a result, he had frequent loss of feeling, a numbness, in his left foot.

Trying to get the blood out of his shirt in the bathroom sink, Travis further pondered the little man's story. He'd had to return to the States to bury his half-brother. He'd been sick since his last week in the high country. A bacterial infection from a local anesthetic that he was given was just recently linked to 35 deaths in Uruguay. Hopefully, his case was less severe in its final outcome. There was still plenty of work to be done, and he wasn't going to let a little case of the runs keep him from doing it. He told all of this to Travis before he finally came to the thing Travis least wanted to hear: "They know where you are."

Just as matter of fact and conversational as a New York stock broker informs his client of a gang of elephants threatening to steal his car, the little man dropped his bit of information with an all-knowing grin. Travis would have rather heard about elephants, but his left foot was going numb again as he ran the cold water, and he had to acknowledge the fact that he couldn't even run from where he was. If they decided to come and get him, then he could forget all about his laundry. He would have to find the one person he knew who could give him answers.

Yes, the woman that most called drunk from a phone booth after last call. He'd met her in a laundromat while looking for quarters behind the machines. Her voice was a testament to years of smoking and heavy drinking. It was the most uninhibited sound he'd ever heard. A strange power radiated from her--he found her without much conscious effort. The alley seemed vacant and reeked of urine but in a dim corner of Travis' mind he saw himself as George Peppard and this chain smoking venus as Audrey Hepburn.

"It should be raining and there should be a bad guy lurking round the corner with a gun," she said and lit another cigarette.

"Yeah but then you'd be too busy pretending to ignore me, and I wouldn't be able to buy you dinner and pick your brain," Travis told her. Her name was always on the tip of his tongue, even on days when he hardly knew his own. He hadn't seen her in what seemed like ages. It was doubtful she would remember the thread of their last conversation, which he had attempted to turn to something more than what always amounted in the end to a teasingly worded exchange of information. Then, he had felt certain of success, for it was never his intention to become seriously involved.

As his thoughts progressed awkwardly, he headed toward the Pic 'N' Pay on the corner, beckoning for her to follow. "Come on, you can't have any allegiance to that bastard still. He's so dark and self absorbed he's started to bend light. Let's get a Slushie and let me tell you all I've learned about your mystery man". He could see this was the wrong thing to say immediately it was out of his mouth. She visibly withdrew and stared intensely at her shoes. She started to say something and then paused, the words were just too hard to say. "Travis," she started again, "I'm not some kind of oracle, you know. Those mysteries you keep pursuing could very well be around the next corner, or found with the next person you meet."

She sighed and heedlessly tossed her cigarette butt into a nearby puddle. Further away a cat emerged from a small wooden crate as if to complete the surreal "Breakfast at Tiffany's" parody playing out in Travis's wee little mind. He stifled a giggle and snot flew out of his nose like buckshot. He pretended not to notice but felt his face go hot and his mind flicker with embarrassment. He quickly glanced at her - she was looking intensely at the enormous trail of snot falling from his nose and onto her shoes. As she shook her head, he stammered "H-Ho-How about them Jets?" as he turned and wiped his face on his sleeve. When he turned back she suddenly pulled him into a passionate embrace, sending him reeling. Travis could not believe she was turned on by a blast of snot, he thought to himself, "hey, whatever gets her going." As the seconds ticked by, Travis realized his left foot had gone numb again and he was losing his balance. "What the..." she mumbled as she watched Travis fall below her hemline.

He looked up sheepishly, but not before feeling the sharp jab of pain in his left foot. This sudden return of sensation was enough to break him from the reverie of what he saw when he looked up.

He blushed and tried to figure out if he really saw what he thought he saw. "Was she really not wearing panties," Travis thought, thinking he'd feint down again to check. He brushed off his slacks and shivered at the thought of a skirt and no panties in this temperature. He was about to attempt a feigned trip over the laundry basket next to him when his roommate appeared.

He was sweaty and clearly panicking over something. Travis put the panties issue on hold and feels himself deflate as his roomate starts frantically babbling about the bloody sink back at the apartment, a shirt, the cops at the front door.

Ashen, Travis made a last attempt to calm himself, then fell insensible to the floor. The roomate looked up at the smoking woman as she commented "that's the third time he's been down there today."

She winked and, in an attempt at subtle allure, shifted so her skirt was hiked up further on her weather-beaten thighs. Travis lay still but could not force his eyes away from the sight. His roommate coughed loudly, attempting to break him from this repeated reverie.

"Dude," he said, "the blood, the cops, the little man at the corner store... look at me when I'm talking to you." Travis still could not divert his stare; it had been a long time and he thought he spied dental floss.

"Cops..." he said, regretfully pulling his gaze away to his roommate. "Y-you said something about cops?" His roomate sighed and pointed at the owner of the bodega talking to two men in seersucker suits. "You don't think that they will find me hiding in her skirt do you?" As Ashen answered Travis thought to himself, "Ashen looks awfully pale today, he should get more sunlight." Realizing that he'd missed most of what Ashen said, Travis quickly tried to change the subject, fumbling badly. "Hey, what was that movie where all the cops turned out to be thieves in costumes? "The sting" Ashen replied with what appeared to be spit hanging off of his chin. I still question the substance clinging on for dear life to his stuble, but it apeared to be a sign. Once I'd realized this, I immediatly checked my horoscope, for this must be a sign from the stars.

Things could be up and down for you today, dear Sagittarius.
Don't be surprised if you are recruited to join a project that is
totally new to you. You may be apprehensive at first, but you
will do just fine. Go ahead and say yes.

"The stars have always shown me the way," thought Travis, smiling inwardly, I suppose it's my time to shine. Sliding each arm gingerly around his companion's shoulders he knew this was it. A new grace had dawned in Travis’s life; things will be different now, now things will be done right.

“Um… dude? Why are you touching me?” asked his roommate, but it was a rhetorical question. By now he knew the dude's idiosyncracies and was just interested in trying to get him to focus up and pay back a thirty five dollar loan before the cops bitch slapped his ass into the next century.

Travis, unphased, spoke with remarkable vigor. "Don't you ever give up? I told you it was hopeless! Besides, even if I could get out of here, they'd find me."

Ashen looked not to validate friendship, nor to help draw conclusions; Travis sensing his roomies dismay. The Banging Girl standing there, smoking, beckoned them both back to the built-in drink cooler. In the far left door, beneath the Gatorade, Powerade and energy drinks was a secret door that he had forgoten about from long ago. While opening the door, Travis found to his dismay the old man had not lied. The end was unravelling. It was almost as if he'd dreamt it all. And that Tuesday morning Travis hadn't experienced his usual bouts of paranoia that so often infected his waking hours. No, that morning he put up no fight.

"Now Travis, just this last pink
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Old 09-26-2003, 01:50 AM   #101
funkytuba
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Location: The Left Coast
Posts: 4,531
Tuesday morning Travis awoke to the sound of his roommate yelling at him for the dishes in the sink. He sighed, rolled over and solemnly picked his nose for awhile. He began to ruminate about his new life, and just exactly how he had ended up this way. The freedom he used to take for granted had evaporated with the new demands of work and all those unpaid bills. What had he been envisioning when he made up his mind to run? What thoughts pushed their way 'round Travis's supernaturally round head were typically unininteresting and this morning was no exception.

He rolled over and pulled the sheets over his eyes. If only the little man in the corner store had been wrong in predicting his future. It scared him to think that he may indeed have to run again, if they found out. You see, he had always been in love with the idea of becoming a storyteller. But this dream had been cut short by his frequent yet random episodes of profound paranoia. The little man had been experimenting with several types of homemade pharmaceuticals, searching for deeper meaning and freedom within these newfound realms. His favorite experience was traveling throughout India, hiking up the highest mountains and hang-gliding off. As a result, he had frequent loss of feeling, a numbness, in his left foot.

Trying to get the blood out of his shirt in the bathroom sink, Travis further pondered the little man's story. He'd had to return to the States to bury his half-brother. He'd been sick since his last week in the high country. A bacterial infection from a local anesthetic that he was given was just recently linked to 35 deaths in Uruguay. Hopefully, his case was less severe in its final outcome. There was still plenty of work to be done, and he wasn't going to let a little case of the runs keep him from doing it. He told all of this to Travis before he finally came to the thing Travis least wanted to hear: "They know where you are."

Just as matter of fact and conversational as a New York stock broker informs his client of a gang of elephants threatening to steal his car, the little man dropped his bit of information with an all-knowing grin. Travis would have rather heard about elephants, but his left foot was going numb again as he ran the cold water, and he had to acknowledge the fact that he couldn't even run from where he was. If they decided to come and get him, then he could forget all about his laundry. He would have to find the one person he knew who could give him answers.

Yes, the woman that most called drunk from a phone booth after last call. He'd met her in a laundromat while looking for quarters behind the machines. Her voice was a testament to years of smoking and heavy drinking. It was the most uninhibited sound he'd ever heard. A strange power radiated from her--he found her without much conscious effort. The alley seemed vacant and reeked of urine but in a dim corner of Travis' mind he saw himself as George Peppard and this chain smoking venus as Audrey Hepburn.

"It should be raining and there should be a bad guy lurking round the corner with a gun," she said and lit another cigarette.

"Yeah but then you'd be too busy pretending to ignore me, and I wouldn't be able to buy you dinner and pick your brain," Travis told her. Her name was always on the tip of his tongue, even on days when he hardly knew his own. He hadn't seen her in what seemed like ages. It was doubtful she would remember the thread of their last conversation, which he had attempted to turn to something more than what always amounted in the end to a teasingly worded exchange of information. Then, he had felt certain of success, for it was never his intention to become seriously involved.

As his thoughts progressed awkwardly, he headed toward the Pic 'N' Pay on the corner, beckoning for her to follow. "Come on, you can't have any allegiance to that bastard still. He's so dark and self absorbed he's started to bend light. Let's get a Slushie and let me tell you all I've learned about your mystery man". He could see this was the wrong thing to say immediately it was out of his mouth. She visibly withdrew and stared intensely at her shoes. She started to say something and then paused, the words were just too hard to say. "Travis," she started again, "I'm not some kind of oracle, you know. Those mysteries you keep pursuing could very well be around the next corner, or found with the next person you meet."

She sighed and heedlessly tossed her cigarette butt into a nearby puddle. Further away a cat emerged from a small wooden crate as if to complete the surreal "Breakfast at Tiffany's" parody playing out in Travis's wee little mind. He stifled a giggle and snot flew out of his nose like buckshot. He pretended not to notice but felt his face go hot and his mind flicker with embarrassment. He quickly glanced at her - she was looking intensely at the enormous trail of snot falling from his nose and onto her shoes. As she shook her head, he stammered "H-Ho-How about them Jets?" as he turned and wiped his face on his sleeve. When he turned back she suddenly pulled him into a passionate embrace, sending him reeling. Travis could not believe she was turned on by a blast of snot, he thought to himself, "hey, whatever gets her going." As the seconds ticked by, Travis realized his left foot had gone numb again and he was losing his balance. "What the..." she mumbled as she watched Travis fall below her hemline.

He looked up sheepishly, but not before feeling the sharp jab of pain in his left foot. This sudden return of sensation was enough to break him from the reverie of what he saw when he looked up.

He blushed and tried to figure out if he really saw what he thought he saw. "Was she really not wearing panties," Travis thought, thinking he'd feint down again to check. He brushed off his slacks and shivered at the thought of a skirt and no panties in this temperature. He was about to attempt a feigned trip over the laundry basket next to him when his roommate appeared.

He was sweaty and clearly panicking over something. Travis put the panties issue on hold and feels himself deflate as his roomate starts frantically babbling about the bloody sink back at the apartment, a shirt, the cops at the front door.

Ashen, Travis made a last attempt to calm himself, then fell insensible to the floor. The roomate looked up at the smoking woman as she commented "that's the third time he's been down there today."

She winked and, in an attempt at subtle allure, shifted so her skirt was hiked up further on her weather-beaten thighs. Travis lay still but could not force his eyes away from the sight. His roommate coughed loudly, attempting to break him from this repeated reverie.

"Dude," he said, "the blood, the cops, the little man at the corner store... look at me when I'm talking to you." Travis still could not divert his stare; it had been a long time and he thought he spied dental floss.

"Cops..." he said, regretfully pulling his gaze away to his roommate. "Y-you said something about cops?" His roomate sighed and pointed at the owner of the bodega talking to two men in seersucker suits. "You don't think that they will find me hiding in her skirt do you?" As Ashen answered Travis thought to himself, "Ashen looks awfully pale today, he should get more sunlight." Realizing that he'd missed most of what Ashen said, Travis quickly tried to change the subject, fumbling badly. "Hey, what was that movie where all the cops turned out to be thieves in costumes? "The sting" Ashen replied with what appeared to be spit hanging off of his chin. I still question the substance clinging on for dear life to his stuble, but it apeared to be a sign. Once I'd realized this, I immediatly checked my horoscope, for this must be a sign from the stars.

Things could be up and down for you today, dear Sagittarius.
Don't be surprised if you are recruited to join a project that is
totally new to you. You may be apprehensive at first, but you
will do just fine. Go ahead and say yes.

"The stars have always shown me the way," thought Travis, smiling inwardly, I suppose it's my time to shine. Sliding each arm gingerly around his companion's shoulders he knew this was it. A new grace had dawned in Travis’s life; things will be different now, now things will be done right.

“Um… dude? Why are you touching me?” asked his roommate, but it was a rhetorical question. By now he knew the dude's idiosyncracies and was just interested in trying to get him to focus up and pay back a thirty five dollar loan before the cops bitch slapped his ass into the next century.

Travis, unphased, spoke with remarkable vigor. "Don't you ever give up? I told you it was hopeless! Besides, even if I could get out of here, they'd find me."

Ashen looked not to validate friendship, nor to help draw conclusions; Travis sensing his roomies dismay. The Banging Girl standing there, smoking, beckoned them both back to the built-in drink cooler. In the far left door, beneath the Gatorade, Powerade and energy drinks was a secret door that he had forgoten about from long ago. While opening the door, Travis found to his dismay the old man had not lied. The end was unravelling. It was almost as if he'd dreamt it all. And that Tuesday morning Travis hadn't experienced his usual bouts of paranoia that so often infected his waking hours. No, that morning he put up no fight.

"Now Travis, just this last pink feather boa should be enough of a disguise to get past them. I'm going to
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Old 10-03-2003, 03:29 PM   #102
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morning Travis awoke to the sound of his roommate yelling at him for the dishes in the sink. He sighed, rolled over and solemnly picked his nose for awhile. He began to ruminate about his new life, and just exactly how he had ended up this way. The freedom he used to take for granted had evaporated with the new demands of work and all those unpaid bills. What had he been envisioning when he made up his mind to run? What thoughts pushed their way 'round Travis's supernaturally round head were typically unininteresting and this morning was no exception.

He rolled over and pulled the sheets over his eyes. If only the little man in the corner store had been wrong in predicting his future. It scared him to think that he may indeed have to run again, if they found out. You see, he had always been in love with the idea of becoming a storyteller. But this dream had been cut short by his frequent yet random episodes of profound paranoia. The little man had been experimenting with several types of homemade pharmaceuticals, searching for deeper meaning and freedom within these newfound realms. His favorite experience was traveling throughout India, hiking up the highest mountains and hang-gliding off. As a result, he had frequent loss of feeling, a numbness, in his left foot.

Trying to get the blood out of his shirt in the bathroom sink, Travis further pondered the little man's story. He'd had to return to the States to bury his half-brother. He'd been sick since his last week in the high country. A bacterial infection from a local anesthetic that he was given was just recently linked to 35 deaths in Uruguay. Hopefully, his case was less severe in its final outcome. There was still plenty of work to be done, and he wasn't going to let a little case of the runs keep him from doing it. He told all of this to Travis before he finally came to the thing Travis least wanted to hear: "They know where you are."

Just as matter of fact and conversational as a New York stock broker informs his client of a gang of elephants threatening to steal his car, the little man dropped his bit of information with an all-knowing grin. Travis would have rather heard about elephants, but his left foot was going numb again as he ran the cold water, and he had to acknowledge the fact that he couldn't even run from where he was. If they decided to come and get him, then he could forget all about his laundry. He would have to find the one person he knew who could give him answers.

Yes, the woman that most called drunk from a phone booth after last call. He'd met her in a laundromat while looking for quarters behind the machines. Her voice was a testament to years of smoking and heavy drinking. It was the most uninhibited sound he'd ever heard. A strange power radiated from her--he found her without much conscious effort. The alley seemed vacant and reeked of urine but in a dim corner of Travis' mind he saw himself as George Peppard and this chain smoking venus as Audrey Hepburn.

"It should be raining and there should be a bad guy lurking round the corner with a gun," she said and lit another cigarette.

"Yeah but then you'd be too busy pretending to ignore me, and I wouldn't be able to buy you dinner and pick your brain," Travis told her. Her name was always on the tip of his tongue, even on days when he hardly knew his own. He hadn't seen her in what seemed like ages. It was doubtful she would remember the thread of their last conversation, which he had attempted to turn to something more than what always amounted in the end to a teasingly worded exchange of information. Then, he had felt certain of success, for it was never his intention to become seriously involved.

As his thoughts progressed awkwardly, he headed toward the Pic 'N' Pay on the corner, beckoning for her to follow. "Come on, you can't have any allegiance to that bastard still. He's so dark and self absorbed he's started to bend light. Let's get a Slushie and let me tell you all I've learned about your mystery man". He could see this was the wrong thing to say immediately it was out of his mouth. She visibly withdrew and stared intensely at her shoes. She started to say something and then paused, the words were just too hard to say. "Travis," she started again, "I'm not some kind of oracle, you know. Those mysteries you keep pursuing could very well be around the next corner, or found with the next person you meet."

She sighed and heedlessly tossed her cigarette butt into a nearby puddle. Further away a cat emerged from a small wooden crate as if to complete the surreal "Breakfast at Tiffany's" parody playing out in Travis's wee little mind. He stifled a giggle and snot flew out of his nose like buckshot. He pretended not to notice but felt his face go hot and his mind flicker with embarrassment. He quickly glanced at her - she was looking intensely at the enormous trail of snot falling from his nose and onto her shoes. As she shook her head, he stammered "H-Ho-How about them Jets?" as he turned and wiped his face on his sleeve. When he turned back she suddenly pulled him into a passionate embrace, sending him reeling. Travis could not believe she was turned on by a blast of snot, he thought to himself, "hey, whatever gets her going." As the seconds ticked by, Travis realized his left foot had gone numb again and he was losing his balance. "What the..." she mumbled as she watched Travis fall below her hemline.

He looked up sheepishly, but not before feeling the sharp jab of pain in his left foot. This sudden return of sensation was enough to break him from the reverie of what he saw when he looked up.

He blushed and tried to figure out if he really saw what he thought he saw. "Was she really not wearing panties," Travis thought, thinking he'd feint down again to check. He brushed off his slacks and shivered at the thought of a skirt and no panties in this temperature. He was about to attempt a feigned trip over the laundry basket next to him when his roommate appeared.

He was sweaty and clearly panicking over something. Travis put the panties issue on hold and feels himself deflate as his roomate starts frantically babbling about the bloody sink back at the apartment, a shirt, the cops at the front door.

Ashen, Travis made a last attempt to calm himself, then fell insensible to the floor. The roomate looked up at the smoking woman as she commented "that's the third time he's been down there today."

She winked and, in an attempt at subtle allure, shifted so her skirt was hiked up further on her weather-beaten thighs. Travis lay still but could not force his eyes away from the sight. His roommate coughed loudly, attempting to break him from this repeated reverie.

"Dude," he said, "the blood, the cops, the little man at the corner store... look at me when I'm talking to you." Travis still could not divert his stare; it had been a long time and he thought he spied dental floss.

"Cops..." he said, regretfully pulling his gaze away to his roommate. "Y-you said something about cops?" His roomate sighed and pointed at the owner of the bodega talking to two men in seersucker suits. "You don't think that they will find me hiding in her skirt do you?" As Ashen answered Travis thought to himself, "Ashen looks awfully pale today, he should get more sunlight." Realizing that he'd missed most of what Ashen said, Travis quickly tried to change the subject, fumbling badly. "Hey, what was that movie where all the cops turned out to be thieves in costumes? "The sting" Ashen replied with what appeared to be spit hanging off of his chin. I still question the substance clinging on for dear life to his stuble, but it apeared to be a sign. Once I'd realized this, I immediatly checked my horoscope, for this must be a sign from the stars.

Things could be up and down for you today, dear Sagittarius.
Don't be surprised if you are recruited to join a project that is
totally new to you. You may be apprehensive at first, but you
will do just fine. Go ahead and say yes.

"The stars have always shown me the way," thought Travis, smiling inwardly, I suppose it's my time to shine. Sliding each arm gingerly around his companion's shoulders he knew this was it. A new grace had dawned in Travis’s life; things will be different now, now things will be done right.

“Um… dude? Why are you touching me?” asked his roommate, but it was a rhetorical question. By now he knew the dude's idiosyncracies and was just interested in trying to get him to focus up and pay back a thirty five dollar loan before the cops bitch slapped his ass into the next century.

Travis, unphased, spoke with remarkable vigor. "Don't you ever give up? I told you it was hopeless! Besides, even if I could get out of here, they'd find me."

Ashen looked not to validate friendship, nor to help draw conclusions; Travis sensing his roomies dismay. The Banging Girl standing there, smoking, beckoned them both back to the built-in drink cooler. In the far left door, beneath the Gatorade, Powerade and energy drinks was a secret door that he had forgoten about from long ago. While opening the door, Travis found to his dismay the old man had not lied. The end was unravelling. It was almost as if he'd dreamt it all. And that Tuesday morning Travis hadn't experienced his usual bouts of paranoia that so often infected his waking hours. No, that morning he put up no fight.

"Now Travis, just this last pink feather boa should be enough of a disguise to get past them. I'm going to call and verify that we are in. Are ALL of us in??" This woman was overwhelming pushy.

Travis, following her every word
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Old 10-07-2003, 02:27 AM   #103
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Tuesday morning Travis awoke to the sound of his roommate yelling at him for the dishes in the sink. He sighed, rolled over and solemnly picked his nose for awhile. He began to ruminate about his new life, and just exactly how he had ended up this way. The freedom he used to take for granted had evaporated with the new demands of work and all those unpaid bills. What had he been envisioning when he made up his mind to run? What thoughts pushed their way 'round Travis's supernaturally round head were typically unininteresting and this morning was no exception.

He rolled over and pulled the sheets over his eyes. If only the little man in the corner store had been wrong in predicting his future. It scared him to think that he may indeed have to run again, if they found out. You see, he had always been in love with the idea of becoming a storyteller. But this dream had been cut short by his frequent yet random episodes of profound paranoia. The little man had been experimenting with several types of homemade pharmaceuticals, searching for deeper meaning and freedom within these newfound realms. His favorite experience was traveling throughout India, hiking up the highest mountains and hang-gliding off. As a result, he had frequent loss of feeling, a numbness, in his left foot.

Trying to get the blood out of his shirt in the bathroom sink, Travis further pondered the little man's story. He'd had to return to the States to bury his half-brother. He'd been sick since his last week in the high country. A bacterial infection from a local anesthetic that he was given was just recently linked to 35 deaths in Uruguay. Hopefully, his case was less severe in its final outcome. There was still plenty of work to be done, and he wasn't going to let a little case of the runs keep him from doing it. He told all of this to Travis before he finally came to the thing Travis least wanted to hear: "They know where you are."

Just as matter of fact and conversational as a New York stock broker informs his client of a gang of elephants threatening to steal his car, the little man dropped his bit of information with an all-knowing grin. Travis would have rather heard about elephants, but his left foot was going numb again as he ran the cold water, and he had to acknowledge the fact that he couldn't even run from where he was. If they decided to come and get him, then he could forget all about his laundry. He would have to find the one person he knew who could give him answers.

Yes, the woman that most called drunk from a phone booth after last call. He'd met her in a laundromat while looking for quarters behind the machines. Her voice was a testament to years of smoking and heavy drinking. It was the most uninhibited sound he'd ever heard. A strange power radiated from her--he found her without much conscious effort. The alley seemed vacant and reeked of urine but in a dim corner of Travis' mind he saw himself as George Peppard and this chain smoking venus as Audrey Hepburn.

"It should be raining and there should be a bad guy lurking round the corner with a gun," she said and lit another cigarette.

"Yeah but then you'd be too busy pretending to ignore me, and I wouldn't be able to buy you dinner and pick your brain," Travis told her. Her name was always on the tip of his tongue, even on days when he hardly knew his own. He hadn't seen her in what seemed like ages. It was doubtful she would remember the thread of their last conversation, which he had attempted to turn to something more than what always amounted in the end to a teasingly worded exchange of information. Then, he had felt certain of success, for it was never his intention to become seriously involved.

As his thoughts progressed awkwardly, he headed toward the Pic 'N' Pay on the corner, beckoning for her to follow. "Come on, you can't have any allegiance to that bastard still. He's so dark and self absorbed he's started to bend light. Let's get a Slushie and let me tell you all I've learned about your mystery man". He could see this was the wrong thing to say immediately it was out of his mouth. She visibly withdrew and stared intensely at her shoes. She started to say something and then paused, the words were just too hard to say. "Travis," she started again, "I'm not some kind of oracle, you know. Those mysteries you keep pursuing could very well be around the next corner, or found with the next person you meet."

She sighed and heedlessly tossed her cigarette butt into a nearby puddle. Further away a cat emerged from a small wooden crate as if to complete the surreal "Breakfast at Tiffany's" parody playing out in Travis's wee little mind. He stifled a giggle and snot flew out of his nose like buckshot. He pretended not to notice but felt his face go hot and his mind flicker with embarrassment. He quickly glanced at her - she was looking intensely at the enormous trail of snot falling from his nose and onto her shoes. As she shook her head, he stammered "H-Ho-How about them Jets?" as he turned and wiped his face on his sleeve. When he turned back she suddenly pulled him into a passionate embrace, sending him reeling. Travis could not believe she was turned on by a blast of snot, he thought to himself, "hey, whatever gets her going." As the seconds ticked by, Travis realized his left foot had gone numb again and he was losing his balance. "What the..." she mumbled as she watched Travis fall below her hemline.

He looked up sheepishly, but not before feeling the sharp jab of pain in his left foot. This sudden return of sensation was enough to break him from the reverie of what he saw when he looked up.

He blushed and tried to figure out if he really saw what he thought he saw. "Was she really not wearing panties," Travis thought, thinking he'd feint down again to check. He brushed off his slacks and shivered at the thought of a skirt and no panties in this temperature. He was about to attempt a feigned trip over the laundry basket next to him when his roommate appeared.

He was sweaty and clearly panicking over something. Travis put the panties issue on hold and feels himself deflate as his roomate starts frantically babbling about the bloody sink back at the apartment, a shirt, the cops at the front door.

Ashen, Travis made a last attempt to calm himself, then fell insensible to the floor. The roomate looked up at the smoking woman as she commented "that's the third time he's been down there today."

She winked and, in an attempt at subtle allure, shifted so her skirt was hiked up further on her weather-beaten thighs. Travis lay still but could not force his eyes away from the sight. His roommate coughed loudly, attempting to break him from this repeated reverie.

"Dude," he said, "the blood, the cops, the little man at the corner store... look at me when I'm talking to you." Travis still could not divert his stare; it had been a long time and he thought he spied dental floss.

"Cops..." he said, regretfully pulling his gaze away to his roommate. "Y-you said something about cops?" His roomate sighed and pointed at the owner of the bodega talking to two men in seersucker suits. "You don't think that they will find me hiding in her skirt do you?" As Ashen answered Travis thought to himself, "Ashen looks awfully pale today, he should get more sunlight." Realizing that he'd missed most of what Ashen said, Travis quickly tried to change the subject, fumbling badly. "Hey, what was that movie where all the cops turned out to be thieves in costumes? "The sting" Ashen replied with what appeared to be spit hanging off of his chin. I still question the substance clinging on for dear life to his stuble, but it apeared to be a sign. Once I'd realized this, I immediatly checked my horoscope, for this must be a sign from the stars.

Things could be up and down for you today, dear Sagittarius.
Don't be surprised if you are recruited to join a project that is
totally new to you. You may be apprehensive at first, but you
will do just fine. Go ahead and say yes.

"The stars have always shown me the way," thought Travis, smiling inwardly, I suppose it's my time to shine. Sliding each arm gingerly around his companion's shoulders he knew this was it. A new grace had dawned in Travis’s life; things will be different now, now things will be done right.

“Um… dude? Why are you touching me?” asked his roommate, but it was a rhetorical question. By now he knew the dude's idiosyncracies and was just interested in trying to get him to focus up and pay back a thirty five dollar loan before the cops bitch slapped his ass into the next century.

Travis, unphased, spoke with remarkable vigor. "Don't you ever give up? I told you it was hopeless! Besides, even if I could get out of here, they'd find me."

Ashen looked not to validate friendship, nor to help draw conclusions; Travis sensing his roomies dismay. The Banging Girl standing there, smoking, beckoned them both back to the built-in drink cooler. In the far left door, beneath the Gatorade, Powerade and energy drinks was a secret door that he had forgoten about from long ago. While opening the door, Travis found to his dismay the old man had not lied. The end was unravelling. It was almost as if he'd dreamt it all. And that Tuesday morning Travis hadn't experienced his usual bouts of paranoia that so often infected his waking hours. No, that morning he put up no fight.

"Now Travis, just this last pink feather boa should be enough of a disguise to get past them. I'm going to call and verify that we are in. Are ALL of us in??" This woman was overwhelming pushy.

Travis, following her every word nodded mutely. Damned if he was
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Old 10-08-2003, 09:17 PM   #104
jacks0n
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Tuesday morning Travis awoke to the sound of his roommate yelling at him for the dishes in the sink. He sighed, rolled over and solemnly picked his nose for awhile. He began to ruminate about his new life, and just exactly how he had ended up this way. The freedom he used to take for granted had evaporated with the new demands of work and all those unpaid bills. What had he been envisioning when he made up his mind to run? What thoughts pushed their way 'round Travis's supernaturally round head were typically unininteresting and this morning was no exception.

He rolled over and pulled the sheets over his eyes. If only the little man in the corner store had been wrong in predicting his future. It scared him to think that he may indeed have to run again, if they found out. You see, he had always been in love with the idea of becoming a storyteller. But this dream had been cut short by his frequent yet random episodes of profound paranoia. The little man had been experimenting with several types of homemade pharmaceuticals, searching for deeper meaning and freedom within these newfound realms. His favorite experience was traveling throughout India, hiking up the highest mountains and hang-gliding off. As a result, he had frequent loss of feeling, a numbness, in his left foot.

Trying to get the blood out of his shirt in the bathroom sink, Travis further pondered the little man's story. He'd had to return to the States to bury his half-brother. He'd been sick since his last week in the high country. A bacterial infection from a local anesthetic that he was given was just recently linked to 35 deaths in Uruguay. Hopefully, his case was less severe in its final outcome. There was still plenty of work to be done, and he wasn't going to let a little case of the runs keep him from doing it. He told all of this to Travis before he finally came to the thing Travis least wanted to hear: "They know where you are."

Just as matter of fact and conversational as a New York stock broker informs his client of a gang of elephants threatening to steal his car, the little man dropped his bit of information with an all-knowing grin. Travis would have rather heard about elephants, but his left foot was going numb again as he ran the cold water, and he had to acknowledge the fact that he couldn't even run from where he was. If they decided to come and get him, then he could forget all about his laundry. He would have to find the one person he knew who could give him answers.

Yes, the woman that most called drunk from a phone booth after last call. He'd met her in a laundromat while looking for quarters behind the machines. Her voice was a testament to years of smoking and heavy drinking. It was the most uninhibited sound he'd ever heard. A strange power radiated from her--he found her without much conscious effort. The alley seemed vacant and reeked of urine but in a dim corner of Travis' mind he saw himself as George Peppard and this chain smoking venus as Audrey Hepburn.

"It should be raining and there should be a bad guy lurking round the corner with a gun," she said and lit another cigarette.

"Yeah but then you'd be too busy pretending to ignore me, and I wouldn't be able to buy you dinner and pick your brain," Travis told her. Her name was always on the tip of his tongue, even on days when he hardly knew his own. He hadn't seen her in what seemed like ages. It was doubtful she would remember the thread of their last conversation, which he had attempted to turn to something more than what always amounted in the end to a teasingly worded exchange of information. Then, he had felt certain of success, for it was never his intention to become seriously involved.

As his thoughts progressed awkwardly, he headed toward the Pic 'N' Pay on the corner, beckoning for her to follow. "Come on, you can't have any allegiance to that bastard still. He's so dark and self absorbed he's started to bend light. Let's get a Slushie and let me tell you all I've learned about your mystery man". He could see this was the wrong thing to say immediately it was out of his mouth. She visibly withdrew and stared intensely at her shoes. She started to say something and then paused, the words were just too hard to say. "Travis," she started again, "I'm not some kind of oracle, you know. Those mysteries you keep pursuing could very well be around the next corner, or found with the next person you meet."

She sighed and heedlessly tossed her cigarette butt into a nearby puddle. Further away a cat emerged from a small wooden crate as if to complete the surreal "Breakfast at Tiffany's" parody playing out in Travis's wee little mind. He stifled a giggle and snot flew out of his nose like buckshot. He pretended not to notice but felt his face go hot and his mind flicker with embarrassment. He quickly glanced at her - she was looking intensely at the enormous trail of snot falling from his nose and onto her shoes. As she shook her head, he stammered "H-Ho-How about them Jets?" as he turned and wiped his face on his sleeve. When he turned back she suddenly pulled him into a passionate embrace, sending him reeling. Travis could not believe she was turned on by a blast of snot, he thought to himself, "hey, whatever gets her going." As the seconds ticked by, Travis realized his left foot had gone numb again and he was losing his balance. "What the..." she mumbled as she watched Travis fall below her hemline.

He looked up sheepishly, but not before feeling the sharp jab of pain in his left foot. This sudden return of sensation was enough to break him from the reverie of what he saw when he looked up.

He blushed and tried to figure out if he really saw what he thought he saw. "Was she really not wearing panties," Travis thought, thinking he'd feint down again to check. He brushed off his slacks and shivered at the thought of a skirt and no panties in this temperature. He was about to attempt a feigned trip over the laundry basket next to him when his roommate appeared.

He was sweaty and clearly panicking over something. Travis put the panties issue on hold and feels himself deflate as his roomate starts frantically babbling about the bloody sink back at the apartment, a shirt, the cops at the front door.

Ashen, Travis made a last attempt to calm himself, then fell insensible to the floor. The roomate looked up at the smoking woman as she commented "that's the third time he's been down there today."

She winked and, in an attempt at subtle allure, shifted so her skirt was hiked up further on her weather-beaten thighs. Travis lay still but could not force his eyes away from the sight. His roommate coughed loudly, attempting to break him from this repeated reverie.

"Dude," he said, "the blood, the cops, the little man at the corner store... look at me when I'm talking to you." Travis still could not divert his stare; it had been a long time and he thought he spied dental floss.

"Cops..." he said, regretfully pulling his gaze away to his roommate. "Y-you said something about cops?" His roomate sighed and pointed at the owner of the bodega talking to two men in seersucker suits. "You don't think that they will find me hiding in her skirt do you?" As Ashen answered Travis thought to himself, "Ashen looks awfully pale today, he should get more sunlight." Realizing that he'd missed most of what Ashen said, Travis quickly tried to change the subject, fumbling badly. "Hey, what was that movie where all the cops turned out to be thieves in costumes? "The sting" Ashen replied with what appeared to be spit hanging off of his chin. I still question the substance clinging on for dear life to his stuble, but it apeared to be a sign. Once I'd realized this, I immediatly checked my horoscope, for this must be a sign from the stars.

Things could be up and down for you today, dear Sagittarius.
Don't be surprised if you are recruited to join a project that is
totally new to you. You may be apprehensive at first, but you
will do just fine. Go ahead and say yes.

"The stars have always shown me the way," thought Travis, smiling inwardly, I suppose it's my time to shine. Sliding each arm gingerly around his companion's shoulders he knew this was it. A new grace had dawned in Travis’s life; things will be different now, now things will be done right.

“Um… dude? Why are you touching me?” asked his roommate, but it was a rhetorical question. By now he knew the dude's idiosyncracies and was just interested in trying to get him to focus up and pay back a thirty five dollar loan before the cops bitch slapped his ass into the next century.

Travis, unphased, spoke with remarkable vigor. "Don't you ever give up? I told you it was hopeless! Besides, even if I could get out of here, they'd find me."

Ashen looked not to validate friendship, nor to help draw conclusions; Travis sensing his roomies dismay. The Banging Girl standing there, smoking, beckoned them both back to the built-in drink cooler. In the far left door, beneath the Gatorade, Powerade and energy drinks was a secret door that he had forgoten about from long ago. While opening the door, Travis found to his dismay the old man had not lied. The end was unravelling. It was almost as if he'd dreamt it all. And that Tuesday morning Travis hadn't experienced his usual bouts of paranoia that so often infected his waking hours. No, that morning he put up no fight.

"Now Travis, just this last pink feather boa should be enough of a disguise to get past them. I'm going to call and verify that we are in. Are ALL of us in??" This woman was overwhelming pushy.

Travis, following her every word nodded mutely. Damned if he was going to indulge in several large vats of over-greased popcorn with the communal living group. Instead he decided to eat
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Old 10-14-2003, 02:54 AM   #105
funkytuba
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Location: The Left Coast
Posts: 4,531
Tuesday morning Travis awoke to the sound of his roommate yelling at him for the dishes in the sink. He sighed, rolled over and solemnly picked his nose for awhile. He began to ruminate about his new life, and just exactly how he had ended up this way. The freedom he used to take for granted had evaporated with the new demands of work and all those unpaid bills. What had he been envisioning when he made up his mind to run? What thoughts pushed their way 'round Travis's supernaturally round head were typically unininteresting and this morning was no exception.

He rolled over and pulled the sheets over his eyes. If only the little man in the corner store had been wrong in predicting his future. It scared him to think that he may indeed have to run again, if they found out. You see, he had always been in love with the idea of becoming a storyteller. But this dream had been cut short by his frequent yet random episodes of profound paranoia. The little man had been experimenting with several types of homemade pharmaceuticals, searching for deeper meaning and freedom within these newfound realms. His favorite experience was traveling throughout India, hiking up the highest mountains and hang-gliding off. As a result, he had frequent loss of feeling, a numbness, in his left foot.

Trying to get the blood out of his shirt in the bathroom sink, Travis further pondered the little man's story. He'd had to return to the States to bury his half-brother. He'd been sick since his last week in the high country. A bacterial infection from a local anesthetic that he was given was just recently linked to 35 deaths in Uruguay. Hopefully, his case was less severe in its final outcome. There was still plenty of work to be done, and he wasn't going to let a little case of the runs keep him from doing it. He told all of this to Travis before he finally came to the thing Travis least wanted to hear: "They know where you are."

Just as matter of fact and conversational as a New York stock broker informs his client of a gang of elephants threatening to steal his car, the little man dropped his bit of information with an all-knowing grin. Travis would have rather heard about elephants, but his left foot was going numb again as he ran the cold water, and he had to acknowledge the fact that he couldn't even run from where he was. If they decided to come and get him, then he could forget all about his laundry. He would have to find the one person he knew who could give him answers.

Yes, the woman that most called drunk from a phone booth after last call. He'd met her in a laundromat while looking for quarters behind the machines. Her voice was a testament to years of smoking and heavy drinking. It was the most uninhibited sound he'd ever heard. A strange power radiated from her--he found her without much conscious effort. The alley seemed vacant and reeked of urine but in a dim corner of Travis' mind he saw himself as George Peppard and this chain smoking venus as Audrey Hepburn.

"It should be raining and there should be a bad guy lurking round the corner with a gun," she said and lit another cigarette.

"Yeah but then you'd be too busy pretending to ignore me, and I wouldn't be able to buy you dinner and pick your brain," Travis told her. Her name was always on the tip of his tongue, even on days when he hardly knew his own. He hadn't seen her in what seemed like ages. It was doubtful she would remember the thread of their last conversation, which he had attempted to turn to something more than what always amounted in the end to a teasingly worded exchange of information. Then, he had felt certain of success, for it was never his intention to become seriously involved.

As his thoughts progressed awkwardly, he headed toward the Pic 'N' Pay on the corner, beckoning for her to follow. "Come on, you can't have any allegiance to that bastard still. He's so dark and self absorbed he's started to bend light. Let's get a Slushie and let me tell you all I've learned about your mystery man". He could see this was the wrong thing to say immediately it was out of his mouth. She visibly withdrew and stared intensely at her shoes. She started to say something and then paused, the words were just too hard to say. "Travis," she started again, "I'm not some kind of oracle, you know. Those mysteries you keep pursuing could very well be around the next corner, or found with the next person you meet."

She sighed and heedlessly tossed her cigarette butt into a nearby puddle. Further away a cat emerged from a small wooden crate as if to complete the surreal "Breakfast at Tiffany's" parody playing out in Travis's wee little mind. He stifled a giggle and snot flew out of his nose like buckshot. He pretended not to notice but felt his face go hot and his mind flicker with embarrassment. He quickly glanced at her - she was looking intensely at the enormous trail of snot falling from his nose and onto her shoes. As she shook her head, he stammered "H-Ho-How about them Jets?" as he turned and wiped his face on his sleeve. When he turned back she suddenly pulled him into a passionate embrace, sending him reeling. Travis could not believe she was turned on by a blast of snot, he thought to himself, "hey, whatever gets her going." As the seconds ticked by, Travis realized his left foot had gone numb again and he was losing his balance. "What the..." she mumbled as she watched Travis fall below her hemline.

He looked up sheepishly, but not before feeling the sharp jab of pain in his left foot. This sudden return of sensation was enough to break him from the reverie of what he saw when he looked up.

He blushed and tried to figure out if he really saw what he thought he saw. "Was she really not wearing panties," Travis thought, thinking he'd feint down again to check. He brushed off his slacks and shivered at the thought of a skirt and no panties in this temperature. He was about to attempt a feigned trip over the laundry basket next to him when his roommate appeared.

He was sweaty and clearly panicking over something. Travis put the panties issue on hold and feels himself deflate as his roomate starts frantically babbling about the bloody sink back at the apartment, a shirt, the cops at the front door.

Ashen, Travis made a last attempt to calm himself, then fell insensible to the floor. The roomate looked up at the smoking woman as she commented "that's the third time he's been down there today."

She winked and, in an attempt at subtle allure, shifted so her skirt was hiked up further on her weather-beaten thighs. Travis lay still but could not force his eyes away from the sight. His roommate coughed loudly, attempting to break him from this repeated reverie.

"Dude," he said, "the blood, the cops, the little man at the corner store... look at me when I'm talking to you." Travis still could not divert his stare; it had been a long time and he thought he spied dental floss.

"Cops..." he said, regretfully pulling his gaze away to his roommate. "Y-you said something about cops?" His roomate sighed and pointed at the owner of the bodega talking to two men in seersucker suits. "You don't think that they will find me hiding in her skirt do you?" As Ashen answered Travis thought to himself, "Ashen looks awfully pale today, he should get more sunlight." Realizing that he'd missed most of what Ashen said, Travis quickly tried to change the subject, fumbling badly. "Hey, what was that movie where all the cops turned out to be thieves in costumes? "The sting" Ashen replied with what appeared to be spit hanging off of his chin. I still question the substance clinging on for dear life to his stuble, but it apeared to be a sign. Once I'd realized this, I immediatly checked my horoscope, for this must be a sign from the stars.

Things could be up and down for you today, dear Sagittarius.
Don't be surprised if you are recruited to join a project that is
totally new to you. You may be apprehensive at first, but you
will do just fine. Go ahead and say yes.

"The stars have always shown me the way," thought Travis, smiling inwardly, I suppose it's my time to shine. Sliding each arm gingerly around his companion's shoulders he knew this was it. A new grace had dawned in Travis’s life; things will be different now, now things will be done right.

“Um… dude? Why are you touching me?” asked his roommate, but it was a rhetorical question. By now he knew the dude's idiosyncracies and was just interested in trying to get him to focus up and pay back a thirty five dollar loan before the cops bitch slapped his ass into the next century.

Travis, unphased, spoke with remarkable vigor. "Don't you ever give up? I told you it was hopeless! Besides, even if I could get out of here, they'd find me."

Ashen looked not to validate friendship, nor to help draw conclusions; Travis sensing his roomies dismay. The Banging Girl standing there, smoking, beckoned them both back to the built-in drink cooler. In the far left door, beneath the Gatorade, Powerade and energy drinks was a secret door that he had forgoten about from long ago. While opening the door, Travis found to his dismay the old man had not lied. The end was unravelling. It was almost as if he'd dreamt it all. And that Tuesday morning Travis hadn't experienced his usual bouts of paranoia that so often infected his waking hours. No, that morning he put up no fight.

"Now Travis, just this last pink feather boa should be enough of a disguise to get past them. I'm going to call and verify that we are in. Are ALL of us in??" This woman was overwhelming pushy.

Travis, following her every word, nodded mutely. Damned if he was going to indulge in several large vats of over-greased popcorn with the communal living group. Instead he decided to eat the vinyl off of the armrests. The damn straightjacket hindered his gyrations but he was just able to
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