A story in many parts by the Safeer
My eyes wandered listlessly over the minutiae of life thrumming across my vision. My mind was drifting again. A finger traced across groove across the dust covered desk behind me, a path to nowhere in particular. As always, the past resurfaced, like an ugly corpse torn from the weight that tied it down. An unwanted memory flashed, bobbed, sunk again, only to be replaced by one more gruesome. Introspection, an ugly habit. Work was scarce, my proverbial wallet emptier than a Pusher's soul, no cash even for the cheap booze that was my fuel. I was settling in for another day of boredom and self-pity when three sharp knocks broke me out of my comfortable stupor.
I turned away from the window and turned my attention to the door. A tiny head atop a slender neck poked through the door, inspecting my claustrophobic little hole I call the office. The rest of the creature followed, cautious, probing. Damn. An Outie. This could be just what I needed.
'Can I help you?' Not leaving the table, I extend my right 'arm' to the stranger. He, she, it, stiffens at the long, sinuous tentacle that passes for a greeting, visibly unnerved. I smile inwardly. Sure, I needed the job, but I always got a perverse little kick outta that part.
(Continued soon)
I turned away from the window and turned my attention to the door. A tiny head atop a slender neck poked through the door, inspecting my claustrophobic little hole I call the office. The rest of the creature followed, cautious, probing. Damn. An Outie. This could be just what I needed.
'Can I help you?' Not leaving the table, I extend my right 'arm' to the stranger. He, she, it, stiffens at the long, sinuous tentacle that passes for a greeting, visibly unnerved. I smile inwardly. Sure, I needed the job, but I always got a perverse little kick outta that part.
(Continued soon)
Yep, I'm trying to write prose of sorts. You don't have much to go off yet here, but comment away.
I like it.
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