He was hungry again. He hated to admit it, but he was. He didn't want to eat, he already had a pot-belly that came and went as his weight fluctuated. It always had. He rarely, if ever, worked out; he always wanted to, but one way or the other it always fell through
( ... )
Short story to quell the moodbeaker_beeJune 7 2006, 05:08:27 UTC
Sounded oddly autobiographic didn't it? Perhaps no. I'm feeling 100% contented this fine evening. I can't even tell you what my day has been like but it involved the following:
reading in the sun on soft grass sucking down a green tea milkshake falling asleep in my comfy bed for a long nap
playing frisbee at the park drinking hot tea on my porch watching squirrels cooking din din and watching a badly taped 'the Breakfast Club' Taking a warm shower and sliping into silky nightgown to pack for Boston Listening to amazing music that invokes the rapture while my hair dries rapture rapture rapture
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reading in the sun on soft grass
sucking down a green tea milkshake
falling asleep in my comfy bed for a long nap
playing frisbee at the park
drinking hot tea on my porch watching squirrels
cooking din din and watching a badly taped 'the Breakfast Club'
Taking a warm shower and sliping into silky nightgown to pack for Boston
Listening to amazing music that invokes the rapture while my hair dries
rapture
rapture
rapture
Can't wait for Catpower.
Loved the narrative.
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