So it's stupid o'clock on a Monday
I don't even know. Probably won't be continued, as I am lazy. Rule of thumb is if I didn't finish it when I started it, it will never be complete on paper. I have it outlined roughly in my brain, though. And it's shit even there.
Marty sat. Rather, he continued sitting, maintaining his personal status quo of the past three hours while busy doctors and hassled nurses rushed around him.
It had not been a good day. Marty had been thinking back to when things took a definite U-turn from Decentville to Suckanopolis.
First he'd woken up before his alarm went off. He hated that.
Then he'd discovered he didn't have enough milk for his coffee and cereal. He chose caffeine over nourishment, as that craving was more immediate than the hunger pangs.
At work, Marty's stomach had been vocally berating him, but today was his cubicle-mate Dave's turn to buy lunch. Dave had called in sick, and Marty hadn't prepared for that scenario. He had just enough change to scrounge up an impromptu feast of a Twinkie knock-off and a bag of three-week-old expired pretzels.
And then in the process of skulking off early, Marty had witnessed a man he didn't recognize collapse in the parking garage. His cell phone didn't have reception, so Marty'd gracelessly thrown the man over his shoulder, staggered to the exit, and called an ambulance.
Three hours later he was still at the hospital. No one had given him the go-ahead to leave, or updated his knowledge on the anonymous man's condition, or done anything at all to shift Marty's attitude from die-in-a-fire-see-if-I-acknowledge-your-screams to only mostly-apathetic.
One would have reasoned Marty's spirits would be improved by the cheering thought that though his day had been total shit, at the very least he was not an anonymous man unconscious in the depths of a hospital, only in professional care and not dead (as far as Marty knew, and his knowledge at that point could be measured by the square-root of fuck-all) because another man had snuck away from his desk half an hour early in a bought of self-pity. However, they were not.
One could also have reasoned Marty was not an especially happy man.
Next with Marty's shenanigans here.
It's like an image search. How many tense-shifts can you spot?
Marty sat. Rather, he continued sitting, maintaining his personal status quo of the past three hours while busy doctors and hassled nurses rushed around him.
It had not been a good day. Marty had been thinking back to when things took a definite U-turn from Decentville to Suckanopolis.
First he'd woken up before his alarm went off. He hated that.
Then he'd discovered he didn't have enough milk for his coffee and cereal. He chose caffeine over nourishment, as that craving was more immediate than the hunger pangs.
At work, Marty's stomach had been vocally berating him, but today was his cubicle-mate Dave's turn to buy lunch. Dave had called in sick, and Marty hadn't prepared for that scenario. He had just enough change to scrounge up an impromptu feast of a Twinkie knock-off and a bag of three-week-old expired pretzels.
And then in the process of skulking off early, Marty had witnessed a man he didn't recognize collapse in the parking garage. His cell phone didn't have reception, so Marty'd gracelessly thrown the man over his shoulder, staggered to the exit, and called an ambulance.
Three hours later he was still at the hospital. No one had given him the go-ahead to leave, or updated his knowledge on the anonymous man's condition, or done anything at all to shift Marty's attitude from die-in-a-fire-see-if-I-acknowledge-your-screams to only mostly-apathetic.
One would have reasoned Marty's spirits would be improved by the cheering thought that though his day had been total shit, at the very least he was not an anonymous man unconscious in the depths of a hospital, only in professional care and not dead (as far as Marty knew, and his knowledge at that point could be measured by the square-root of fuck-all) because another man had snuck away from his desk half an hour early in a bought of self-pity. However, they were not.
One could also have reasoned Marty was not an especially happy man.
Next with Marty's shenanigans here.
It's like an image search. How many tense-shifts can you spot?