I'm sitting in my apartment, wearing a raincoat and smoking a hand rolled cigarette. I only partake in the action when I get to make them.
The lights are off, and my phone is sitting on the table in front of me. How long have I been waiting for it to buzz? The clock on the wall isn't even set up right, I just keep it around to fill the room up with the clicking of the second hand.
It's been a couple years now, doing the same damn tedious job for some big-eared no show. That is possibly the most true and nicest explanation from him... good thinking Beau.
Thanks Beau-
I'm talking to myself again... that's wonderful. I need that phone to buzz, I need something to do and I need it fast. If I don't get moving again, I'm going to go take it out on somebody else-
*he looks back, theres two bodies left where they were murdered, an Enderian, and a Blaze, both suffering from water burns and bullet wounds.
I have a firearm in my coat. It's a 9mm, holds 11 rounds, yet when I take the magazine out and spill the rounds on the floor... I count nine.
It's a nice place... it's definitely not mine. My phone still hasn't gone off. Maybe I should recount the bullets?
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9...
I don't remember using the two- no. I don't remember being told to use the two, I was told to use one. Just the purple one, 'n at the fire abomination.
Why the hell did he have to collect rent at this very moment?
"Yo my guy, tell me why you had to get your damn money at this cery second?" I call out, shockingly I get no answer. He's probably dead.
Why am I talking to myself so much? What does it achieve...? Who knows, it passes the time. I don't think on my hobby that much... usually it's just simple things like "oooh... this dude asked the wrong question" or "waaaa I'm god but I can't fix this problem, waaaa"
Tssk Tssk.
It's kinda funny honestly. So what if they know? The hell are they gonna do? Ask to leave? Sometimes I question what the hell this is all for-
bzzzzz
Never mind. It's about damn time.
Written by Dec (Server Owner)