HugofLegend
Shirley and her husband were arguing over fries again. The service person impatience was radiating across the com. "Will that be with fries or not Sir?", and "Dammit do you want fries Shirl?", and "I didn't even want to get fast food anyway. We should have gone to a restaurant." The worker taking the order let out a sigh that went unheard.
We rode down the freeway laughing. He was wild on the motorbike, and I gripped his denim jacket in tight fists as he leaned forward as if to touch the horizon with the top of his shiny helmet. The roar of the engine couldn't drown out our happiness.
He lacked technique. His voice cracked a time or two, but it didn't matter to anyone in the room. The songs crawled inside the hearts of the audience and nested there. The raw feeling made up for any lack of perfection. His mistakes only fed the dream shared from the stage.
She is a crook. Through her cheery demeanor, and pink gloss smile it is easy to tell that murder is on her mind. No one will ever know.
She held in a yell of frustration as the shampoo began to sting her eyes. She was late, and the day was off to a crap start.