kibi9
I wonder what someone's thinking when he decides he wants to be a mayor. It's a big responsibility, but doesn't come close to something major, like being a president. And do mayors in real life even *wear* those sashes?
Walking up the stairs into the cathedral, I felt a quick chill in the back of my neck. It was strangely beautiful, in the semi-darkness, with candlelight painting the walls softly below.
"What the hell is that racket?" Mrs. Donald yelled from her room.
I cringed. We'd woken her up. And we weren't even being that loud. That cranky bitch was always looking for reasons to scream at us.
"This is a necessity," the store associate said, picking up an unusual plastic object. He held it out to me. "Do you have one of these?"
I shrugged. "Um, what is it?"
"I'm on a quest," she said. She grabbed her coat, hurrying, not even looking at her confused roommate. She grabbed her backpack and began to throw in the essentials: wallet, keys, water, and then some other objects that one could argue should never be considered important.
Someone was calling my name in the distance. That's what it sounded like; but it didn't make any sense. Who else was out here? Even if I wasn't alone, how would anyone here know my name?
Backspace, an odd word that almost doesn't connect to what it means: delete. A "back-space" would almost suggest a space in the other direction.
The lift at Porter was out of order, as it had been for the last two months. Janie would need to get off at the next station where the lift was functioning, then take a shuttle back to Porter.
"I'm so sorry for your loss." It's strange how words that are meant to bring comfort seem so empty and meaningless. Everyone says the same thing when they don't know what to say; they might as well say nothing.
The Chief of Police was not happy. Things had been getting sloppy, and he was not at the point in his life where he could deal with such things. He just didn't have the energy to make things better.
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