Mr.Bojangals

Mr.Bojangals

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It's important to take care of your body, he thought picking up the apple. Across the counter a protein bar called his name. Chocolate coated, with chocolate chips and a chocolate center. But it was a protein bar so it had to be healthy, right? Cause of the protein.

"Yeah, that's right push it!" He wasn't doing any lifting himself, but still there was a vein pulsing on the side of his head. I managed one more and set the weight back on the rack. "Killer, bro. Straight ripped my friend." He put his hand up for what I thought was a high-five and I was surprised when his hand wrapped around mine a bit more tightly than comfortable. He pulled me towards him and put his other arm around my back. "That's how we get strong." he said. "That's how we become great."

"And scorpion, left leg up." The instructor stated at the front of the class. Everyone rolled onto their stomachs and swung their legs over their shoulders. Well, as best they could they did. How does she do it? He thought to himself, trying his best not to stare too long as she flawlessly completed the action ahead of him. She quicly glanced back and his darted up to meet hers. His eyes went wide as they lingered on hers. "Oh, I um, was just..." "And right leg."

crisp

A crips? I don't know what that is... Crisps, sir? Crisps. As in, cheese and onion? Or salt and vinegar? Crisps. Uh huh, okay. Well, maybe I'll just have some fries then, do y'all have them? Ah, you mean chips, sir? Well, goddanggit! Now you're just messing with me.

I wrote the music and she would write the lyrics. She was more of a poet than a songwriter. She had this ability to take the things that people feel and turn them into words. Not describe them, but write out the words so that when you read them, you could really feel it. It made it easy to make the music. I just made it sound how she made it feel.

The roads certainly couldn't be getting better, she thought peering through the glint of the fireplace on the window-pane. But they must be close, they're certainly close. The rain poured down through the needles and boughs of the pine trees heavier and heavier, blocking out the moon. As the rain intensified, it brought along with it darkness. Suddenly, from the wood of the deck, she heard it start. Tinc-tinc at first, lifting to a thud-thud, and a crescendo of booming power on the roof, the walls, the windows. The darkness outside was overwhelming, and the window of the living room only reflected back the light of the fire. On the surface of the road, balls of ice exploded in shards and dust.

I think we should use the nice ones, she's my mother for Christ's sake! I understand where you're coming from, but she isn't a queen or anything she's... She's what? She's just your mother. Aha! JUST my mother. I suppose you'd break out the plastic for your mother as well, eh? Sweetheart, my mother is dead.

broke

It was never really a fear of mine, but I suppose it always kind of loomed as a possibility. I know some people always had a safety net, I'm not sure what they meant by that, if they were walking on a damn tight-rope but anyway, I've never really felt that way. If I ever did, I can't remember. But it's not there now.

"Would a spoon be okay, though?" He looked over the top of his newspaper with only a half-attentive glance. "Would a.. wait, what?" "You said not to stick a knife or a fork in it..." the child replied, his gaze shifting from father to outlet, father to outlet. "But is a spoon okay?" The father sighed, lifting the newspaper. "You know what, sure. A spoon is fine."

wagon

Dysentery. That's what they called it. Not rightly sure I had any idea what it meant. But hell, I knew what it did. Wife in the ground in Dakota. Son in the ground in Nebraska. Two hundred miles to Oregon and the only thing I have to my name is a damn empty wagon and, you guessed it, dysentery.

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writing since 2013 · 17 entries · 16 days shown up

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mr.bojangals wrote about strengthen
“"Yeah, that's right push it!" He wasn't doing any lifting himself, but still there was a vein pulsing on the side of his head. I managed one more and set the weight back on the rack. "Killer, bro…”

the words mr.bojangals reaches for

mothernowroomhimselfproudhandcoucheyesnamesurespoonfatherliftingcrispsproteinchocolate