As we sat down at our usual table at Louie’s, Tim exclaimed, “How did I get a C+? I thought this was going to be an easy class!”
Isolated in my own world, I was numb to the words of others.
My mind is elsewhere. I can’t stop thinking about meeting Anna’s parents.
Did she want me to be her clone?
Seven solemn people step up and take their place on the stand.
After smashing my friend’s scissors with my rock, my first pick was easy.
We had a mission, or more correctly, an obligation to fulfill.
Twenty laughing, smiling faces replace the expected meatheads.
The sweet March cold alleviated my dry throat.
All I wanted to do was be in their shoes, but my stupid ankle couldn’t handle it.
This was taking seasonal depression to a whole new level: dark, cold, and miserable.
She sat there on the couch laughing, crying. Her mood swings were uncontrollable, but I didn’t care. I sat on the other couch watching TV. What was wrong with me?
I contemplated mutiny.
After the eternal moment passed, Father Chuck cleared his throat.