"You're late. Slacker."
Jennipher grabbed her timecard and punched in. "I'm really sorry, Denise. It won't happen again."
"Relax, Jen. I was just kidding. Get up front. You're on phones today."
Jen put her purse in her locker and headed to the front of the restaurant. She had been working at Alligretti's Family Pizzeria for just over two months and still didn't know how to interpret her supervisor's moods. Some days Denise was buddy-buddy with everyone, some days - well, the less said, the better.
"Are you all right today, Jen? You seem a little out of it."
"Sorry. It's been a long day. This guy, Steve-"
"It's always about the boys, isn't it? I'm sick of them myself."
Jen held her tongue. Denise had worked her way through most of the guys who worked at Alligretti's, and bringing any of them up was a sure way to set her off.
"Anyway, I was wondering if you could cover for me on Saturday."
"Open instead of close?" Jen smiled. "I think I can swing that."
"Awesome - oh, no. That creepy guy's back."
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Wednesday, May 30, 2007
Chapter 6
The path to the bomb shelter had become more unkempt in the past few years. The fact that there was still a way back was more a testament to local high schoolers' conviction to engage in moderate debauchery than anything. Gnats and bitemes patrolled the weeds, forcing Steve and Gar to flail wildly as they forced their way through the overgrowth. It thinned and then petered out to the bomb shelter clearing.
The cinder blocks were a weather-beaten gray. Empty PBR and Old Style cans, some crushed, littered the landscape. The outside of the shelter was covered with graffiti. Spray-painted declarations of love had faded just as, likely enough, the relationships themselves had. Someone had cleverly sprayed "Nina In Da Hose," then crossed out "Hose" with one line and written "House" directly below it.
The interior - well, what had been the interior when this was presumably a bomb shelter - was decorated in a similar manner. Cartoon stick figures in assorted positions. Empty bottles of hard liquor, some broken, covered the ground. A few condoms had been left behind - Steve and Gar steered extra clear of those.
"Let's see this tree, Destiny."
Steve wasted no time, walking to a tall oak. About seven or eight feet off the ground, sure enough, a scorch mark three inches wide marred the bark of the tree. The boys stood and stared until Steve broke the silence.
"I understand you have no reason to believe me. I could have come here last night and burned this mark into the tree. I could have made up the whole thing as an elaborate practical joke. But I didn't. That's not me, man."
"I know. But isn't it possible...I don't know, that you imagined it? Or that the past few years have added something to your story?"
Steve sighed, kicking cigarette butts into the woods. "Can you remember a life-changing moment? Anything."
"I wouldn't say I've been on the road to Damascus, but I do remember some significant things from my life."
"Think about them. You remember every detail, right? Even if you're not always honest in the telling. That's how this is. I remember everything. The way the wind smelled. The way the light filtered through the trees. I'll tell you what - when we were here a few years back, that Nina In Da Hose graffiti wasn't here yet. The newest spray paint on the outside of the shelter was 'Amber and Kris 4-ever.' After Jennipher punched-"
"Okay, listen. I believe that you came back here. I believe that Semmes punched out McNeil. I can wrap my head around that. I may even believe there was a door here, but the rest of it - the visions, your destiny? I'm sorry, brother. Come on. Let's go."
As Gar walked back to the path, Steve closed his eyes. Felt the light on his eyelids. Smelled the weathered cinder blocks. And he heard the wind through the trees, calling softly, "Soon...Soon...Soon."
The cinder blocks were a weather-beaten gray. Empty PBR and Old Style cans, some crushed, littered the landscape. The outside of the shelter was covered with graffiti. Spray-painted declarations of love had faded just as, likely enough, the relationships themselves had. Someone had cleverly sprayed "Nina In Da Hose," then crossed out "Hose" with one line and written "House" directly below it.
The interior - well, what had been the interior when this was presumably a bomb shelter - was decorated in a similar manner. Cartoon stick figures in assorted positions. Empty bottles of hard liquor, some broken, covered the ground. A few condoms had been left behind - Steve and Gar steered extra clear of those.
"Let's see this tree, Destiny."
Steve wasted no time, walking to a tall oak. About seven or eight feet off the ground, sure enough, a scorch mark three inches wide marred the bark of the tree. The boys stood and stared until Steve broke the silence.
"I understand you have no reason to believe me. I could have come here last night and burned this mark into the tree. I could have made up the whole thing as an elaborate practical joke. But I didn't. That's not me, man."
"I know. But isn't it possible...I don't know, that you imagined it? Or that the past few years have added something to your story?"
Steve sighed, kicking cigarette butts into the woods. "Can you remember a life-changing moment? Anything."
"I wouldn't say I've been on the road to Damascus, but I do remember some significant things from my life."
"Think about them. You remember every detail, right? Even if you're not always honest in the telling. That's how this is. I remember everything. The way the wind smelled. The way the light filtered through the trees. I'll tell you what - when we were here a few years back, that Nina In Da Hose graffiti wasn't here yet. The newest spray paint on the outside of the shelter was 'Amber and Kris 4-ever.' After Jennipher punched-"
"Okay, listen. I believe that you came back here. I believe that Semmes punched out McNeil. I can wrap my head around that. I may even believe there was a door here, but the rest of it - the visions, your destiny? I'm sorry, brother. Come on. Let's go."
As Gar walked back to the path, Steve closed his eyes. Felt the light on his eyelids. Smelled the weathered cinder blocks. And he heard the wind through the trees, calling softly, "Soon...Soon...Soon."
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
Chapter 5
Taken from the March 16 issue of The Weekly Buzz, an independent newspaper serving Northwest Indiana:
------------------------------------------------
Local student named National STAR Scholar
Central Lake High School student Steve Norcutt was recently awarded the prestigious honor of being named a National STAR Scholar. To qualify for this, a student must score in the top one-half of onepercent [sic] on the FSAT, a test given to junior-year students all over the country.
"I felt like I did well on the test," Norcutt, 17, said, "I just didn't know how well until I learned I was a semifinalist."
Once named as a semifinalist, Norcutt had to achieve a similar score on the "real" SAT to "prove" his score, in addition to wirting [sic] an essay and filling out a lengthy questionnaire.
We're always proud of our son," his mother, Shelly Norcutt said. "We always knew he was destined for great things."
Another person unsurprised by Norcutt's achievements is his high school English teacher, Penny Kotoly. "Steve has been a 'star scholar' in the classroom his entire time at Central Lake. He's just academically awesome."
Steve's father Sam offered a look to the future. "I think this opens a lot of doors for him, college-wise."
Steve has said he's still undecided as to where he'll attend college in the fall.
------------------------------------------------
Local student named National STAR Scholar
Central Lake High School student Steve Norcutt was recently awarded the prestigious honor of being named a National STAR Scholar. To qualify for this, a student must score in the top one-half of onepercent [sic] on the FSAT, a test given to junior-year students all over the country.
"I felt like I did well on the test," Norcutt, 17, said, "I just didn't know how well until I learned I was a semifinalist."
Once named as a semifinalist, Norcutt had to achieve a similar score on the "real" SAT to "prove" his score, in addition to wirting [sic] an essay and filling out a lengthy questionnaire.
We're always proud of our son," his mother, Shelly Norcutt said. "We always knew he was destined for great things."
Another person unsurprised by Norcutt's achievements is his high school English teacher, Penny Kotoly. "Steve has been a 'star scholar' in the classroom his entire time at Central Lake. He's just academically awesome."
Steve's father Sam offered a look to the future. "I think this opens a lot of doors for him, college-wise."
Steve has said he's still undecided as to where he'll attend college in the fall.
Monday, May 28, 2007
Chapter 4
"We knew other kids from the party were coming to scare us. It's the obvious play, right? They'd show up, shout, scare us half to death, and then never let us forget how they 'totally got us' and we 'totally jumped.' Jen and I figured we'd turn the tables on them, we'd hide off to the side and then scare the kids who came to scare us. Foolproof, right?
"So lying off to the side was this door - a little weather-beaten, but a door. Like it came out of someone's house, although why someone would bring a door - complete with frame - all the way out into this forest I'll never know. The door was propped against the tree like this," Steve motioned with his hands, his left propping against his right at about an 60-degree angle, "so we went to hide under the door, thinking the thing to do would be to just crawl under it, right? No need to see if the door opens, right? Well, for whatever reason, Jen opens it. Just pulls it open."
Steve paused to collect his thoughts. Gar leaned forward, his shake forgotten.
"What happened, man?"
"It's tough to describe. You know, you open a door that's propped against a tree, you expect to see the tree behind it, right? Well, it wasn't. You need to understand that - we didn't see the tree behind it at all. Just..."
"Just what?"
"Hmmm..." Steve collected his thoughts, "you know how before comic movies, the Marvel logo is just a flash of images from the comics, and then the Marvel logo? This was like that, only obviously not comics. Just flashes of images, only a few of which I remember."
"What did you see?"
"I remember a man with a scar standing next to some kind of a glowing...circle...thing. A sphere. A glowing sphere. And I remember an old African guy and a huge lion out on the plains. And...I think I remember three more doors, like I could go Northeast, due North, or Northwest. Do you see what I mean?"
"Let's assume for a second that you did see these mysterious 'flashes.' How does that make Jen your destiny?"
Steve's voice dropped to a near-whisper. "I saw her, man. I saw Jen. She looked...radiant. That's the only word to describe it. Standing in a pool of crystal blue water, beauty and energy and...power. Just radiating from her like a beacon. I saw it for a second - just an INSTANT of time is all it took. And I knew, right then and there, that she was my destiny."
Gar raised an eyebrow. "Does SHE know she's your destiny?"
"Well, here's the thing. She slammed the door shut and she was shaking. Absolutely shaking. Quivering, in fact. I pulled her close and held her - what else could I do? - and whispered in her ear. I asked her what she saw. She didn't say anything, but drew in this great big breath like she was about to scream, and that's when Sam McNeil jumped out of the woods to scare us. Jen freaked out, screamed, burst into tears and just punched him. Dropped him like a chump."
"How did Sam take it?"
"When he woke up we told him he had tripped and hit his head on a rock. He wasn't going to admit being KO'ed by a girl, so he went with it. To my knowledge, he's never said a thing to anyone."
"And have you and Semmes...talked about this mystical vision?"
"No. I was worried about Sam at first, then we obviously couldn't talk about it at the party, especially since we were...asked to leave thanks to the Unicorn bit. Jen left for soccer camp two days later and we just never...I guess we both buried it in our subconsciouses. Is that right? Subconsciouses?"
"Beats me. Must have been late to English that day. But this door...did you ever go back? You know, check it out for more visions?"
"I did, about a week later. I was scared half to death all the way out there. Just dread of what I would find. But when I got there, the door was gone, just a tiny scorch mark where it had been leaning against the tree."
"Okay, okay. Assuming all this crazy talk is for real - and don't think for a second I am, let me ask you this - why did you think your Senior flippin' Prom was the key to your destiny?"
"It's all anyone has - aw, crap. It's Slapman."
Chuck Binole made his way over to their table. As he walked, the soles of his shoes flopped away from the rest, giving his walk a distinctive slap-slap sound. Acne and acne scars covered most of his face and his hair looked greasy enough to fry the burger that had obviously stained his T-shirt.
"Hey, it's the academic star! Can I get your autograph, star?"
"We were just leaving, Binole."
As Chuck retreated, cackling and slap-slap-slapping the entire way, Gar leaned over. "You should have given him the autograph. Right on the front page of the Local section where he could learn all about your achievements. Woo! National Merit! Academically Awesome!"
"Dude, Slapman wouldn't know awesome academics if they punched him in the crotch."
"Nice. Oh, and I still think you're lying about this door thing."
"You don't believe me? I'll prove it. Let's go."
"So lying off to the side was this door - a little weather-beaten, but a door. Like it came out of someone's house, although why someone would bring a door - complete with frame - all the way out into this forest I'll never know. The door was propped against the tree like this," Steve motioned with his hands, his left propping against his right at about an 60-degree angle, "so we went to hide under the door, thinking the thing to do would be to just crawl under it, right? No need to see if the door opens, right? Well, for whatever reason, Jen opens it. Just pulls it open."
Steve paused to collect his thoughts. Gar leaned forward, his shake forgotten.
"What happened, man?"
"It's tough to describe. You know, you open a door that's propped against a tree, you expect to see the tree behind it, right? Well, it wasn't. You need to understand that - we didn't see the tree behind it at all. Just..."
"Just what?"
"Hmmm..." Steve collected his thoughts, "you know how before comic movies, the Marvel logo is just a flash of images from the comics, and then the Marvel logo? This was like that, only obviously not comics. Just flashes of images, only a few of which I remember."
"What did you see?"
"I remember a man with a scar standing next to some kind of a glowing...circle...thing. A sphere. A glowing sphere. And I remember an old African guy and a huge lion out on the plains. And...I think I remember three more doors, like I could go Northeast, due North, or Northwest. Do you see what I mean?"
"Let's assume for a second that you did see these mysterious 'flashes.' How does that make Jen your destiny?"
Steve's voice dropped to a near-whisper. "I saw her, man. I saw Jen. She looked...radiant. That's the only word to describe it. Standing in a pool of crystal blue water, beauty and energy and...power. Just radiating from her like a beacon. I saw it for a second - just an INSTANT of time is all it took. And I knew, right then and there, that she was my destiny."
Gar raised an eyebrow. "Does SHE know she's your destiny?"
"Well, here's the thing. She slammed the door shut and she was shaking. Absolutely shaking. Quivering, in fact. I pulled her close and held her - what else could I do? - and whispered in her ear. I asked her what she saw. She didn't say anything, but drew in this great big breath like she was about to scream, and that's when Sam McNeil jumped out of the woods to scare us. Jen freaked out, screamed, burst into tears and just punched him. Dropped him like a chump."
"How did Sam take it?"
"When he woke up we told him he had tripped and hit his head on a rock. He wasn't going to admit being KO'ed by a girl, so he went with it. To my knowledge, he's never said a thing to anyone."
"And have you and Semmes...talked about this mystical vision?"
"No. I was worried about Sam at first, then we obviously couldn't talk about it at the party, especially since we were...asked to leave thanks to the Unicorn bit. Jen left for soccer camp two days later and we just never...I guess we both buried it in our subconsciouses. Is that right? Subconsciouses?"
"Beats me. Must have been late to English that day. But this door...did you ever go back? You know, check it out for more visions?"
"I did, about a week later. I was scared half to death all the way out there. Just dread of what I would find. But when I got there, the door was gone, just a tiny scorch mark where it had been leaning against the tree."
"Okay, okay. Assuming all this crazy talk is for real - and don't think for a second I am, let me ask you this - why did you think your Senior flippin' Prom was the key to your destiny?"
"It's all anyone has - aw, crap. It's Slapman."
Chuck Binole made his way over to their table. As he walked, the soles of his shoes flopped away from the rest, giving his walk a distinctive slap-slap sound. Acne and acne scars covered most of his face and his hair looked greasy enough to fry the burger that had obviously stained his T-shirt.
"Hey, it's the academic star! Can I get your autograph, star?"
"We were just leaving, Binole."
As Chuck retreated, cackling and slap-slap-slapping the entire way, Gar leaned over. "You should have given him the autograph. Right on the front page of the Local section where he could learn all about your achievements. Woo! National Merit! Academically Awesome!"
"Dude, Slapman wouldn't know awesome academics if they punched him in the crotch."
"Nice. Oh, and I still think you're lying about this door thing."
"You don't believe me? I'll prove it. Let's go."
Sunday, May 27, 2007
Chapter 3
After school...
"So what is it," Gar asked, taking a long sip of his shake, "oh, that's a good shake - What is it about Jen that has you so retarded for her?"
"Dude, I've told you not to use 'retarded' like that."
"Sorry. Why are you so head over heels for this girl?"
Steve looked around. The table they were at was secluded enough so that none of the carhops would overhear the story. His chili-cheese fries sat, mostly eaten, in front of him.
"Do you really want to hear the whole story?"
"Yes. The whole story, and nothing but the story. I asked, didn't I?"
"Fine. But I've never told anyone the entire story before. You've heard most of it. And don't interrupt me, because if I stop, I may not be able to start again. Okay?"
"..."
"Okay?!"
"You told me not to interrupt!"
Steve sighed. "Okay. Here is what happened. 7th grade, Liz Bogner's party. You may remember it as the party that Bob got us kicked out of for the 'I'm a Unicorn' bit. But I'll always remember it as the day I knew that Jennipher was the girl for me.
"A bunch of us were out back near the woods behind Liz's house. Someone mentioned the old bomb shelter back there. Talked about how it was haunted, about how some kids had gone back there to drink and had never come back. All the guys started daring each other to go back there and somehow, the girls got involved. Jen said she would go, and then the guys fell all over each other to go. Because even then, she was gorgeous.
"So one paper-rock-scissors tournament later, I was walking through the woods, which were pretty creepy at this point, with Jen Semmes. I don't even remember what we talked about on the way there - scratch that, I do remember saying that the other kids would sneak behind us and try to scare us. She smiled her little half-smile and said we'd deal with that when it happened.
"We got to the bomb shelter and to be honest, it wasn't that impressive. Some graffiti, some garbage, a few empty beer cans. We laughed about it for a little while, and then things got weird - this is the part you haven't heard before."
"So what is it," Gar asked, taking a long sip of his shake, "oh, that's a good shake - What is it about Jen that has you so retarded for her?"
"Dude, I've told you not to use 'retarded' like that."
"Sorry. Why are you so head over heels for this girl?"
Steve looked around. The table they were at was secluded enough so that none of the carhops would overhear the story. His chili-cheese fries sat, mostly eaten, in front of him.
"Do you really want to hear the whole story?"
"Yes. The whole story, and nothing but the story. I asked, didn't I?"
"Fine. But I've never told anyone the entire story before. You've heard most of it. And don't interrupt me, because if I stop, I may not be able to start again. Okay?"
"..."
"Okay?!"
"You told me not to interrupt!"
Steve sighed. "Okay. Here is what happened. 7th grade, Liz Bogner's party. You may remember it as the party that Bob got us kicked out of for the 'I'm a Unicorn' bit. But I'll always remember it as the day I knew that Jennipher was the girl for me.
"A bunch of us were out back near the woods behind Liz's house. Someone mentioned the old bomb shelter back there. Talked about how it was haunted, about how some kids had gone back there to drink and had never come back. All the guys started daring each other to go back there and somehow, the girls got involved. Jen said she would go, and then the guys fell all over each other to go. Because even then, she was gorgeous.
"So one paper-rock-scissors tournament later, I was walking through the woods, which were pretty creepy at this point, with Jen Semmes. I don't even remember what we talked about on the way there - scratch that, I do remember saying that the other kids would sneak behind us and try to scare us. She smiled her little half-smile and said we'd deal with that when it happened.
"We got to the bomb shelter and to be honest, it wasn't that impressive. Some graffiti, some garbage, a few empty beer cans. We laughed about it for a little while, and then things got weird - this is the part you haven't heard before."
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Chapter 2
"I'm sorry," Jen said, "I really am. But I can't go to prom."
"Oh." Defeated, Steve turned to walk away.
"But if I were going - "
"No, it's cool. I understand."
If Steve hadn't been so focused on not breaking into tears then, he may have noticed how genuinely upset his high school princess was. Instead, he headed out to the Pit, a sunken courtyard where he and his friends killed time between classes. As he walked through the bustling crowd, his thoughts alternated between self-pity, anger at Jen, and possible comebacks for when his friends gave him grief about the rejection.
"What's up, guys?"
"What'd she say?" That was Stoner - not for his love of drugs, just his last name. Incidentally, Stoner's dad, an orthodontist, had the most-stolen sign in any office park in Indiana.
"She said no."
"Well, that's probably because she's going with someone much, much cooler than you." Bobby B - their resident smartass - offered.
"Shut up." (So much for witty comebacks.)
"What possessed you to even ask her?" Little Kueny asked. Somewhat of a misnomer, Little Kueny was a lineman on the football team. But his older brother was even bigger, so he had been Little Kueny for as long as anyone could remember.
"I don't know, man. I just thought -"
"That you wanted to nail her?"
"Shut up, Bob. I don't need to hear this now."
"Let the man suffer in peace, guys. He just asked out his dream girl and she told him no." Gar - Jeremy Garity - was Steve's closest friend, and as likely as the next guy to give him grief over stuff like this. But he knew when the line could and couldn't be crossed. "Come on, let's get to class. I have eight tardies in Kotoly's class and I don't need another one."
"Laters all."
"Later Casanova."
"Shut up, Bob."
Gar pulled him close as they walked away "What did she say? Is she going with Christian?"
"No, she just said she wasn't going this year."
"So maybe it isn't you - maybe she legit can't go."
"You think so?"
"She didn't tell you she was going with someone else, did she? Hey, I'll see you at Sonic after school?"
"Sounds good, man."
"Later, brother."
"Laters."
But as Gar walked away, Steve couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't about Jennipher Semmes not going to prom - it was about her not going to prom with him. So much for destiny.
"Oh." Defeated, Steve turned to walk away.
"But if I were going - "
"No, it's cool. I understand."
If Steve hadn't been so focused on not breaking into tears then, he may have noticed how genuinely upset his high school princess was. Instead, he headed out to the Pit, a sunken courtyard where he and his friends killed time between classes. As he walked through the bustling crowd, his thoughts alternated between self-pity, anger at Jen, and possible comebacks for when his friends gave him grief about the rejection.
"What's up, guys?"
"What'd she say?" That was Stoner - not for his love of drugs, just his last name. Incidentally, Stoner's dad, an orthodontist, had the most-stolen sign in any office park in Indiana.
"She said no."
"Well, that's probably because she's going with someone much, much cooler than you." Bobby B - their resident smartass - offered.
"Shut up." (So much for witty comebacks.)
"What possessed you to even ask her?" Little Kueny asked. Somewhat of a misnomer, Little Kueny was a lineman on the football team. But his older brother was even bigger, so he had been Little Kueny for as long as anyone could remember.
"I don't know, man. I just thought -"
"That you wanted to nail her?"
"Shut up, Bob. I don't need to hear this now."
"Let the man suffer in peace, guys. He just asked out his dream girl and she told him no." Gar - Jeremy Garity - was Steve's closest friend, and as likely as the next guy to give him grief over stuff like this. But he knew when the line could and couldn't be crossed. "Come on, let's get to class. I have eight tardies in Kotoly's class and I don't need another one."
"Laters all."
"Later Casanova."
"Shut up, Bob."
Gar pulled him close as they walked away "What did she say? Is she going with Christian?"
"No, she just said she wasn't going this year."
"So maybe it isn't you - maybe she legit can't go."
"You think so?"
"She didn't tell you she was going with someone else, did she? Hey, I'll see you at Sonic after school?"
"Sounds good, man."
"Later, brother."
"Laters."
But as Gar walked away, Steve couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't about Jennipher Semmes not going to prom - it was about her not going to prom with him. So much for destiny.
Friday, May 25, 2007
Chapter 1
The nausea that came with his first trip up the high dive ladder at the Munster Community Pool. The dry throat he remembered from his valedictory address to his 8th grade class. The sweaty palms brought to mind the time Pastor Wood caught him writing swears on the inside flaps of the offertory envelopes. All of these feelings rushed through him at once. It was, to that point, the most terrifying moment in Steve Norcutt's life.
He approached cautiously, aware of but disregarding the people milling around him. The heat in his face was enough to melt the paint off the lockers on either side of the hallway. The thumping of his heart, like a jackhammer on overdrive. But he had to do it - this was his destiny.
"Hey Jen - can I talk to you for a second?" (I hope I don't throw up...no, wait, that's just a burp...okay, so far, so good...
She was beautiful. High school royalty without trying. Brown hair, curly, fell over her shoulders like milk chocolate waterfalls. Her brownish-greenish eyes, just lighter than her forest green..ish sweater, sparkled with the vitality of life. Her anxious half-smile as she left her friends to talk with him, the way her eyebrow arched just so...
"What's up, Steve?"
"Not much, man." (Frick! Did I just call her man? Frick frick!) "Listen, I was wondering if you had plans for prom."
He approached cautiously, aware of but disregarding the people milling around him. The heat in his face was enough to melt the paint off the lockers on either side of the hallway. The thumping of his heart, like a jackhammer on overdrive. But he had to do it - this was his destiny.
"Hey Jen - can I talk to you for a second?" (I hope I don't throw up...no, wait, that's just a burp...okay, so far, so good...
She was beautiful. High school royalty without trying. Brown hair, curly, fell over her shoulders like milk chocolate waterfalls. Her brownish-greenish eyes, just lighter than her forest green..ish sweater, sparkled with the vitality of life. Her anxious half-smile as she left her friends to talk with him, the way her eyebrow arched just so...
"What's up, Steve?"
"Not much, man." (Frick! Did I just call her man? Frick frick!) "Listen, I was wondering if you had plans for prom."
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Introduction
Let's get one thing clear straightaway: this isn't supposed to be a good story.
It's supposed to be a story that I can update daily with posts of varying length, best described as "yeah, that's enough for the day." It's supposed to be a story that will get me in the habit of writing something new every day. It's supposed to be a story that will pass time for me - writing - and you - reading. It's supposed to be a way to make it seem like I'm working during some down time in the office. It's supposed to be updated every day I have internet access.
Oh, and it's supposed to cure cancer. We'll see how that works out.
It's supposed to be a story that I can update daily with posts of varying length, best described as "yeah, that's enough for the day." It's supposed to be a story that will get me in the habit of writing something new every day. It's supposed to be a story that will pass time for me - writing - and you - reading. It's supposed to be a way to make it seem like I'm working during some down time in the office. It's supposed to be updated every day I have internet access.
Oh, and it's supposed to cure cancer. We'll see how that works out.
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