WHY WOULDN'T I CARE?- Ferard

12

FRANK'S POV

I'm late for work. I'm brushing my teeth as I put on my pants, I'm drinking my coffee as I brush my hair.

I speed walk to my front door and swing it open. I nearly scream when I see a man on my porch.

"Oh... Hi Frank." Gerard looks at me like a deer in headlights.

"Thank God it's just you, I thought I was about to get murdered." I try to calm my rapid breathing.

I notice a black box in Gerard's hand.

"What's that?" I point at the box.

"A gift. I might as well give it to you face to face." Gerard hands me the feather light box.

I shake the box. Multiple items rattle in the box.

I slowly open the box, I completely forget about how late I am for work.

Guitar picks. Guitar picks with dicks on them.

"They're dick picks." Gerard giggles at his own pun.

I chuckle, "Thank you, you dork."

There's a moment of silence. When I look up, Gerard is gone.

A note lays on my porch.

Hey Frank.

I hope you like the dick picks.

Yours truly,
Gerard

I walk to work. I don't run. I dont even care that I'm late anymore.

I get yelled at when I walk through the doors. But, I keep the smile on my face.

AN

-GROOVYLADY