All you need to know is that this book is a jumble of story drafts, art, and topics for connecting with people (on Wattpad) more. It's also a book to help prevent my account from getting cluttered with unnecessary
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I'll be giving most of my fa...
Beep!!! Beep!!! Beep!!! Symphonies made by choirs of birds and the wind twirling through each tree branch — both calming to the human mind — drowned out by roaring motors, the putrid smell of gas and childlike laughter. These sounds blasted through two rows of houses, parallel, with a one-way road in the middle. Despite the sun being out, I still laid in my bed, tossing and turning. Ha! Ha! Ha! Grumbling, I placed a pillow over my head, mainly focused on cancelling out the sounds. Eventually a small, rectangular box started making constantly annoying, vibrating noises. I took the pillow off my face and aggressively turned the alarm off. My feet then touched the soft, carpeted floor... I stopped for a bit, stretching my arms out in every direction with a big yawn that came afterwards. Time for some sunlight. I opened the blinds, peering through the veranda to my neighbour across the road.
Matilda, my neighbour, is a women around her 80's. She wears a buttoned-up shirt with colourful nature prints, thick and long light-greenish jeans with a straw hat covered by small pink & purple flowers. Lines across her face told the story of time, skin of snow, saturated green-eyes and grey short-hair. 'Typical for her age' I thought bluntly. She knelt down and started conversing with one of her many pot plants. Matty has always been this strange. ——————
I opened up my front door with a water bottle in hand, big backpack and headphones connected to my phone. Taking a couple steps out onto the veranda, I looked back to make sure everything was locked up properly. Three steps down. Forward. Before I knew it, I was on a footpath. Fastening my paste. The roaring motors grew louder. Finally I reached a bus stop near a supermarket. My eyes looked every corner - no one in sight. Good! I ravaged through my bag and found it, my ID classification as a Chaos Insurgent. "There you are baby," I whispered to myself, giving it a kiss before relocating it inside my pockets. Sitting down, all I had to do now was wait. 5 minutes. 10 minutes. 15 20 25 ... I lost count. Finally an old shabby van pulled in. The driver wore sunglasses, had dark skin and well combed hair. He wore a formal uniform with a logo on the left sleeve. This logo had the appearance of a target with curvy lines that twirled parallel from the outer circle to the inner red dot.
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I recognised it. This is my transport. "Are you by chance Marcus McMurdo?" the man said raising his right brow.
"Yep! that's me good sir," I said in a high pitched voice, purposely mimicking a 'stereotypical' women. I then did a courtesy with my none-existent dress.
"Alright. Get in you menace!"
We both started laughing uncontrollably. His name is Kyle Flecker. We've been good pals for over 4 years now. We had...questionable humour.
