"Lando, can you help me figure something out quickly?"
The man leans back in his seat and watches me intently with cold eyes.
"Sure Zak, anything for the big boss at Mclaren. Wassup?"
"How long... have you been sleeping with my daughter?"
In a fast...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Posted 2 hours ago
~~
I fell from the top of the stairs...
My second last day in Mexico, I went for a run around the neighbourhood. The air that night was crisp and mystifying as I jogged passed the tucked away streets.
What started off as the kind of evening known to lure even ancient gods to go out romancing, quickly turned into something short lived because of the pounding in my head. But it was at least enough to still get my blood vessels pumping.
Upon arriving back at the hotel, I stopped by the front desk to have a quick chat with the lady manning things. She'd been kind enough to map out the short running route for me so I wanted to convey my thanks and wish her a goodnight.
"Muchas gracias por el consejo." (Thank you very much for the tip.)
She blushes graciously and says, "You're welcome mi hija. I teach you Spanish and you help me practice my English. It's a win win for everyone." The weight of her heavy Mexican accent lingers on every vowel and syllable as she speaks.
I tripped from the top of the stairs...
My second last afternoon in Mexico I couldn't help but feel claustrophobic, held captive by a nightmare that never returned but only because I hadn't allowed myself to sleep much since it's occurrence.
I kept telling myself the feeling of impending doom that loomed over me these last few days were because of the headaches I hadn't been able to fully shake off but even I know that when I closed my eyes and the ringing filled my ears, I couldn't escape the hooded figure with the serenading song that followed over and over again like a broken record in my head.
And that's where my anxiety currently lies.
"Olivia, you dumb bitch."
Sometimes the words come in a whisper drafted by a faint breeze. Other times I hear them so distinctly, the tiny hairs on my arms shoot up.
I was pushed from the top of the stairs...
My second last night in Mexico I took the stairs instead of the elevator. The aim to tire myself out so that maybe I'd be forced to pass out without thinking. Everyone left this afternoon and it has me feeling exiled.
I almost make it too till I collide into a lady just as I reach my floor. She opens the door to the staircase right as I pull it. Two colliding birds shot down from the sky. Nothing like a scene from an early 2000s romcom.
The surprise startles us both with her dropping the garment she had in hand and with me gasping, then nervously giggling as I reach for my heart out of shock.
