Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep.
"Damn it!"
I hate mornings, I'm not a morning person. Never have been, never will be. Wait a minute...I roll over to look at the face of the alarm and see 11:43 staring back at me, taunting me. How many times did I hit snooze?
"Shit!"
I have a job interview at noon today, moms going to kill me. I throw the covers back and swing my legs out as fast as I can manage. Scanning the floor I see a pair of jeans over by my desk, I lunge towards them faster than my recently sleeping body was ready for and find myself slamming face first in the cold wood floor.
"Ow!"
I look back to my alarm and see it's now 11:45, I'm so screwed. I begin crawling towards my jeans frantically, why did I stay up so late smoking hookah? Reaching my jeans I flip onto my back and begin pulling both legs up simultaneously, as I wiggle them up past my hips I hear a lawn mower start outside my window. My neighbor, Harper Fromm is meticulously anal when it comes to his yard, not that you would ever catch me telling him that. First off, he's a mountain of a man, very intimidating. Second, he has never been anything but kind to me. He has been my neighbor since I can remember and it was in his pool that I learned to swim and by his hand I learned to catch a baseball. My floor is covered with clothes from the last few weeks, when I reach down to grab the first black t-shirt I see I quickly realize it's wrinkled beyond repair and the odor coming from it might not leave my interviewer with the impression I'm looking for. Dropping the shirt I rush over to my closet throwing open the door.
"Uuh."
My closet contains approximately 30 hangers, all which are currently empty. It's almost like their laughing at me. Did I mention that I'm screwed? I begin checking wrinkled shirt after wrinkled shirt, each one I grab from the floor seems to be worse than the last. Then I see it, draped over the light on my desk is a wrinkle free T, a beacon of hope, I lucked out. I grab the shirt and spin it around and I feel my heart sink. The front of this black t-shirt depicts a woman deep throating a banana with text below that reads..."got banana?" I throw the shirt in anger across the room and watch as it lands next to my hookah pipe. Realizing my interview is a bust at this point I decide on the why bother state of mind. Against my better judgment I pick up my pipe and continue where I left off last night. Mom is definitely going to kill me!
Puffing away, it dawns on me that I should have a new game in the mailbox today, Gods of Chaos 3. It has been the talk of the gaming community for the last eight months and today I will finally get to experience it myself. I rush down the stairs opening the door, sun light blinds, stopping me dead in my tracks, it's going to be a scorcher today for sure. Taking a step out the door I quickly realize I have no socks on as I feel the heat of the patio slab scoring the bottom of my feet. Looking down I see I never found a shirt either but what do I care? It's not a crime for a man to walk down to his mailbox sock less and shirtless...is it? I'll be damned if it is as I'm only moments away from holding Gods of Chaos 3 in my hands! The driveway is hot and each step singes the bottom of my feet a little more, but I remain focused reaching the mailbox, the excitement is killing me. As I throw the mail box open ready to rejoice... "DAMN IT!" No mail yet. I notice Mr. Fromm turn off his mower and begins heading my way, he couldn't have heard me curse over the mower? With my feet burning I step onto the grass and feel the pain immediately beginning to subside. When I look back up Mr. Fromm is here, he covered that distance incredibly fast for such a large man.
YOU ARE READING
The Kindred, Dark Lineage
WerewolfTaven, a seventeen year old boy whose world becomes turned upside down when a latent gene activates. He finds himself with the ability to see through fae glamours and identify other supernatural creatures for what they really are. The fae know that...