The Twins that Want to Cook

The Children That Want to Cook

I've seen crazy things as a reporter, but nothing will even come close to this.
June first, a day I thought would be a breeze as smooth and rich as the summer air. I remember it like any other day, really, well, starting off that is. I yanked my camera bag onto my right shoulder and walked to the city bus stop. The air turned bitter, though, unlike the warm and inviting sunrise on the horizon. I remember being entranced by the milky clouds combined with pastel yellows and pinks and blood oranges, and the blue sky blending into the scene perfectly, seamlessly.
I arrived at my desk at work and saw stacks and stacks of papers and whatever else that was waiting for me to fondle it. Chuckling, I knew damn well I wasn't going to do any of it. I sauntered to the lounge and started being some coffee. There strong stuff. This overtime was needed, as much as I wanted to sleep in, bills don't give two shits if you're tired and still in college.