Bruises on a plane - a.i
- Reads 1,774
- Votes 98
- Parts 21
Ongoing1h 30m
Last published Wed, Sep 16, 2015
We met in a place I did not expect myself to wander even if I had lived a million years.
Behind the bars. Somewhere in Australia. Somewhere in Sydney.
I mean, people do expect me to be the bad girl most of the times, but that's pretty dumb, because the truth is, and God knows: in the most common, the most sad and boring way, I'm an angel. I don't do things crazy. I don't live crazy.
And him, well he surely did not look like an angel at this specific moment. Slumped on the hard ground of the cell, slobber at the corner of his lips, eyes barely open but mouth wide, wide open.
He snored loud.
So I woke him up, and he sat up and said, "Nope, I'm not Ashton I swear!"
And then puked. On. My. Shoes.
Well, not Ashton. I think we might have a problem here.
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#431
irwin
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