DEAR READER
- Reads 4
- Votes 1
- Parts 1
MatureComplete Sat, Aug 21, 2021<5 mins
Dear Reader,
I do not like you. It is not my job to like you. It is my job to please you - they are not the same. It is a job self-imposed, one that's payment is all made up, one that's sometimes worth it and sometimes the metaphorical equivalent of sludging through mud.
I do not like you. You are a symbolic of the agenda I inforce onto myself and you are the motivation to continue. You like what I produce and I suppose I value that
I do not like you, dear Reader.
Chaos ensues. Chaos loves to ensue, it always does. It loves to wrap around the Reader, the Writer and everything in between and it likes to wriggle the brain and make itself a home.
Do not let chaos fool you - do not let me fool you
Life is not interesting to you because you are not the universe's Main Character.
Nothing I say here will have any weight unless you treat it like it does - and are my words not as light as a feather, Reader? I see a world filled with hate and war and I do not turn my cheek to the other side as much as shove my face into the first. One might condemn apathy and one will be right to - but I am too apathetic to care.
I do not like you. It is a fact that conditions you not to like me, either.
With disrespect and appreciation and every fick
All Rights Reserved
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(18+ EXPLICIT CONTENT) "Attract a lot of attention, huh beautiful?" His voice hit me like a wall, absurdly catching me off guard. It was deep, sensual, something any girl (or boy) could melt over. I was sort of speechless, yet trying my best to appear unafflicted. "Only the wrong ones." That was definitely drunken me talking, as I didn't usually have that much confidence. His lips twitched up into a smirk, expressing that he understood my comment. "Does that mean that I'm in that category?" My palms began to grow sweaty and my heart rate picked up, but otherwise my body remained relaxed, appearing completely fine. It similar to when you're on autopilot, completely withdrawn due to intoxication. "I suppose not," I crossed my arms, putting on this seductive persona just for him. This fueled his smirk, about to murmur another comment before I cut him off. "You'll have to show me, though." *** Amelia Hollis was a 23-year-old writer at one of the local publishing companies, assisting a very handsome man and writing articles left and right. Her and her best friend, Aviary, lived together in a cute little apartment off the central part of the city, yearning to create new memories and important moments. Amelia always lived for the moments, taking in every little detail and savoring it like it was her favorite meal. She was an optimist, hoping to change peoples lives with her dreams. James Vallette was a 34-year-old CEO, building his company from dirt with the help of his brother. He was a realist, not really having time to deal with dreams or even love. He knew this the night he laid eyes on Amelia. It was only casual; what harm could a one-night stand do? Oh yeah, he's her dad's boss.
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