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I clicked on the banner ad and now I'm signing up for this? Even though I haven't written anything other than contracts and legal briefs since I was a teenager? Sign me the heck up.
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Oct 5, 2021 20:07
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| # ¿ May 10, 2024 12:11 |
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Can I get an extension on my assignment, prof? Dog ate my imagination.
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Oct 9, 2021 02:08
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The Bluff Again?, Jim thought. How many more times would they move that goddamn table? This had to be the fourth time this night, at least. He fished out his cellphone from under his pillow. I really need to stop doing that, it just wakes me up more. That was also the fourth time he’d had that thought. 3:30 AM, the screen read. Three loving thirty in the loving morning. What a ridiculous concept. As far as he was concerned, human beings should not even have words to describe the stretch of time between 12 and 8. It should only be referred to in abstract terms, like when physicists try to explain what happens within a black hole. How was it that they called that point where math broke down? The singularity, the words floated into his consciousness. There probably wasn’t any sound at the singularity, so as far as he was concerned that was a better place to be right now. Jim had read- well, not read. Heard about it in a podcast. Did that count? Were podcasts the new magazine articles? That vague place where you picked random factoids that you later repeated as fact to people, hoping that no one demanded to know your source. In any case, Jim had read slash heard about the possibility of microscopic black holes popping into existence randomly, a byproduct of the weirdness of quantum physics. Maybe one could form right now, approximately 9 feet above him. How long would it take for it to expand enough to swallow those speakers? Another thundering scrape drilled into his brain and jolted him back into reality. He had almost drifted to sleep that time. That loving does it. He was going up there. He’d been a good neighbor, he’d been patient, he’d been a good sport. And now he was going up. He’d explain to them that he’d been young too, once. When? Years ago. At some point in that indefinite period he had hosted his own parties, and when asked by his own neighbors to stop making noise he’d complied. You loving liar, what party? 8 nerds arguing about the Lost finale and drinking lovely beer? gently caress off. Mrs. Birch had asked them to keep it down after Dan had ranted at full volume about what a hack Lindelof was. That had been at 11pm, everyone was gone by 12. Jim stayed up till 2am, kept up by the sounds of Mrs. Birch’s tv, permanently tuned to Fox News at full volume. He had gone up to her door a bunch of times but really, what was the point? She was so old and hard of hearing she would probably not even hear his knocks, anyway. In any case, she had died eventually, and the sounds had stopped. Jesus Christ, does everyone at this party wear heels? Mentally, Jim tracked whoever this was all the way from the kitchen to the bathroom. He’d been up to August and Jerome’s apartment twice and had a hazy picture of it in his mind. The first time was when Fred had moved out. That loving rear end in a top hat. Random acts of nature destroying the apartment upstairs had also been a popular plot point in his late-night musings when Fred was living there. At least these two don’t snort a line of coke every weekend. In truth, Jim didn’t give a poo poo about the coke, it was the fact that Fred would blast EDM all night when he got high. Even if Jim had ever asked Fred to keep it down, he had his doubts Fred would have been able to even parse the request. Jim had started drafting, well, final revisions, really, his letter to the coop board when Fred had moved out. Whoever was in the bathroom flushed and images of piss rushing down the pipes that ran in the walls behind his bed burst into his head. With a sigh, Jim got out of bed. His cats were not happy about that. It was the fourth time he’d woken them up. Where are my loving jeans? He wasn’t about to go up there wearing his PJs. What would that even look like? Oh, hi, Jerome, yeah, I’m a cool dude just like you, I’m sure you’d be in your PJs right now if you weren’t having this party, no? Speaking of this party, any chance you guys can turn down the music a bit? And also, can you ask all your guests in heels to take them off? Also, have you given any thought to finally sticking those felt pads I gave you under the table and chairs? I can do it for you, it’s just a second. No, yeah, obviously we can do it tomorrow, but maybe ask your guests to lift the chairs when moving them? Oh, you guys are winding down any second now? That’s great. No, I can definitely be cool for a bit longer. Jim looked at his phone again. 4:30AM. They’re probably about done, anyway. If he went up there now, he’d just end up looking like an rear end in a top hat for what? Thirty extra minutes of sleep? He should have gone up two hours ago. Maybe if August ever read any of my loving texts, this wouldn’t need to happen. Maybe August would answer tomorrow, like she did last time. “sorry!!!!! i never look at my phone 🤦♀️ next time just come up and let us know!! won’t happen again! 😬”
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Oct 9, 2021 03:55
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https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1l7ocJMzs9UBh8dcxA5Mf4E9LlbGrP8xu?usp=sharing Made a shared Google folder if people want to post their correctly formatted stories there, it's too much of a pain in the rear end as a forums post, imo.
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Oct 9, 2021 04:30
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