She's such a booktease
Sure, I gots lots to say. Sure, I could complain about the most silliest things today. Instead, why not give the first paragraph of the manuscript I'm working on. Go nuts, say what you gotta say - y'all love it or hate it?
Basher
The reason I think neither of these two has a gun is because I think they would have pulled it out of their black trench coats by now, just a touch so I could have seen it. They have been following me since I left Hushpuppies after last call. It was only four blocks to the subway, but they walked right behind me the whole time. At each stoplight they’d stand there, right beside me, probably wanting me to turn to face them. Now they’re right behind me in same turnstile. As I turn and head for the platform I see the first one’s hand out of the corner of my eye as he passes the ticket. The cars are waiting with open doors, and they walk behind me until I stop in front of the third car from the front, waiting just until the whistle blows before I hop on. I sit directly facing the door, back upright, staring ahead, and put my black leather knapsack on my lap.
The two of them sit down in the corner to the right of where I am. I can see all of the first, and most of the second, by the angled reflection in the door window. My eyes are focused on the glass, not blinking, and barely moving. I can feel my chest rising and falling slowly, rhythmically. I’d guess they are either an old-looking 19, or a young 21. The first has pimples, I think. Both of them have quite a few piercings on their ears, nose and each has one labret. I bet they get infected a lot. Both have dyed black hair that match their jackets (the first has a big pot leaf on the lapel, the second has a pentagram, I think) and knee high leather Docs. There’s a chain on both their pants from the belt to the pocket. They almost could pass as twins, except the first is about a foot taller. He’s probably almost as tall as me.
Basher
The reason I think neither of these two has a gun is because I think they would have pulled it out of their black trench coats by now, just a touch so I could have seen it. They have been following me since I left Hushpuppies after last call. It was only four blocks to the subway, but they walked right behind me the whole time. At each stoplight they’d stand there, right beside me, probably wanting me to turn to face them. Now they’re right behind me in same turnstile. As I turn and head for the platform I see the first one’s hand out of the corner of my eye as he passes the ticket. The cars are waiting with open doors, and they walk behind me until I stop in front of the third car from the front, waiting just until the whistle blows before I hop on. I sit directly facing the door, back upright, staring ahead, and put my black leather knapsack on my lap.
The two of them sit down in the corner to the right of where I am. I can see all of the first, and most of the second, by the angled reflection in the door window. My eyes are focused on the glass, not blinking, and barely moving. I can feel my chest rising and falling slowly, rhythmically. I’d guess they are either an old-looking 19, or a young 21. The first has pimples, I think. Both of them have quite a few piercings on their ears, nose and each has one labret. I bet they get infected a lot. Both have dyed black hair that match their jackets (the first has a big pot leaf on the lapel, the second has a pentagram, I think) and knee high leather Docs. There’s a chain on both their pants from the belt to the pocket. They almost could pass as twins, except the first is about a foot taller. He’s probably almost as tall as me.
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