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Showing posts from August, 2007

A Picture's Worth A Thousand©

A Picture’s Worth A Thousand…© Copyright©2007,2008

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No story on this site can be republished in part or whole without written consent of author.
Damn I was nervous, I never usually sweated but today I had sweaty palms and butterflies fluttering in my stomach. As the train speeded through the dark underground, when I arrived at the station. I quickly grabbed my bag and headed out into the hustle and bustle of New York City.

I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out the sheet of paper on which I had written down the studio’s information. I quickly read over it and hailed a taxi. This was my first time ever leaving the calm and collected serene countryside of Oklahoma. And damn if it wasn’t a change. I told the taxi driver where I wanted to go, he gave me a crazy look in the rearview mirror, what it meant I didn’t know.

When I arrived in front of his studio. I took a deep breath, paid the taxi driver and went up and I looked for his name on the list of building occupants…

How Things Change©

How Things Change©

“Yo Mike I need a favor?” “Yeah man. What you need??” “Gina is flying out to Atlanta and she needs somebody to pick her up from the airport and take her to the hotel. S doesn’t know anybody in Atlanta except you. So can you do that for me?” “Yeah sure Geno. When is she coming in?” I grabbed a pen and a piece of paper, “Tomorrow. Two-Thirty. Her cell number is 484-658-6352. And I’ll give her your number. And thanks Mike.” “No problem, man. But I got to get back to work.”

I hung up with Mike and turned my attention back to my computer screen. I had a proposal that was due Monday and I wanted to be done with it by today so my weekend would be clear. I thought back to my childhood; Geno and I were best friends then there was his sister Gina. Gina was about four years younger than us but she always wanted to hang. She was a tomboy. She could fight like a boy, play football with the boys, and act like a boy with the body to match. I hadn’t seen her in about seven years s…

Unfinished Business©

Unfinished Business © Copyright©2007,2008

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No story on this site can be republished in part or whole without written consent of author.


Damn this has been one of the most boring days, I’ve had since I came to work at U.S. Bank four years ago, I’ve been working here ever since I’d graduated college. I usually enjoyed my job, but everyone that worked in the offices along with me was out with the flu, it had been terrible this year. I had just come back from being home sick myself a couple of days ago. I sat at my desk reading over some e-mails, and checking my bank account online. I looked good as usual; it was lovely, being single, sexy free. Or at least that’s what I tell myself.

Right before Thanksgiving over four months ago, my boyfriend of two years, Ian and I called it quits, because we realized we wanted two different things out of life. I’d given him all of me, then some. But fuck it, two tears in a bucket. I leaned back at my chair and stared out at the Charlotte…

Beautiful Music©

Beautiful Music ©

“So what are you saying then, you’re not fucking her?!?!” Chauncey tried to grab my hands as I reached to slap him. But it was too late my hand had already connected with his face. “Angela, why we got to go through this? I love you. I’m not fucking Jane nor is Jane fucking me.” “Chauncey, whatever I trusted you but fine if you want to be with the bitch then be with the bitch.” I felt the warm tears running down my face as I sat on the edge of the bed.
 
I had fallen in love with Chauncey due to his creativity he was a musician I was a singer. We made beautiful music together in the studio and in the bedroom. I was sixteen when we met he was seventeen. I thought I had found a kindred spirit in him. Now I’m nineteen he had become a big time record producer seemingly overnight and over the last few months our relationship had turned sour. It went from us staying up all night writing songs and collaborating to us not talking for days and exchanging evil glares. 

“Chaunce…