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chrono01

Austin TX

Member Since 2003

Followers 33 Following 44

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Tuesday Feb 18, 2003

Feb 18, 2003
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OK, this is a little experiment. Each night when I get home from work (or every other night or so) Im going to type for 10 minutes (maybe shorter, maybe longer), trying to tell some sort of coninuous narrative. As I type this, I have no idea what its going to be about. Its just something to do. I have to get out of this creators block, and I think this is a good way to do it. I think Ill start it off with something real, and then just make it up from here on out. Okay. Here we go.

The snow kept falling. For how long, he didnt know, there are no windows at his job... but knowing his luck, it probaly started snowing the minute he got inside the building that day, and hasnt stopped since. It kept falling as he brushed off his car...twice... It kept falling as he tried to get it out of the parking lot at 12:40 in the morning...it kept falling all the way home, through unplowed streets. It kept falling on his faithful car, which was stuggling...going no more than 25 miles per hour (only when the conditions allow...or when luck allows)...It kept falling as he wearily walked up the steps to the front door...water seeping into his boots (the ones that have the words waterproof! proudly emblazoned on the side)...a wet and weary chill holding itself over his bones. It fell as he put the key in the lock. It fell as he said And its only Monday.

It could have been just as cold inside as it was outside...but he didnt feel it. Just the fact that he was indoors, and alive, was a warm comfort. He hung up his jacket and 13 foot knitted scarf, and walked to the fridge. No notes. He walked back to the phone, sitting by his fathers computer. Nothing but the same 2 messages that have been blinking for the last 2 weeks.

He walked up the stairs, one part of him wanting to jump into bed, and pile on an extra blanket. But he knew that he would spend at least two more hours at the damned computer...staring into the monitor, The glowing phosphor iGod, while hoping that someday his e-prayers will be answered in the form of high speed internet access...He waited for the squeal and squelch of the dialing modem to cease its nightly cry. no new emails. No one on IM. on a whim, he checked out a site he hasnt visited in a long time. For the next hour, hell still not be able to make sence of what he saw there....

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