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Old June 18th, 2005, 03:48 PM  
kolte
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Name: Matt
Join Date: May 31, 2005
Location: usa
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Default Its the start of a book I'm doing. What do you think of it?

*Fred*

Fred sat on his puffy couch and stared, dumbly, at his television screen. He yawned and glanced at the remote. Nothing on, he thought, grabbing the control and flipping broadly through the channels, he sighed, pressing the power button and lifting his plumb body off the sofa, pulling it though his tiny apartment and into his messy kitchen.
Fred rummaged through his cabinets in search for a midnight snack. He found nothing of interest, cream of corn, bag of old potato chips, smelly fruit of some kind, bottled water. He shut the cabinet. His beady eyes moving around the disheveled room in a quest to find food, he found none.
He trudged haphazardly into his bedroom, if that’s what you called it, and over to a small bedside table. He forced a door open and removed a small bowl filled with assorted items and knickknacks. He retrieved a long chain upon which were car keys. He grabbed them and moved towards the door.
He stepped out onto freshly cut grass, a sidewalk was in an apparent need, however, the landlord thought the cost too much. A small, unkempt car was parked halfway onto the road, halfway on the grass. Fred stepped over to it and opened the unlocked door.
He sat himself inside and fumbled the keys into the ignition. It started. He kicked it into reverse and pulled out onto the road behind him. There was a loud screeching noise as a car in the distance tried to stop, too late. A loud, forceful crash emitted from the back of Fred s car. He was spun around, his neck twisted, his absent seatbelt causing his forehead to slam into his steering wheel.
The car that collided into him flipped off to the right jumping the curb and slamming into the side of his apartment. The contents of his house burst forth onto the pavement, the abused television, the remote, the sofa, the cabinets and food, bedside table, all the things that Fred hated, loved. His crummy life was now sprawled onto the ground for all eyes to see.

*Arial*

An alarm sounded in the distance and Arial struggled in and out of focus. Her eyes shot open and she hurriedly lifted her hand and slammed it down, hard, onto her clock. 5:00 am. Joy, she muttered rolling over, shutting her eyes but not going back to sleep. She lay for about 10 minutes before she reluctantly sat up and hoped off her bed.
She made her way down the hallway and took a right into a small, yet clean, bathroom. She shut the door. Damn, she cursed twisting the water faucet in the bath tub, no water came. She must have forgotten to pay the bill. 67 dollars, that’s the city for you. No matter how shitty your apartment is, bills are still higher then ever.
Arial sat dismally in her arm chair, tying her shoes. If she were to make it to work on time, she needed to leave soon. She got up, walked over to her door, opened it, stepped out into a plain hallway and strutted off towards an elevator.
Arial stood in front of the elevator door. She punched the small white button, marked with an arrow pointing down, with a slight hint of aggravation. A faint ding sounded in the distance as the elevator made its way to her level. The doors popped open; an elderly old woman paced out into the hallway and disappeared around a corner. Arial stepped in and pressed the “ground floor” key. The doors shut, the elevator made its slow dissent to the bottom.
Randomly, and quite unexpected the elevator came to a sudden halt, a loud screeching noise sounded, the emergency lights flickered on and the original ones went off. Arial looked around, taking in her unknown environment. Her hand instinctively rose and pushed the open/close button, nothing. Ugh, she grunted digging in her purse, removing her cell phone. She repeatedly punched in numbers with the same result, none came.
She stowed the phone back into her purse and looked around. Panic filled her thoughts as time moved on. Beady little drops of sweat began to drop from her head. She let her back hit the metallic wall behind her and slide down till her bottom hit the floor. She buried her face in her hands and tried not to worry. Someone will let me out, she decided, though not really convincing herself of the matter.

*Thomas*
Thomas sat on a grubby, dusty, bar stool, taking a sip of his whisky, staring sadly into space, completely lost in the moment. His amber eyes lost in a world that only he knew of and visited.
He brought the whisky glass back up to his mouth and let the crisp liquid slide down his throat. He glanced down at the bar. At the side of the bar was a dingy cigarette package; only a few cigarettes remained.
Thomas grabbed the pack up and pulled a single dirty cigarette. He lit it and took a long drag, allowing the mellow yellow tobacco pull into his lungs. He exhaled, closing his eyes, enjoying the agony that he loved so much.
The bar-keep walked up to Thomas, looked curiously into his eyes, and cleared his throat. “I think you’ve had too much Tom, I’ll call a cab”,
Thomas peered groggily up at the bar-keep and blinked. “I’m fine”, he slurred, his head wobbling bit in his inebriation. The bar-keep raised his eyebrows.
“Tom, I said you’ve had enough. I wont call a cab if your not gonna use it, but I don’t think you should stay here”
Thomas glared up at the insulting man. He stood up shakily and stumbled over the entrance. One hand on the door the other fumbling his cigarette package into his jacket, Tom made his way out into the parking lot, he looked around, searching for his car.
He spotted the car at the left side the lot and trudged over to it. He scrambled for his car keys, removed them, and opened the car door. Thomas sat himself inside and shut the door, ramming the car keys into the ignition; it started.
Tom pulled out of the parking lot, narrowly missing the gate, and onto the road. The car accelerated quickly, reaching 70 kilometers per hour. A flashing light of blue and red suddenly appeared followed by a loud siren.
Tom glanced into his review mirror. Shit, he swore, pulling the wheel to the right, and softly pushing the brake with is foot. The car slowed to a halt on the side of the road. The police car pulled over to the front side of Tom’s car. Good job, thought Thomas.
*Sydney*

A slight breeze swept through Sydney’s brown hair, her golden skin and light blue eyes stood vivid in the sunny sky. She stood on a dock overlooking the peer; the waves splashed up on the bank, small sprinkles played on her face. She turned around and walked away, hopping off the dock and onto the black pavement.
Sydney made her way to a bicycle and mounted herself upon it. She pushed down hard, and slowly made her way down the street, glancing in curiosity at the many shops and trinket stands along the way. She came to a stop, lifted herself off the bike and pushed it to a bike rack. Sydney pulled out a bike lock and latched the bike to the rack.
The building she stopped at was large and had many beautiful architectural structures. The entrance was a large, deeply stained, oak door. Sydney pushed it open and stepped inside. Among the many shelves that filled the grand entrance, lay thousands of books, old, new, leather bound, paperback. A large sign jutted out of the wall. It read “Theodore J. Roselyn Library” in big bold, golden letters.
Sydney strutted in through the library until she reached the back. She then flipped through the shelves, searching. The books in front of her were of medical nature.......

Thats all I'm gonna write, just in case you all decide that you wrote it ^^. I just wounder what you all think of it, anything you would do different.


""The New Law of Righteousness," that there "shall be no buying or selling, no fairs nor markets, but the whole earth shall be a common treasury for every man," and "there shall be none Lord over others, but every one shall be a Lord of himself.""
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