I Freaking Love October! Also, Story!
Just so everyone knows, I really do love October. My birthday being in said month is only a small, tiny influence on that. October is all about getting out and DOING autumnal things. Like pumpkin patches and haunted houses. Leaves and trick-or-treating. All-Hallows-Read. There’ so much, and Arizona looks like it’s in the middle of freaking summer still. I recently took a poll on the NatGeo insider page, asking me to check the things I love about autumn, and I checked everything that doesn’t apply to this horrible state. *Sigh*
Anyway, today is story day. So, FACE!
I awoke to a dark room, filled with the thumping of techno, and the aching of my ribs. And my head, my tongue, and all my other assorted parts. Dizzily, I slowly sat up and promptly threw up in the corner of the room. I immediately regretted that, because I was a sympathetic puker and there were no windows, and only one door. The door, by the way, was locked from the outside and a two way mirror. I could see out, but no one could see me. I know, I waved at several people dancing and drinking just ten feet from me.
At that point, I looked around my prison chamber. It was an office. A sleazy one, with silky shag carpeting, and vomit puddle in the corner. I was only responsible for half of that. And, honestly, I was more sickened by the carpeting. I was again overcome with the blasphemous feeling, and realized that this room was, in fact, a priest’s quarters. There were murals on the wall, depicting several sins, and not a one of them actually looked any fun.
I rummaged through the drawers to find something to drink, to no success. I managed to pocket some pens and a letter opener though. I ran through the items I had in my pockets when I left, and was actually a bit pissed off when I discovered every had been taken from me. A man’s pockets are sacred. And private. I had paint sharpies, and a Spyderco, my wallet, and phone in there. Thinking these thoughts, I finally came to the full realization that I was being kidnapped, by someone who drugged me. There are horror stories that begin like this. Lots of them. I needed to get out, and fast.
This is about as far as I’m getting today. I’ve got tons of other things I need to start on, sorry guys.