the colonel leaned back in his chair and peered along the length of his nose at the visitor. through the haze of cigar smoke that filled the makeshift office the colonel dimly recognized the nervous, quivering form that could only belong to that most hideous of traitors, Cornwall Monroe. with a sharp kick he spun his chair around and stared through the window, willing his nerves to steel themselves against the impulse to strangle the man.
i wish it were cool to write stories like that, but the shit is just lame. i guess my writing career is over before it began.
today is a big stupid joke. there's zero work to do but here i sit, headphones on, trying to drown out certain coworkers. tangie is yet again blathering witlessly about science fiction television programs. seeing as how she's 54 i thought her interest in the genre was cute for about six seconds, but the bitch isn't even dealing in star trek or anything remotely interesting. she's extolling the virtues of the ever-stale Babylon 5. who fucking talks about babylon 5 these days? jesus. as if the tiny room that we reside in needed to increase its air of lifeless desperation, my boss has decided that instead of the white noise christmas music that plays on the radio, we are to be given a respite. unfortunately this particular reprieve has manifested itself in Theme from Dynasty, played on repeat courtesy boss' Windows Media Player. thanks boss! the only shallow comfort i can take is in the all-too-infrequent laugh of Crystal, the twenty-four year old mother of twins Ashleigh and Drew, aged ten.
thats right, do the goddamb math.
crystal's laugh seems to indicate that crystal exists on a plane somewhere other than our own; a place where time moves as slowly as the last drops of blood draining from the exit wounds of a corpse. which, curiously enough, is the image provoked by crystal's maniacal, unending laugh. it's deep and sloooowww, the individual ha's that comprise her 'hahaha' are metronimically delayed to a sort of 'haaaa- haaaa- haaaaaaa- haaaaaaaa.' these laughs last almost a minute after even the stalest of jokes, and sometimes take as long to begin after the joke is told.
could i die here, in this chair?
oh, the phone rings!