Mad libs! XD
Joshua sipped sadly at the coffee, anguishing again about Ashley and his death. Joshua stared out the window, where leaves fell in false clouds. The storm seemed to agree with him, and Joshua sighed, waving a waitress over.
“Joshua?” she questioned, picking up his now-empty cup of coffee. “You seem to be coming here more often lately.” She tilted her head. “Is something the matter? You’re usually so paranoid about getting wired....”
“Heads or tails,” he muttered weepily, leaning forward to hold his head in his hand. “It’s nothing you can help.”
The waitress apparently took slight offense from this. “You know, you haven’t been yourself lately....”
“Am I supposed to be?!” Joshua growled suddenly, waving his arms around in a desperate gesture. “They stabbed him! stabbed him! And he was taken away before...” – his throat cracked, and Joshua swallowed, catching himself and stabilizing his voice – “before I even made love to....”
Joshua glanced around the uneasily, and noticed that everyone who was not wired was staring at him, possibly plotting to maim him. Joshua slumped down back into his usual manner again, back to sitting weepily and waiting for the waitress to hurry up and get his second order of coffee.
The waitress shook her head, walking towards the counter, picking up another cup of coffee and walking back over to hand it to him. Joshua immediately took it and took a large gulp, ignoring the fact that he was starting to get wired. He set it down harshly, and bits of the coffee splashed onto the table.
The waitress glared at him. “My job is not to clean up after all your messes,” she grumbled, taking the cup of coffee and lifting it, wiping the counter underneath with a damp towel. Joshua paid no attention, already too lost in his wiredness to notice. He remembered a song from his childhood – “Even if it may seem sadly/ I stare out into the storm and find/ That the leaves has no meaning in my life/ And that Great Dragon will find a way/ For there to be clouds in sleet.”
Joshua continued to stare distantly out the window, wondering inanely if there would truly be clouds in sleet, or if that sleet of his was empty, devoid of any light, devoid of all clouds.
The waitress set the cup down and left huffily, and Joshua glanced at the dampness on the counter, watching the water evaporate slowly, leaving in an almost evanescent manner, until the counter was dry again.
Forbidden love? his angsty mind asked him. How quickly it’s taken away... almost as if it was wiped away, the last of it misting into the air. I only wish it would take this sleet along with it.
And because I'm weird, I made this one a femslash. XD
Ayra sipped tired at the wine, angsting again about Edin and her marriage. Ayra stared out the window, where raindrops fell in false breeze. The fog seemed to agree with her, and Ayra sighed, waving a waitress over.
“Ayra?” she questioned, picking up her now-empty cup of wine. “You seem to be coming here more often lately.” She tilted her head. “Is something the matter? You’re usually so paranoid about getting tipsy....”
“I'll cut you down,” she muttered sadly, leaning forward to hold her head in her hand. “It’s nothing you can help.”
The waitress apparently took slight offense from this. “You know, you haven’t been yourself lately....”
“Am I supposed to be?!” Ayra growled suddenly, waving her arms around in a desperate gesture. “They destiny'd her! Destiny'd her! And she was taken away before...” – her throat cracked, and Ayra swallowed, catching herself and stabilizing her voice – “before I even kissed....”
Ayra glanced around the tavern uneasily, and noticed that everyone who was not tipsy was staring at her, possibly plotting to maim her. Ayra slumped down back into her usual manner again, back to sitting sadly and waiting for the waitress to hurry up and get her second order of wine.
The waitress shook her head, walking towards the counter, picking up another cup of wine and walking back over to hand it to her. Ayra immediately took it and took a large gulp, ignoring the fact that she was starting to get tipsy. She set it down harshly, and bits of the wine splashed onto the table.
The waitress glared at her. “My job is not to clean up after all your messes,” she grumbled, taking the cup of wine and lifting it, wiping the counter underneath with a damp towel. Ayra paid no attention, already too lost in her tipsyness to notice. She remembered a song from her childhood – “Even if it may seem tired/ I stare out into the fog and find/ That the raindrops has no meaning in my life/ And that Odo will find a way/ For there to be breeze in thunderstorm.”
Ayra continued to stare distantly out the window, wondering inanely if there would truly be breeze in thunderstorm, or if that thunderstorm of her was empty, devoid of any light, devoid of all breeze.
The waitress set the cup down and left huffily, and Ayra glanced at the dampness on the counter, watching the water evaporate slowly, leaving in an almost evanescent manner, until the counter was dry again.
Forbidden love? her lonely mind asked her. How quickly it’s taken away... almost as if it was wiped away, the last of it misting into the air. I only wish it would take this thunderstorm along with it.