Day 60: Screw You

So, instead of hitting publish in my vaguely drunken state last night, I managed to hit save and then close my laptop. Apparently my computer took the title to heart. Let’s try again, shall we?

‘Screw you!’ Harley screamed, hurling the towel at me. She’d been screaming for the last three hours. Non-stop. Personally, I was mostly impressed. I think she only stopped to draw breath twice. I’ve only heard a string of insults like that from my drill sergeant.

That man was six foot six, about as wide as he was tall and it was all muscle. He’d been hitting the gym like a punchbag since he was fourteen years old. He also had a face as if he’d been the punching bag since the same age.

Harley was none of those things. Just scratching at five foot if she stood up on tiptoes. Slim, so far into beautiful that pretty seems like an insult and yet blessed with the ability to turn the air cerulean.

I’d started mentally inserting bleeps at the start. Then it was longer bleeps. Now I just had an ongoing tone.

A general cessation of motion indicated, finally, that Harley had finished.

‘Harls, you realise I had nothing to do with snapping your Call of Duty disc?’ I had a little bit. But shhh.’

‘You mean I just wasted three hours of my life’ Bleep. Bleep. Bleepity Bleep.’And you could have…’ Bleep. Bleeep. Bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee…

Yeah, that’s what I thought.


The Idiot In Tin Foil


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