<font color="FFFFFF"><i>These are the days when we're dancing through the haze...</i></font> -- RD Present: Caf� Brio

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Tue, Nov 12 2024, 11:38pm PST [ Login ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 ]

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Date Posted: Mon, Feb 06 2006, 11:16pm PST
Author: Christian
Subject: These are the days when we're dancing through the haze...
In reply to: Anna 's message, "ashes,ashes. we all fall down." on Thu, Feb 02 2006, 7:20pm PST

The worst part about being a young freelance writer was that he had yet to come up with a great idea for his best-selling novel, and so was stuck pumping out article after article for newspapers and magazines. He had never really wanted to be a journalist, but it wasn't like he had produced a literary classic in high school to set him on the road to success for his entire career, and so was stuck doing what he could to pay the bills, and hoping that he would be bit by the inspiration bug before he hit thirty. Luckily enough, all he had to do for the next couple days were some revisions, so he made his way into the caf� with his messenger bag full only of printed off drafts and scrap paper - no laptop or another of that sort. He ordered his customary latt� and made small talk with the barista while she prepared his drink, and then wandered away from the counter slowly to find somewhere to sit. As he settled onto a chair nearby the reading girl, he set his bag on the table and then ran a hand through his shaggy dark hair - he needed a cut, but was waiting to get paid first. Money seemed to come and go in waves - sometimes he had enough to get by in luxury, other times he had his landlord banging on his door for the rent and had to spend a couple nights at Kaya's place until he could pay for the month. Sometimes he wondered why he hadn't just gone into dentistry, or construction, or law, or something...

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ashes, ashes. we all fall down. -- Anna, Tue, Feb 07 2006, 1:53pm PST