Little House in the Apartments*
Posted: Wed Jan 23, 2019 8:45 pm
((Continued from: A Happy Afternoon))
As soon as Vincent reached his floor, he took out his wallet. This housed the key for his house that if without, he would have to moan and knock for no reason until his mom came home from work. He unlocked the door, sliding the key in and aligning it with all the right kicks and jiggles and finally opened the door.
Behold, the place was actually pretty well off in a shitty apartment place like this. His mom cleaned it up well, buying fabric from her friend's store and apolstering all the nice furniture. The walls were painted, something she could get away with because the owner of the buildings was an old friend of hers and he didn't mind. That and she was probably banging him anyways.
Vincent didn't care about adult things. Not yet. He was more concerned with how he was going to play his last few cards in his hand. he walked inside the house, shut the door and then dropped his book bag on the floor.
She found a good sized can of soda in the fridge and popped it open, slmost smelling the fizz as he dipped his face in to drink the first wave of taste.
"Man, so good," he mumbled happily. He looked at the living room and decided to take a nap. He was tired as hell as he had stayed up all night the night (and morning) before and didn't get the healthy amount of shut-eye.
Mom'll wake me up at dinner anyway. He plopped down on the couch, sipping more of his coke and closing his eyes hoping the caffiene wouldn't kick in until he was asleep.
((Continued in: Grade Eleven Blues...))
As soon as Vincent reached his floor, he took out his wallet. This housed the key for his house that if without, he would have to moan and knock for no reason until his mom came home from work. He unlocked the door, sliding the key in and aligning it with all the right kicks and jiggles and finally opened the door.
Behold, the place was actually pretty well off in a shitty apartment place like this. His mom cleaned it up well, buying fabric from her friend's store and apolstering all the nice furniture. The walls were painted, something she could get away with because the owner of the buildings was an old friend of hers and he didn't mind. That and she was probably banging him anyways.
Vincent didn't care about adult things. Not yet. He was more concerned with how he was going to play his last few cards in his hand. he walked inside the house, shut the door and then dropped his book bag on the floor.
She found a good sized can of soda in the fridge and popped it open, slmost smelling the fizz as he dipped his face in to drink the first wave of taste.
"Man, so good," he mumbled happily. He looked at the living room and decided to take a nap. He was tired as hell as he had stayed up all night the night (and morning) before and didn't get the healthy amount of shut-eye.
Mom'll wake me up at dinner anyway. He plopped down on the couch, sipping more of his coke and closing his eyes hoping the caffiene wouldn't kick in until he was asleep.
((Continued in: Grade Eleven Blues...))