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Mini Me Mod


jinyu
Age. 37
Gender. Female
Ethnicity.
Location Denver, CO
School. Other
» More info.
Sprocket's Training Milestones
Came home (Aug 2, 2014)
Asked to go outside (Aug 5, 2014)
Slept 4 hours straight (night) (Aug 5-6, 2014)
Crane Count
7/3/13 - 8
7/4/13 - 30
7/5/13 - 36
7/10/13 - 54
7/11/13 - 57
7/18/13 - 67
2/17/14 - 83
(cumulative)
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Moon Mod!
CURRENT MOON
To Read:
- Carrie
- Dream of the Red Chamber
- Time to Kill
- Scent of the Missing
- Stiff
Nano mod!
Freewrite 3 - Beyond Nick
Saturday. 9.15.07 2:37 am
Well, yeah. I was writing something great a moment ago... but it was deleted by fault of browser error.... BLAH!!!

:Edit: I have conquered evil! Technically this is my second draft, too, so hopefully it's better... hopefully XD.

Let us branch out, shall we? Introducing Michelle.

----

Nick flicked open his phone, “Yo, Nick here.”

“Hey, what’re you up to?” the familiar voice of Michelle played over the phone. She was a friend of his from high school. They dated for a while, but they both decided that they preferred just hanging out. Since she’d gone to college, though, Nick hadn’t seen an offal lot of her. Even when Nick ended up going to the same one.

“Uh, hey… Are you drunk?”

“I’m working on it, if I could ever get anybody down here,” she waved frantically at the bartender. He sauntered over loathingly, “Hey, can I get a martini please?”

He gave her a withering look before returning back down the bar.

“Hey, you still there?” She asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Nick replied. Elias walked into the apartment.

“Hey, who’s on the phone?” he asked.

Nick covered the receiver, “It’s Michelle, I think she’s drunk dialing.”

“I am NOT drunk dialing. Jesus, Nick, you have no sense of… Oooo.”

The door had just finished shutting behind him: tall and blonde, he seemed something between an apparition and an exotic reality as he slipped his hands in his designer blue jeans.

“Hey, can I call you back?” she asked, “I just saw someone.”

“Someone you know?” Nick asked.

“I’d like to,” she whispered, “Look, I’ll call you about it tomorrow. I have so much to talk to you about.”

“Uh-yeah,” Nick replied, but she had already shoved the phone in her purse and set about readjusting her shirt and her bra. She ran her fingers through her dirty blonde curls in just enough time to try and look like she wasn’t looking at him. The guy came over to the edge of the bar and put his hand on the bar.

He looked to her as he said, “Hi, is this seat taken.”

“No!” she replied a little too quickly. The mistake made her flush, but he gave her such a wide dimpled face that her anxiety melted away.

They sat there silently for a moment. She kept on slipping glances at him over her shoulder, but she couldn’t tell if he was doing the same. She giggled at herself and sighed. She searched hopeless for the bartender. He face flushed as she sensed his face close to her ear.

”So, does a pretty girl like you have a name?”

”Michelle,” she greeted, holding out her lotion laden hand. It was rose scent.

”Cicero, good to meet you Michelle,” Cicero took her hand and gave it a light kiss.

The bartender dropped of the martini and look over at Cicero expectantly. He shook his head.

”Nothing for me,” Cicero dismissed, “But I’ll pay for that, if you don’t mind?”

Michelle blushed, “No, not at all.”

The bartender rolled his eyes as he walked away.

“So Cicero, like the philosopher?”

“Yeah,” Cicero replied, surprised, “a lot of people don’t know that. Are you a philosopher, yourself?”

“No… studying zoology… Really? People, don’t know Cicero?”

Cicero shrugged, “Ah, it’s alright. Cicero is kind of a dry guy anyway. It’s not always something I want to live up to.”

“’Every man can tell how many goats or sheep he possesses, but not how many friends.’” Michelle quoted, nodding.

“Did Cicero say that?” Cicero asked.

“I don’t know, but I like it,” she replied, “So why do they call you Cicero.”

“It’s my real name,” she giggled. “No, I’m serious! He was my father’s favorite philosopher.”

“Oh, okay,” she said, “I like it, I just haven’t ever heard of anyone called that before.”

They continued to talk, the din of the bar making it hard for them to hear. A number of facts had to be repeated.

“No, just one dog!” she shouted, “She’s a peek-a-poo.”
“What’s that?!”

“Like…. a pekinese and a poodle?” she said, gesturing with her hands, hoping that it would come across.

She continued to drink and he continued to pay for them. He never drank himself.

“Come on! You have to at least have something,” she complained, “otherwise I’ll be the only one of who’s completely wasted.”

He laughed, “then don’t get wasted!”

“No, seriously, have something,” she said shoving her drink towards him.

He shook his head gravely, “Nah, I have a stomach condition. Not that I don’t like… whatever that it.”

She laughed, “I don’t even know what this is.”

She nearly toppled over the back of her chair as she threw her arms out. He reached out and caught her, steadying her. She couldn’t help but turn completely red, though she tried to hide her face as best she could. He held her for a moment, smiling at her and then lifted her off of the chair.

“Why don’t we get out of here? It’s so noisy in here,” he chuckled.

She nodded and followed him out the side-door.

-----

The plot thickens. Who is Cicero? What was he doing with Michelle that night? And how ironic that she called Nick? These questions and more in the next installment.

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