Lisa Jones wrote on Nov 20
th, 2021 at 10:01pm:
NorthOfNowhere is just another nobody of cyberspace who has wasted at least 15 years of his life posting incessantly under various ids across many forums because just like you he's unmotivated to face a real full time job.
Back at the caravan, she was plagued by doubt about her date that afternoon with the man she’d met at the village store the week before.
Now, what’s the next step, she pondered.
Sure, the dress she’d flogged from the clothesline at the fancy house in the village, and the pig’s blood she’d rubbed across her lips, worked well enough for a first date with him, but that was at the truck stop. Sooner more than later he'd ask questions.
Questions.
Questions, like, ‘When do I get to see the house with great views of the river’, or… what was it she’d told him? A house with views and a pool… or was it a jacuzzi… or both. In all her chatter, she’d plumb forgot.
She slumped back into the couch and pressed her fingers against her vagina.
Fortunately, the dog faeces had dried and hardened by the evening and had formed a paisley swirl that now matched older stains on the couch. No need to waste money on stain remover, she thought.
So many PMs to send tonight... It looked like it was shaping up to be another all-nighter; the Bullgarians hadn't got back to her on that libretto rewrite. What time zone were they in, she wondered.
Outside in the evening night, the moon rose, owls hooted, a dog barked while crickets chirped.