Currently Listening To: The Menzingers: On The Impossible Past
"What the hell did I do wrong?", Gregory scribbled in his college ruled notebook. With much difficulty, Gregory sat up in his seat on the floor and reached for his glass of frothy IPA on the short table in front of him and took a healthy swig of the delicious micro-brew. As he set the glass down, Gregory wiped his brow which was crusted over with blood, scratched at his head, and tugged on his septum piercing, contemplating the events, which took place not two hours prior.
Last week, Gregory strolled into his favorite coffee shop, which he frequented everyday before work to grab a quick buzz. As he stood in the cue, Gregory noticed something quite different. It wasn't in the pastries, which were always fresh and lined up in the showcase ever so carefully, filling the small shop with a glorious essence. And it wasn't the smell of the coffee, hand-picked fair trade, freshly ground, and brewed to utter perfection. It was the help...
As Gregory drew near the register, he noticed the new girl working behind the counter, a lovely young lady with stunning features. Gregory was never taken aback with such delight. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this way toward a total stranger. His and her eyes meet and Gregory's heart became a flutter. This was an unusual feeling for him, since the last time he let a female get under his skin he ended up a puddle on the floor. He hated to feel so vulnerable. Although he knew absolutely nothing about the girl, he sensed something special.
(WORK IN PROGRESS, SORRY!!!)
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