A Will At Work
I'm just this guy, you know?
To expand on that, I am also the following...
- A former ficly member who is 38 years old and is schizoaffective (depressive type)
- Into creating languages and fantasy worlds from scratch
- A listener of audiobooks & good tunes
- Always too hard on myself
Form #1054B, It was too early for form #1054B.
I took a sip of my coffee. It was black. Not because I took it that way, but because someone had taken the last of those little individual creamer cups. Also, nobody had refilled the sugar over the weekend either. I was unsure exactly whose job it was to keep both of those things in stock in the kitchenette, but I had long suspected it was some kind of elf or pixie. Probably an elf, just because I don't know if pixies can lift sugar bags that large. Unless it was an army of them, but then that doesn't seem terribly efficient when I single elf can do the same task alone.
At any rate, my coffee was black. Strike one, Monday. Strike one.
I felt the walls of my cubicle close in ever so slightly. I looked to my left and saw a red stapler. It was the color of adventure, I thought.
Why would I think that? I had never associated adventure with a color before.
The stapler whispered "Just go, man. Do it. Just go, man, go."
I didn't analyze the situation. I just went.
No prequels yet. Why not write one?
Comments (1 so far!)
Average reader rating 5.00/5
And so begins our greatest adventure!
- #1903 Posted 5 years ago
- 5 out of 5
Inspired by (prequel to):
I was sitting on a bench. It was cold. The weather, not the bench. Though because the bench was made…A Will Abroad
- Published 5 years ago.
- Story viewed 4 times and rated 1 times.
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