COMM: Does It Look Like I'm Rotting? by Almesiva-Moonshadow, literature
Literature
COMM: Does It Look Like I'm Rotting?
--- -"Silver, you got another visitor."- The prison guard taps the veneer of the transparent barrier that separated the corridor where the inmates took their calls from the entrance lobby adjoined to the entry foyer and the man he came to see appears in sight from the other side of the glass, orange jumpsuit and a leisurely walk in tow; wasn't easy acquiring visitation rights at his age. Teenager. Coming visit someone in jail unaccompanied. The outright refusal of the precinct cops out front to let him pass with an adult accompanying him. Luckily, being in possession of an ID helped somewhat, although with great difficulties, having been turned down several times before the police out front relented. Took a spectacular amount of lying too. A lot of truth too. Cobra simply said that he's coming to visit his grandfather and that his legal guardian was otherwise detained and couldn't accompany him. Which was in effect anything but a lie. Terry Silver was in fact his grandfather
Acquired Taste (Bob Velseb TFTGPMC) by MalachiteP, literature
Literature
Acquired Taste (Bob Velseb TFTGPMC)
“Ah Roberta, so nice to see you again!” Roberta waved happily to the kind old lady behind the counter, the other hand brushing some of her blonde curls out from her vision, was windy today! “Don’t act so surprised.” She shook her head good naturedly as she kicked the mud off her shoes. “How long has it been?” “Hmmm, let me think actually…” The quaint little eatery was well beloved in the small town, run by Mrs. Tabitha Hooper, known for its always fresh food, menu varying based on what was in season, except one.. No matter the season, she always had fresh, homemade meat patties available for visitors. With the cozy atmosphere and always cheery Hooper willing to lend an ear or just a cozy chair, it was no surprise the place had earned Roberta’s loyalty. Silly as it sounded, when the girl had nothing else, this quiet restaurant was always there. “Goodness!” Hooper’s clap of realization shook Roberta out of her reminiscing. “It’s been a year to the day! Why I remember how gloomy
I lived with my mother until I was eleven. She once told me that I was a planned child. Yet when I was twelve she told me she doesn't want me to live with her anymore because "she got her own life now". Now, if she would have been the jetsetting type, I might've understood. When you travel a lot a child can be a burden, limiting you in your personal fulfillment. But my mother spent her newly acquired own life on her butt on the couch, infront of the TV.
Why do you want a child when you get rid of it after twelve years? I have my speculations about this. She separated from my father when I was five, first we went from one hotel to another, aft