Clean

As the evening winded down I went into the kitchen to pour me a nice cold drink of water. I noticed the refrigerator was half way open and water was leaking from it. I knew it could be no one else but Cindi. Cindi had a habit of leaving the refrigerator half way open, causing things to go bad, but never felt she was wrong. The last time she done this, I was out of town, and when I came back the milk and cheese had spoiled. There was $7 gone down the drain, of my money might I add. She didn't think it was a big deal and offered to buy me some more, but the principle is what mattered.

Hi, I’m Rob. I’m into balloon and body inflation. Just like you.

My wife’s name is Alyssa. She recently had four of her friends over for a girls night: Denise, Tina, Kelly and Sophie.

This is a story about people inflating like balloons. Becoming balloons.

This is my story.

The Boss had broken out of prison and the entire police force (including detective Mord aka Rubber Maid) was following up every lead that may lead to his recapture. Mord was just checking in early one morning when Clancy called out “call on line 2 Mord. It sounds like one of your stool pigeons.” “Thanks Clancy” detective Mord replies as she crosses to her desk to pick up the phone. As soon as Mord picks up the phone, a hurried voice jabbers out at her. “Mord, this is Stu, don’t talk, just listen. I may not have much time. I’m at Ace bottling.

The sound of a post-modern style clock ticking away on the wall above a sea of cubicles was only met by the click-clack of keys and the occasional cough. She gazes up; 4:01PM, the last hour of the day and it always felt like a week. A long, bored fill sigh passes her sweet red lips. It had been a day of one meeting after another and she was only there as an observer, a very bored observer. Soon that late afternoon feeling was starting to hit her hard; eye lids like sand bags and he focus almost completely gone.