Happy new year, guys! I hope you all had a lovely break. The award for last month's contest goes to mister Captain Sparrow. It was a disappointing outcome last month due to so few entries being put forward, but I'm sure you guys can rustle up some delicious prose this time round. ;D This month is a little different. Your entry this month must start with the line "I bit into the sandwich slowly." I'm looking out for rich description this month- though don't assume you have to describe the sandwich! Take it as you like. Deadline is the last day of the month. Haha, have fun.
Kind of...long, I suppose, but hey, I haven't written anything for fun in years. It was a nice break, I think I may do it more often. xD Spoiler Of Lettuce & Tomatoes I bit into the sandwich slowly. “…What did you put in this?†I asked. He grinned at me from across the table and took one of my hands in his. “I’ll let you guess – and no, there’s nothing you’d consider poison in there,†he said. I think my heart stopped when we made physical contact. “Great, no hospital trip,†I replied. He simply smiled. These little exchanges between us were becoming more common, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy them. Granted, we haven’t known each other very long, maybe only a few months, but I still owe him a lot. But I’m getting ahead of myself. I got kicked out of my home last year – right around the end of the summer. Parents were done with me. They said I was worthless, waste of space, failure in every aspect. So I left without a fight, with just the clothes on my back and my wallet. I left that life behind, far behind, and it was a few weeks later that he found me. Evidently I’d finally passed out from the lack of well…something, given that I barely slept or ate anything. He found me, out cold, on the road somewhere, and for whatever reason decided to bring me back to his house. Looking back, it’s very likely that I would have died that day had he not found me. When I came to, I had no idea where I was, only that I was inside. There was food – a sandwich – and water near where I lay; I consumed both without really thinking. It was then that I noticed him. He sat across from me, content just watching me. Then he spoke. “Feeling better?†I glanced him over, deciding that I could trust him, and almost scaring myself with how quickly I concluded that. “Yeah,†I said, my voice dry from disuse, “I think so. Um…thanks, I guess.†He grinned slightly. “I…hope you didn’t mind the food, it was really all I could make quickly since I didn’t know when you’d wake up.†I stared at him. It wasn’t something I usually did, but…I was curious. Warily, I asked, “Why did you help me? Why do you care who I am?†He gave me an odd look and replied, “Should it matter?†“Yeah, I’d say so, I don’t even know you and you decide to help me?†“Well…call it weird, but I felt that I needed to help you. Like some kind of force wouldn’t let me leave you there. Crazy, huh?†He was blushing slightly and was trying to brush it off. I felt my throat tighten. But it wasn’t from his words. ***** Several hours, a trip to the hospital, and a brief personal history later, I sat next to him on the couch I had awoken on. “You honestly can’t blame me, can you? How was I supposed to know you were allergic to lettuce and tomatoes?†I glowered at him. “I’m not blaming you, I’m just pissed at you.†“What? Why?†“…I dunno,†I said. And I was being honest, I really didn’t know why I was upset. Then he did something unexpected. “Look,†he sighed, “I really don’t know anything about you. But…given that you have nowhere to go and that you are directing your rage at me, I feel that I owe you something.†“What, are you gonna give me a head of lettuce for the road?†I said. He hesitated for a few moments. “Would you…like to stay with me for a while?†he asked, completely ignoring my remark. Again, I stared at him. It may have been at this point that I realized he was rather…nice looking. He continued, “I know we met just today, but face it, do you have anywhere to go?†I looked down and replied, “N-no, not really.†“Then…would you like to stay? You can have my bed, it’s not much better than the couch, bu-“ “The couch will be fine for me,†I said with a slight smile, cutting him off. He was cute, after all. And that was that. We shook hands, and I’ve been sleeping on that couch ever since. “Ever since†being four or five months. Though there was one occasion where I was so unnerved by a dream that he let me sleep in his bed. With him there, right next to me. And then there are other times where we’ll stay up into the early hours of the morning, just talking about things. It’s odd how just his presence comforts me. Recently we’ve been getting closer, and it’s…nice. After being told that I was a worthless failure for so many years, and believing it too, it really is incredible how just one person can completely turn that outlook around. He’ll tell me I’m crazy for doing or saying something, but then he’ll give me a quick hug. Then there are days where he’ll go out of the way and do something for me, and I do the same for him. What he does is not always a large scale thing; sometimes it’s a small little something. Which brings me to the sandwich. Trying to ignore the fact that he’s holding my hand from across the table, I can tell he put thought into making it – I can taste hints of bacon and cheese, two things that he quickly learned were my favorite foods. I swallow the bite I took. “There’s definitely bacon and cheese in there somewhere,†I said, and added, “I like this a lot.†He breathed a sigh of relief. “Good, good,†he said, smiling softly. After I had eaten a bit more, he moved so he was standing next to me. “What?†I asked, shooting him a playful glare. “I…I have something to tell you, something I’ve been meaning to for a while now,†he said, and I could see the start of a blush on his face. “Oh?†I took another bite of the sandwich. He took a deep breath. “…I love you.†I choked on the food in my mouth. ******It’s almost funny how this pattern in our lives keeps coming up. But I digress. Back from our second visit to the hospital, we were sitting on the couch again, as we were all those months ago. I was trying to stare a hole in the wall so I didn’t have to look at him. Between the embarrassment of choking and the shock of his words, I really didn’t know what else to do. He was sitting next to me, unsure of how to act as well. I decided to make the first move. “Guess what.†“You’re pissed at me?†I could almost hear the hurt in his voice. “Yes and no.†“Then why-“ “I’m pissed at you because of your timing, at this point in time you know I’m not a careful eater,†I said. He watched me incredulously. I then shifted so I was pressed against his side. He tensed. “But,†I continued, “I’m not pissed because of one simple thing.†“W-what’s that?†he asked, cautiously putting his arm around me. “Because I love you too,†was my reply. He was shocked for a moment, then drew me closer in a tight hug. We stayed like that for a while, cuddled on the couch, simply enjoying each others’ love and company. I’m not sure who went first, but before long I was asleep in his arms, and he in mine. It was a silent promise of a better future. Hopefully one with less of the hospital involved. …I never did finish that sandwich. Reason for the title is because I am deathly allergic to both of those things. Which I sort of got to incorporate into the story. Woo. I hope I'm not the only entry. >>
BEHOLD, UTTER NONSENSE. I don't write stories very often, heck, I could of just used a modified version of one of my RPs nobody bothers to read xD Spoiler Hired for Rebirth I bit into the sandwich slowly. Taking a look over the edge of the crust I could see the gaze of those in the inn watching me. I felt distressed slightly, I’ve never been one for being monitored. Other than that I could understand why they watched me eat my meal. After taking a few more bits, each one larger and quicker than the last, I had finished. Ever since I was young I’ve been told I was like an animal when eating. Using the back of my sleeve I cleaned my mouth and scanned every face in the room. I knew some of them. The bartender of course, the deputy of the guard, even the ranger in the corner smoking a pipe. As I stood up I lifted my partner with me and returned it to my back. The cold steel had eaten and now so have I. Menacingly, I stepped over the eternally sleeping thugs my partner shook hands with before. On my leave I noticed the ranger follow me, the deputy of the guard remained seated. Outside the inn my steed awaited. Gigantic like a beast yet as gentle as a flickering flame was my horse. Atashi was her name, it means dragon in the language the large dark skinned warrior who gave her too me spoke. When I lead myself out of town with my mount I noticed I was not alone. Suddenly, my stalker made themselves known with a flash of metal and wood. The arrow barely missed my face. By the time it had hit the ground I had was already deadlocked with my foe. Our blades scrapped together as each side pushed back against the other. This one was no thug. I didn’t need to look at the fancy sword to tell either. My assailant pulled away and swung at me over and over. I blocked with my bracer and partner. I realised this wasn’t a fight of murderous intent. I was being tested. A reason I later came to understand. **** Two weeks later. The encampment in the deepest part of this forest was all but empty. My now comrade had brought me to this place. Hired once again. This time it was a corrupted tree. Simple enough right? I thought so, they never mentioned it walked. **** The rhythmic speech of the tree sounded like the creaking of oak as well as the movement of wind. This was no corrupt spirit but a guardian of the forest we faced. My companion refused to attack, the employer who was among us was not too pleased, putting it lightly. The tree became violent, misunderstanding our quarrels and overhearing our now refused mark as a threat on it’s life. The tree swung for us, the Great Oak, they called it. Our employer was the only one not to avoid. His body was twisted and torn, I assume, he was flung metres away towards a rocked hill. I never saw his body later on, the wolves had at him while we dealt with the tree. Carefully, we hacked at the tree, making sure not to kill it but reduce it’s hostility. After calming the tree, it spoke to us once more in rhyme, “My twisted son, my time is done, a poet I retain. My broken soul will fill your bowl and drink yourself till slain”. Due to the tree’s sincerity it's gentle spirit was in pain. At it’s request from deciphering the poem I stabbed it’s trunk one last time with my partner. I collected the blood of the tree, the sap, and drank every drop. My companion had left, I assumed. Our contract was over. Leaving myself, my partner and Atashi behind. Although, that night, I knew why I was given the oak’s blood and where my companion had fled. I lay on the ground for rest under the night. I drifted away, hearing the laughter in the voice of my contracted companion. I felt the beat of the ground and lost my own in the grass. “The twisted one that I become, a poet I became. My stolen soul will fill the hole and give life to the tree again”.
I shall join with an absolutely ridiculous and horrible story. Please do not pay any sort of attention to it; this is more of a part of my experiment in certain narratives. Spoiler I bit into the sandwich slowly. Dear god, it tasted horrible. It didn't taste one bit like a sandwich. And then, I realized, I was in fact chewing on a large cinderblock. Why am I chewing on a cinderblock? I thought to myself as I chewed on the cinderblock. A sharp pang, a violent stab of energetic pain, shot itself through my mouth as I heard the crunching snaps of my teeth as they attempted, and failed, to break through the sandwich. “Goddangit”, I said to myself. “This is a bitch to eat. I don't think this even contains any vitamin D.” So then, I pumped out my fists like I was punching my co-workers on Effectual Raise Day and shot off to that dude who had the nerve to sell me this cinderblock. Nerves of steel, probably. I walked up to him and abruptly punched him in the face. A sharp pang, a violent stab of energetic pain, shot itself through my hand and into the mouth of the other guy. He fell to the floor, a look of disgust and wrenching pain on his face. Well, whatever was left of his face. Boy, if I didn't give him a concussion right then and there he is probably some sorta super man. Then, I started kicking him in the- “Hey, buddy,” asked the rather dapper man behind the counter, a slight look of annoyance upon his face. “Look, I'm here to sell you drinks, not hear about you kicking some guy in the nads.” “Wha? No. I kicked him in the face. You shoulda' seen the boot marks I left on him. I would've curb-stomped him right then and there if not for-” “Hey, hey, listen to me.” The man leaned over the counter, his oddly coarse and ragged old beard respirating with a bold sense of defiance. “Order your drink or I'll have to give you a sandwich.” The man with the hat and the large boots, the story-telling man, looked over his large nose and dirty grey moustache. “A sandwich, eh?” He asked with a sense of inquisitiveness hidden behind his rustic words. “What kinda' sandwich?” The bearded man smirked with a devilish grin. “A delicious sandwich.” The man with the boots shrugged. “Nah, I don't trust no sandwiches since that one incident with the guy I abruptly punched in the face. So, I was about to kick the guy in the head again when I realized I wanted my sandwich, goddangit. Do y'have my sandwich? I've been here for a good while now waiting for my sandwich. Goddangit, I want a sandwich. ” “But you just said-” “I said I wanted a sandwich. Where is my sandwich? Goddangit, I want a sandwich, now!” The man with the boots and moustache banged his meaty fist on the soft wooden counter. “Fine. Goddamn people whom cannot decide on what they wish to order.” The bearded man mumbled to himself as he retreated to the back. And then there was the wait. The horrible, enduring wait – a wait of desire and lust. This lust, of course, of the delicious tender and tasty concoction of the common sandwich. Cheese sandwiches the moustached man would think of. Ham sandwiches he would dream of. Bologna sandwiches he would imagine with in a lovely pink chapel, the bologna dressed in an elegant white wedding dress with a lovely collection of baubles and veiled silk. And the smell, oh the delicious smell. The various scents associated with a perfect sandwich. Gasoline oil, grease, and three-day-old mystery meat, preferably Spam. The man returned with an absolutely elegant brown paper bag, evident of re-use with grease stains scattered like spots on a haunting and angry celestial gas giant. With a smirk, the man handed the moustached, sandwich-loving, boot-wearing, abruptly-punching-in-the-face-ing man the bag. The bag was, indeed, insurmountably heavy. However, the moustached man simply thought of this sandwich as a repackaged Subway sub. He would not be fooled into eating this repackaged garbage, however, and as he walked out onto the cold sidewalk with the man wrenched in horrific pain bowling over himself repeatedly in the alleyway, he retrieved the sandwich from the aristocratic bag and took a large test bite out of it. And boy was that cinderblock delicious.
Well I know this goes against my policy since three people decided to enter this month already but **** it I already wrote it. TMBG get a tip of the hat and I get a wag of my finger. Bad me. Spoiler The Name of This Town on My Desktop I bit into the sandwich slowly; contemplative of myself and ever thoughtful of its composition. I was sitting in the middle of the theme park, where I happened to work as a manner of accountant, on a bench eating my home made meal thinking about who had been sitting on the bench before me. The seat had still been warm when I first sat down and by degrees I’d reached sensory and thermal equilibrium with it. I was in a sense a part of the bench, as was I part of everything in the park I looked out upon as my head turned giving the effect of an IMAX movie’s panning. I placed all of the money where it had to be to buy the benches, the girders, the stone, the brick, the rebar, the dozer time, all of it was arranged by yours truly. As a result I started to see the buildings and attractions with price tags over them as I walked around, even the ones from before my time I had long ago calculated the value of minus the deflation of traveling backwards through time, of course. It was hard to believe that only four years ago I’d been graduating from my state university and accepting the offer to work on the construction project that was the park around me. I’d for some reason, as I just mentioned, accepted the offer. It, at the time, seemed like a good gig: the pay was ridiculous for a student, who hadn’t even begun grad school and I would have the personal pleasure of bringing civilization to my home town. I was almost happy the old man they had working on this place before me keeled over and died of heatstroke. God rest the poor man’s soul. This was all at the time. I now realize that being a higher up accountant for all intents and purposes means that I never go anywhere. I live in the park’s offices, I eat in the park on my lunch break, I shop with the townies that I’d always disdained, by the way, and what’s more I never see a single new person for more than a day, oftentimes only a few seconds. So my way with numbers pretty much put me in the pickle that I was crunching on right now. Ironic? Please, irony is funny, this is just sad. I’m 26 years old and I’m wondering if the mayo in my sandwich is still good because the whole thing just tastes a bit funny. It could be the 96 degree weather, it could be anything, but I know that it all stems from the fact that I’m stuck here for life and I’m never going to find a girl that doesn’t either get all hot and bothered over my number crunching skills or just call me names both in front of and behind my back. Grim? Please, grim is when it looks like a storm, please Lord, Vishnu, Zeus and whatever wrathful deities lie beyond my horizons, strike me down now. “Break’s over kiddio.†Vernon, who stood before me with a particularly smug grin on his mug, was three lefts from nowhere Green Mountain State, USA. I hated him with a passion. “I’ve got,†I inspected my watch momentarily. “Three minutes left.†“Round that back down to zero Dr. Eggman. They’ve got an issue with some numbers and I seem to recall a certain little boy being great with them.†He said without once dropping the pretentious tone or the grin. On the contrary, the longer one allowed him to flap his lips, the more his undesirable characteristics waxed greater. “Can’t I just pretend you never passed me and that it’s not my problem until I get back?†I told him without the slightest attempt to hide my irritation. I knew he resented me for getting a better job than him by one position despite his higher level of education. He insists to this day that I was somehow the one who orchestrated the whole thing. I just got lucky that I lived here in nowhere Alabama and that the company valued my familiarity with the home field for some ungodly reason. “I’d support that. Just thought I’d waste what’s left of your lunch screwing with you.†He informed me without compunction. I was half ready to drop my sandwich and juice drink and strangle him to death. But this number I did round back to zero. “Thanks.†I said in the hopes that he’d go away now that he’d had his fun mocking me. But he wasn’t about to let this chance to make me feel ridiculous go by. Not because it was uncommon that he could so much as he could never give up any chance to make anyone look or feel like a fool. So he stood there, with his mocking grin and his mocking words, mocking me. “I see the vulture in your eyes and he’s looking for chicks to feast on.†He said mockingly as he always did. “You come from an even smaller town even farther from somewhere than I do and yet you always somehow find a way to get on my ass about wanting to go somewhere and start living. Can’t you understand at all where I’m coming from?†I tried on several occasions before this to appeal to his sense of humanity and as with all times before I was sorely disappointed in myself for trying. “This is the life. What could be better? My wallet full of St. Patrick’s Day bread and a hotel room full of prostitutes.†He laughed jovially and leaned down to hang his lanky arm over my stockier shoulder. For what I could tell, he was dead serious. “You’re a fucking capital fellow you know that?†I said with a quick shove to his shoulder that sent him on his way. “I aim to please.†As his footsteps began to fade into the general shuffle I heard it: the sound that would, probably, change my life. It was a bunch of indistinct chatter over the loudspeaker that I wouldn’t have found so indistinct had I been paying attention. All I knew was that it was calling a name. Someone had to go down to the information office near the front entrance to the park. The name that was called… it sounded female. That got me thinking, well, less thinking than running. “Vernon! Tell them I’ll be a little late when you get back.†I called to him as I dashed past the fellow. He probably wondered what I’d been injecting, smoking, or snorting recently, but he was nothing if not a reliable messenger of bad news. So I took off as fast as my office atrophied legs would carry me towards the information center near the front entrance to the park. I wasn’t entirely clear on my goal in finding this person who I presumed would be a girl or what I would do once I found her, but it’s safe to say that it didn’t matter because I never stuck to my plans anyways. As I overcame that initial thought block my head cleared and my running became my focus. Let me clear up any doubts you may have if you weren’t paying attention. I’m not athletic, coordinated, or able to move around as I want in the slightest. So I did feel quite the fool as I blundered past parents with their kids and the odd college student until I reached the empty home stretch. In the middle of the day almost like magic the corridor from where I stood near the kiddy land and the front entrance was cleared. I wasn’t sure if it was that fewer people came and left at this time or if everyone was just walking around elsewhere. Either way, this wasn’t the case today. There was a small crowd of people directly between me and the information center and that surely wouldn’t do. So I did what any rational person chasing down an unidentified person they’d never met would do. I edged by carefully. Carefully. Careful el why. And I made it by without a problem or even that much of a delay. If whoever I was looking for was in her right mind I’d beat her there. Unless of course she, I don’t know, happened to be closer to the office than me. As I approached the desk inside the sliding glass doors a saw a brown haired girl or rather woman walked out the doors past me. We almost collided in a semi-humorous slapstick manner before disentangling our trajectories and making peace with a series of awkward smiles and nondescript apologies. She was pretty cute. The height of irony would be that she was who I was looking for. Imagine that. I quickly discarded the thought though and hopped up to the desk before anyone else appeared to steal my place and asked the woman behind the desk who had been called for. I made up a little bullshit over how there was a mistake up at some other office, I flashed my ID badge and she pointed at the beautiful young woman who I’d just narrowly avoided bumping into. If you’ve seen that picture of that cartoon with his hand through his face in extreme face palm then you know what I wished I could do right then. I thanked the kindly woman manning the desk and ran like my life depended on it out the door. I looked around quickly, hoping against hope that I’d remember the back of the woman’s head in the small dispersing crowd that I’d just passed. Lo and behold I’ve found her; facing me as close to dead on as she could without actually looking at the loser in office threads with noticeable spots of sweat growing all over. “Hey!†I called out to her, soon realizing that it meant absolutely nothing among so many people that neither of us knew. So I ran again without taking my eyes off her for a second. Odd as it may sound, this is when the thoughts I’d been ignoring decided to start creeping back into my mind. I wanted to freeze up and stop dead where I was then walk back to my office and make up some bullshit about getting sick from bad mayo as an excuse, pretend none of this ever happened and live on like I had been for the last twenty six years of my life. But that’s what I couldn’t force myself to do. I’d been meek and shy and complacent long enough. If I wanted something to start for me, I’d have to start it. So I started it with a bang. The woman had already begun turning towards the entrance, exit in her case, by the time I could start running and the distance between the two of us couldn’t be spanned by a mortal man that hadn’t run for as long as I hadn’t. So I thought quickly. “Security!†I called out without thinking at all. If I wanted to catch up with her, it wouldn’t be me doing the catching. “That woman there, she stole my wallet!†It was the height of lame but it got their attention when I started frantically waving my ID badge at them. That got me everywhere that day. The long and short of it are here: She was caught and thrown into the security office for questioning, which I held off to talk to her first with a little more ID badge magic. So here I am staring dumbly at the girl that I knew I was supposed to meet somehow. She’s staring back at me awkwardly too. So here I go. “I’m so sorry.†She remains silent. “It’s all my fault for ruining your day and I don’t know how to make it up to you but let me at least explain myself and get you out of this mess I’ve got you into.†She nods. “I’ve pretty much spent my entire life not doing things because they were silly or stupid for some reason or another. Today I half heard your name over the loudspeaker and decided I’d meet you because it was one of the ridiculous things that I’d never have done before I guess. I met you and…well, I don’t actually know what I think is going on but it seems like I†fallen for you in my own weird loser way. I’ve got so much more incomprehensible nonsense I want to say but I think that I’ve put you through enough. I’ll have you on your way in five minutes. I hope you can forgive me for this.†I pause and walk towards the door but then stop. “If I may ask one thing of you though. What is the name I half heard over the loudspeaker?†She answers. “Ana Ng.â€
