Weird Game #1

Weird games. They’re weird right? Not hard to assume considering it’s in the name. Unfortunately my mind is capable of coming up with such oddities. Furthermore, my mind insists on me being an active player of these games. Here is the first… of many.

You want to know why I walk quickly? The first reason is I have longer-than-average legs. The second is that I’ve spent some time in London where at any given time most people will be in a rush, especially in tube stations. But the number one reason is this weird mental game I play.

At each street crossing I imagine that once I step foot on the tarmac, two cars, from both directions, are trying to make a Joe-meets-tarmac pancake. Stepping back is not an option as the path behind me has fallen away into oblivion. The only way forward is… well, forward. However, my legs are in iron braces, so I cannot run. What to do now? Walk baby! Walk like the wind!

It’s quite a comical sight. My mind doesn’t even have the decency to only suggest it at night. It brings such thoughts up in brought daylight. It won’t even be a suggestion! It has simply become an order my body follows at every street crossing. It wouldn’t be a weird game without awkward consequences now would it?

You’ll see me gliding across the street as I walk. If Google says walking to said destination should take me an hour, I’ll get there in two-thirds that. Why? All to avoid the awkward gawking directed towards someone who will walk like a normal person before the intersection only to act like a man on fire after it.

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A Bit Odd? Yes! (Dry Cleaning)

I watch the washing machine do it’s work.

That’s my entertainment.

The sounds and vibrations they sooth me.

They are a heartbeat – after a thousand Redbulls!

Thump thump. Thump Thump! THUMP THUMP!

The clothes pick up pace! Swirling in dirt and waste…

Then – soapy bubbles!

“Bloop bloop!”

I didn’t make that sound.

Not out loud… did I?

Of course I did!

So I walk away from the other fella in the room.

Dry clean washing is over.

PS The clothes get wet; why is it even called dry cleaning? It better not be a dry joke.

That First Kiss

They stare deep into each other’s eyes.

Then they lean forward.

Their lips meet. It is bliss!

“AC-CHOO!”

Oh no! She sneezed.

Her cheeks flush a deep red.

“Eeew! Gross!”

That’s his response.

She almost cries.

Almost. 

But it’s ok.

He has a smile on his face.

Relief. Then joy.

She’s found the one for her.

They go again.