I turned the key and opened the door to my apartment building. My combat boot were thrown under the coat rack were my biker jacket hung.
I tossed my purse onto the kitchen table. I slip of paper I didn't remember having been there fell out.
I walked over to table and picked up the paper. On it was scribbled a series of numbers. A phone number, I realized. But whose?
Well, there was only one way to find out. I pulled my cell out of my pocket and dialed the number.
After two rings, I heard the click of the phone. "Hello?" someone said in a Danish accent.
"Hans?" I asked. "I mean, Mr....uh, how did you pronounce your last name again?"
"Just call me Hans, Miss Kandinsky," he said.
"Alright. Just call me Sylvia, then."
"Of course. I would be a shame not to use such a beautiful name."
"You're flirting," I accused.
"I am," he admitted. "You are quite pretty, though, so you really can't blame me."
My face flushed. Pretty? Whoa. I'm not pretty. I have super fair skin that turns red easily, white-blond hair, and grayish blue eyes. I'm a little too curvy for my tastes--my hips make me look a little fat--and I'm about average height. I'm definitely NOT pretty.
"Um...uh...th-thanks," I stammered out nervously. I never though such a good-looking guy would ever color me pretty.
"Why are you stammering?"
"Um, I-I, I just...um...why do you care?"
I could hear the laughter in his voice. "Are you blushing?"
"No!" I said indignantly, even though I knew I was.
Now he was laughing. "Yes, you are."
"You can't even see me!" I said, but now I was laughing too. Damn, this wasn't good. He was tough looking, handsome, had this great accent, AND he could make me crack up.
When we stopped laughing, I asked: "Hey, how did you get your number into my purse?"
"I slipped it in when I picked it up for you."
"So you just carry around a slip of paper with your phone number on it in case you bump into a cute chick with a purse?"
He laughed. He had a great laugh. "No, I saw you coming, scribbled my number on a piece of paper I had in my wallet, and bumped into you purposely. I didn't mean to bump into you that hard. I was just going to sort of brush against you and slip it into your pocket."
I giggled. "Brush against me? Major fail."
"Yeah...I got a little excited. I have to go now. Maybe...you could call me later?"
"Sure. Bye."
"Goodbye." I heard him hang up.
I slowly closed the phone and slid it into my pocket. I was falling for that guy, and there was nothing to hang on to or break the fall.
I tossed my purse onto the kitchen table. I slip of paper I didn't remember having been there fell out.
I walked over to table and picked up the paper. On it was scribbled a series of numbers. A phone number, I realized. But whose?
Well, there was only one way to find out. I pulled my cell out of my pocket and dialed the number.
After two rings, I heard the click of the phone. "Hello?" someone said in a Danish accent.
"Hans?" I asked. "I mean, Mr....uh, how did you pronounce your last name again?"
"Just call me Hans, Miss Kandinsky," he said.
"Alright. Just call me Sylvia, then."
"Of course. I would be a shame not to use such a beautiful name."
"You're flirting," I accused.
"I am," he admitted. "You are quite pretty, though, so you really can't blame me."
My face flushed. Pretty? Whoa. I'm not pretty. I have super fair skin that turns red easily, white-blond hair, and grayish blue eyes. I'm a little too curvy for my tastes--my hips make me look a little fat--and I'm about average height. I'm definitely NOT pretty.
"Um...uh...th-thanks," I stammered out nervously. I never though such a good-looking guy would ever color me pretty.
"Why are you stammering?"
"Um, I-I, I just...um...why do you care?"
I could hear the laughter in his voice. "Are you blushing?"
"No!" I said indignantly, even though I knew I was.
Now he was laughing. "Yes, you are."
"You can't even see me!" I said, but now I was laughing too. Damn, this wasn't good. He was tough looking, handsome, had this great accent, AND he could make me crack up.
When we stopped laughing, I asked: "Hey, how did you get your number into my purse?"
"I slipped it in when I picked it up for you."
"So you just carry around a slip of paper with your phone number on it in case you bump into a cute chick with a purse?"
He laughed. He had a great laugh. "No, I saw you coming, scribbled my number on a piece of paper I had in my wallet, and bumped into you purposely. I didn't mean to bump into you that hard. I was just going to sort of brush against you and slip it into your pocket."
I giggled. "Brush against me? Major fail."
"Yeah...I got a little excited. I have to go now. Maybe...you could call me later?"
"Sure. Bye."
"Goodbye." I heard him hang up.
I slowly closed the phone and slid it into my pocket. I was falling for that guy, and there was nothing to hang on to or break the fall.
it was a cold dark night. kowalski was out for a walk in the park. he felt like something was watching him. he turned around again to see a frying pan hit him in the face.
then he was dragged away by a black bird. he woke up to see a huge portal device. it was glowing blue like the night sky. he looks over to his left as he feels something move next to him.
he gasps as he sees Kasey tied up next to him. then he feels his head get lifted up by something. the black bird that had dragged him off earlier was staring at him with purple eyes.
the bird forcefully opened his beak and poured the blue liquid down his throat. kowalski's eyes turned light green but then turned blue again. he fainted after that...
then he was dragged away by a black bird. he woke up to see a huge portal device. it was glowing blue like the night sky. he looks over to his left as he feels something move next to him.
he gasps as he sees Kasey tied up next to him. then he feels his head get lifted up by something. the black bird that had dragged him off earlier was staring at him with purple eyes.
the bird forcefully opened his beak and poured the blue liquid down his throat. kowalski's eyes turned light green but then turned blue again. he fainted after that...