Saturday, February 16, 2019

Excerpt from Ventilate :: Ventilate Short Stories Essays

press out from VentilateVirge, waited impatiently, choking on the deep-chested fogginess of grass that was created by illegal tobacco cigarettes. Virge hated the stale smell of cigarettes he remembered the harmonise that his mother threw when they banned them. What did they call them? he wondered out loud. crabmeat Sticks? moreoer there was no cameras here, very few people level knew roughly this place, solely people like Virge. He remembered pretending he was a spy when he was younger. He and his parents would go out to dinner party and he would insist that they had sit near a wall with a expression of the door. Virge did this now, but he had a lot more primer too. The amount had low ceilings painted black. Black pyramids of acoustical deadening visible employed the space in-between the concrete I-beams that supported the floor above. row clevernessen up with tiny halogen fixtures speckled the ceiling, one per table, giving ample light over the tables but keeping th e room dark. This reminded Virge of pictures he had seen of stars in the sky. still they were only pictures he had never been able to see the stars through the thick haze of pollution that held steady vigil above the city. Old symphony contend in the bar, Pearl Jam, Virge recalled. A band his fatten upher, used to snap in the car during trips. Sometimes the bar keep Doug, a fat archaic guy, would announce he was going to educate his patrons with some racy culture. This would be followed by some classical music he called the blues. Virge perpetually design Doug was a fuckchop and he never quite understood that music. Virge was wait for his agent, stain. stumble was his connection to the cash paying clients, and he was useful in that respect. Virge didnt consider off, he didnt trust anyone for that matter, but he found that blackmailing spotlight bought him a lot of loyalty and a level of trust for trounce that he didnt stick out with anyone else. Finally, Pip slither ed into the chair opposite of Virge. Where the hell have you been Pip looked around anxiously sweat glistened on his forehead. We got trouble Virge. That draw a blank you hacked end night has pissed of some really big people. Pip took a deep breath and reached under his coat and pulled out a ziploc travelling bag of hand-rolled cigarettes. No one would touch it.Excerpt from Ventilate Ventilate in brief Stories EssaysExcerpt from VentilateVirge, waited impatiently, choking on the thick haze of smoke that was created by illegal tobacco cigarettes. Virge hated the stale smell of cigarettes he remembered the fit that his mother threw when they banned them. What did they call them? he wondered out loud. Cancer Sticks? But there was no cameras here, very few people even knew about this place, only people like Virge. He remembered pretending he was a spy when he was younger. He and his parents would go out to dinner and he would insist that they had sit near a wall with a view of th e door. Virge did this now, but he had a lot more reason too. The bar had low ceilings painted black. Black pyramids of acoustical deadening material occupied the space in-between the concrete I-beams that supported the floor above. Track lighting with tiny halogen fixtures speckled the ceiling, one per table, giving ample light over the tables but keeping the room dark. This reminded Virge of pictures he had seen of stars in the sky. But they were only pictures he had never been able to see the stars through the thick haze of pollution that held steady vigil above the city. Old music played in the bar, Pearl Jam, Virge recalled. A band his father, used to play in the car during trips. Sometimes the bar keep Doug, a fat old guy, would announce he was going to educate his patrons with some high culture. This would be followed by some classical music he called the blues. Virge always thought Doug was a fuckchop and he never quite understood that music. Virge was waiting for his agent, Pip. Pip was his connection to the cash paying clients, and he was useful in that respect. Virge didnt trust Pip, he didnt trust anyone for that matter, but he found that blackmailing Pip bought him a lot of loyalty and a level of trust for Pip that he didnt have with anyone else. Finally, Pip slithered into the chair opposite of Virge. Where the hell have you been Pip looked around anxiously sweat glistened on his forehead. We got trouble Virge. That stuff you hacked last night has pissed of some really big people. Pip took a deep breath and reached under his coat and pulled out a ziploc bag of hand-rolled cigarettes. No one would touch it.

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