CIVILIAN
offline
10 posts
played by turpentine
application
plotter
how can you not believe in spirits? you've got one inside!
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Post by ABEL MONTOYA on Aug 23, 2016 16:06:29 GMT -6
| i t was a fine day to deliver the mail. the sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and abel was nearly finished with his rounds. driving the small postal vehicle was more fun than he could have ever anticipated - it went fairly fast, was smooth and quiet operating, and made delivering the mail a whole heck of a lot easier. today was a fairly good day for the montoya boy - he was smiling, whistling while he worked. he hit up mailbox after mailbox, placing the letters inside gently. of course, he hated delivering all of the bills, but it would be silly to shoot the messenger.
now and then he'd get a package that didn't quite fit within the mailbox, but the one he needed to deliver now was quite a bit larger than that. he beeped the tiny horn of the postal vehicle as he stepped out from it, heading around to the back to retrieve the package addressed to a miss alyson montalban. the box was a little awkward to carry, but he wrapped his arms around it no less. the raven-haired youth was still smiling as he stepped up onto the sidewalk, heading toward the house.
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Post by ALYSON MONTALBAN on Aug 25, 2016 1:21:58 GMT -6
hey, you wanna be my baby (baby baby)
— you're falling into me, you're coming back just like the beginning. at the risk of sounding elitist, shopping options in anytown were atrocious, and that was being generous. atrocious suggested extreme reaction, but their selection was just basic. plain. simple. and not in a sleek, minimalistic way either. it was...truly the fashion of the american midwest, clothing reflecting lifestyle and environment.
a revelation came to her as she fiercely scrutinized the women's section in gordman's for the first time: hell wasn't being surrounded by fire and demons; hell was being surrounded by fields upon fields of corn, unable to buy a single decent shirt. this was an emergency calling for retail therapy.
express shipping, of course.
alyson blinked away her daytime sleepiness and frowned, rising from the couch to investigate what had interrupted her nap. her eyes lit up at the sight of a postal vehicle and a clunky package making its way towards her house. that mailman was her savior, bless his heart. she pulled her worn tank top over her midriff and threw on a pair of sandals before rushing out.
"please, let me help you with that!" she fitted her arm against the mailman's and held the box in an attempt to assist him in the trek up her driveway.
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