Sta.sh
Short Story
by ~katamariarcherThey say battle-hardened like it's a badge you can just carry around and remove whenever you please. Its highly suspect that any of these people really know what that term means. I suppose being cynical was my only saving grace among this room of social pariahs. They neither knew nor cared for anything beyond their own glittering world of jewels and parties. For my own sake I must say that if not for my upbringing I would be like those self-absorbed creatures. I suppose at this point my bitterness begins to rear its head, surprisingly this bitterness arises from neither jealousy nor hatred. Simply put this bitterness came about due, not in any small way, to my own foolishness.
This tale I tell and it for all my knowledge is truth through and through, remains hard to believe. Night after night I review what has happened and all the horrible things that led to this. I suppose the best place to begin would be roughly 4 years ago, our very first meeting of course. Though neither of us at the time would know just how important this meeting could possibly be.
It was a balmy July evening; there was a cool breeze that betrayed the rain that was making its way through the area. It was the social event of the season, the opening of the Cairo, Egypt exhibit at the natural history museum. There was to be a replica worth $4 million of King Tutankhamen's famous mask to be displayed. He was at the time busy with the last minute preparations for the exhibit opening. Darting here and there, moving this piece to that room or removing entire collections to make room for the newest pieces to be displayed. It was during such a rush back and forth that they met. Hastily done introductions and the halfhearted suggestion that they should find time to speak later. It was not but an hour or so later that evening when things began to slow and the crush of that pressing crowd became less. I hadn't til that point noticed exactly how tired he seemed or how gaunt his features had become. Sitting down to speak with him we shared our respecive glasses of whiskey and vodka.
Over the next few hours we regaled each other with tales of our exploits, explorations in that jungle and several life or death situations that sent a chill up the spine.
The best way to make the reader wanting to read until the end
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French forum RP: Ich Bin Ewig
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When I fell for you, I gave you my heart. When you broke my heart, you broke me. Now that I'm broken, there are no restraints. So what's to stop me from breaking you?
Real life is time consuming
Good luck in your job research ^^
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French forum RP: Ich Bin Ewig