Book Titles, Answered
A: My natural habitat being systematically destroyed in the name of advancing civilization.
A: Technically, they count electric sheep while they’re still awake, trying to drift off to sleep. Then they generally dream of naked lady androids, or of writing midterms at the local electric school they’re unprepared for, while wearing electric underwear with a Batman motif.
A: Karen finds her a little intimidating, but it mostly has to do with her own insecurities and almost nothing to do with Virginia herself.
A: Probably out saving the brown bear’s habitat and not reading jokes on the Internet, but here we are.
A: We’ve had this conversation before, Simon. You’re a fucking bird.
A: I mean, all God’s children are beautiful in their own way. But no, not really.
A: No. Next question.
A: Hi yeah this is God, sorry, new phone (dropped old one in Sea of Galilee, LOL). Margaret who? I know like, four million.
INT: A tavern on the outskirts of town, nighttime.
WALDO sits at the bar, nursing his whiskey, neat, waiting. Every time he hears the front door creak his head jerks up like a frog on Red Bull, but it isn’t her. It’s never her. Still, he clings to that shred of hope like saran wrap clings to a baloney sandwich. He knows she’ll never really leave her husband, that to her promises were just hollow pillow talk in between meaningless fucks, but in the past few months he’s grown to really care for her.
“She’s not gonna show, bud,” says the gruff bartender, the look on his face a mix of pity and frustration. Waldo shrugs him off, goes back to his drink.
It can’t be over between them, not that easily. She made him feel like he was somebody, more than just another face in the crowd. Suddenly, the door opens again. Waldo looks up. Could it be?