Emilio woke up in a daze lying on his couch to the jarring sound of a football announcer screaming into his microphone while the Falcons made a touch down.
What do Americans see in this crap?
He sighed and slowly unfolded from his crumpled position. Looking out of the window, he saw something white falling from the dark sky. It took him a few moments to realize that it was actually snowing...
I have to go out in THIS weather?
He walked over to his closet and rummaged around for a heavier jacket instead of his normal leather, motorcycle jacket. He stopped midway through his search when something caught his eye. A midsized box was sitting in the back of his closet.
I could have sworn I put this somewhere else....
The occurrences of the previous day came crashing into his mind like a train going full speed with malfunctioning brakes. He quickly leaned down and swept up the package, hugging it to his chest.
I won't chance leaving you here.
Hurriedly he put on the warmest jacket he could find and fled from the apartment to his motorcycle in the parking garage below. Tying his package to the back of the bike, he realized he had forgotten his helmet.
Oh well. I'll be fine.
He revved the engine and screeched out of the parking deck, quickly turning the corner he was startled by the jaguar parked precariously in front of him. Swerving, he missed hitting the car and continued on his way to carry out his dangerous task.
What fool leaves a nice car like that just parked for anyone to take?
He thinks in english? His grammar is quite good.
ReplyDeleteChapter 7
ReplyDeleteYames said bye to the waitress, who was now walking to another table with a late night meal for someone, and made his way out of the diner He stepped out side and saw the dingy black motorcycle parked next to the diner, "Must belong to the guy inside," he thought. There was a blue bandanna tied to the handle bars of the bike. Yames had started to become worried at the amount of blue object he had encountered in the last 48 hours. "Have I always seen surrounded by this much blue? Why have I been noticing it so much recently? What had happened the other night when I woke up in my bed with the cuts?" Yames was at a loss. His stomach felt empty from the coffee. He walked back to the apartment. It was now 2:30 a.m. and no one else was out on the streets.
Yames awoke to the jarring sound of a football announcer screaming into his microphone while the Falcons made a touch down. He looked up at his celling in disbelieve, "How could anyone listen to their television that loud." His body is soar and he does not feel rested. Then it occurred to him, "What time is it!" He look over at the clock it was 12 p.m. we was supposed to be at work four hours ago. He races out of the bed and begins to run towards the shower. While he shuts the bathroom door he catches another glimpse of the clock. It was indeed 12:03 p.m., but the clock said saturday. "How can that be? Yesterday was Monday so today is Tuesday." He begins to run a fever. "Whats has happened to the last week!" He looks in the mirror and sees it. He has a large blue triangle tattooed across his chest. He smashes the mirror in a fit of rage. Knuckles bloody he returns to his room for some pants and a shirt.
He runs out side almost being hit by a man on a motorcycle. Someone had mindlessly parked their car in the middle of the parking lot. He runs all the way to Dina's praying the whole time that waitress would be there. He opens the door and sees that she is indeed there taking some ones order. She looked up at him in a startled manner.
She and Yames had known each other for a while, but they were not the kind of friends that went to each other in their time of need. When she looked up Yames realized, "What am i doing? Storming in here?" This does not stop him though he runs over to her.
"We have to go. I need to talk to you."
"What? What are you talking about I am at work. Can't we talk later?"
"No. Look I need help. I think I need help. You are the ONLY person i know please come with me."
The people at the booth look at Yames like hw is some kind of junkie high out of his mind. The waitress agres to come, but she would need to go back and let Dina know. She was not sure that she knew what she was doing, but something in her told her that she had to go.
As Chaz stepped outside, some idiot in a motorcycle almost hit her! "Look where you're going asshole," she yelled. He probably didn't even understand English. Hmm. Some Spanish might do it. "Tu eres loco!" She shouted after the disappearing back of the man.
ReplyDeleteThere. That should clear things up. I wouldn't be surprised if he's in trouble.