3:58 p.m. I’m sitting on my dark brown, leathered chair, watching an episode of Orange is The New Black, while Mark is walking around the apartment in a hastily manner. As Mark is walking a marathon in here, I notice that our apartment looks peculiarly similar to that of Joey and Chandler’s in the sitcom Friends. We have an entertainment center that takes up at least 27% of the room. We have a 40 inch flat-screen television. We have a foosball table near the kitchen. We even have a portrait of a fighting Kangaroo in the hall near the bathroom. The only thing we don’t have is a canoe.
Mark is a young looking guy, barely in his mid-20s, like I am, but whenever Mark gets stressed, he gets really stressed, like, his face turns old – menacingly …show more content…
He accidentally bumps into the coffee table we have in the center of the living room, which is the only piece of furniture we have that wasn’t given to us from either our parents and friends, and knocks down a pile of our manuscripts and published works. Mark murmurs an apology under his breath for bumping into the table and knocking down our stuff, but continues his pacing around. I barely move a muscle, still watching Orange is The New Black with two things of my mind: 1) We really need to move this coffee table somewhere else, people are always bumping into it; and 2) I should probably start pacing around, too. Like Mark, I’m a …show more content…
This is Miss Rebecca Daisy from Little, Brown publishers! My boss, Mrs. Gowdy, was skimming through some stuff I placed on her desk, and she came across Mr. Ashton’s story and –” Mark abruptly opens the sliding glass door. Looking long and limber, Mark asks who I am talking to. “Miss Daisy,” I whisper, with the phone turned away. Mark chuckles as he walks to the kitchen, asking if she sounds hot and if she knows when Morgan Freeman to coming to pick her up. I unwittingly answer his first question, “Heck yeah!” to which I hear on the other line, “Great! I scheduled dinner reservations for Dorsia at 8:30 p.m. tomorrow. Mrs. Gowdy and I can’t wait to meet with you two! See you then!” Click. I look at Mark, who is standing next to the refrigerator, drinking my last Gatorade, and tell him, “Dude, guess what?!” Mark looks puzzled at my excitement and has an intrigued look on his
Mark is a young looking guy, barely in his mid-20s, like I am, but whenever Mark gets stressed, he gets really stressed, like, his face turns old – menacingly …show more content…
He accidentally bumps into the coffee table we have in the center of the living room, which is the only piece of furniture we have that wasn’t given to us from either our parents and friends, and knocks down a pile of our manuscripts and published works. Mark murmurs an apology under his breath for bumping into the table and knocking down our stuff, but continues his pacing around. I barely move a muscle, still watching Orange is The New Black with two things of my mind: 1) We really need to move this coffee table somewhere else, people are always bumping into it; and 2) I should probably start pacing around, too. Like Mark, I’m a …show more content…
This is Miss Rebecca Daisy from Little, Brown publishers! My boss, Mrs. Gowdy, was skimming through some stuff I placed on her desk, and she came across Mr. Ashton’s story and –” Mark abruptly opens the sliding glass door. Looking long and limber, Mark asks who I am talking to. “Miss Daisy,” I whisper, with the phone turned away. Mark chuckles as he walks to the kitchen, asking if she sounds hot and if she knows when Morgan Freeman to coming to pick her up. I unwittingly answer his first question, “Heck yeah!” to which I hear on the other line, “Great! I scheduled dinner reservations for Dorsia at 8:30 p.m. tomorrow. Mrs. Gowdy and I can’t wait to meet with you two! See you then!” Click. I look at Mark, who is standing next to the refrigerator, drinking my last Gatorade, and tell him, “Dude, guess what?!” Mark looks puzzled at my excitement and has an intrigued look on his