A new approach to things

Silversun Pickups - Melatonin

Let me set the scenario for you: You're in a room. Kind of. More like a lean to with a pretty sturdy foundation. One side is fully exposed to the outside. You can fly. It's almost like a dream come true. Almost. Thing is, it turns out flying takes more effort than walking. More effort than riding a bike. Sure, it's a hell of a lot faster, but it's so damn exausting that the rewards are little if any.

I tried today to lessen that strain. That feeling of muscles being strained and ripped with every in air motion. I loaded up on pills. A guy I know sells them for pretty cheap, and he's a close friend, so I got them even cheaper. It might have been free. I can't remember. I took a lot of them at once, which he says you're not supposed to do. I'm still not convinced. Anyway, I took off into the air. It was exhilerating. I could feel the sun blistering my skin, and it was a good burn. I had finally found something so much better than drugs and alcohol, despite that I needed them just to reach this point. And then there were bricks. They came rushing up at me from seemingly nowhere. I probably should have kept my eyes open the entire time. It's not that the bricks hurt. They did, I mean, but not enough to stop me. Just enough to let me know something would. I can't help but wonder if had it not been for those bricks, would she have caught up to me? It's a funny thing. I don't even remember anymore when humans began to fly. I have not even a slight idea of how I came to also gain the ability. I suppose if one lives long enough they get to see evolution in living form. Oh, yes, the story. I got back into the air pretty quickly. Soon she was upon me. This was torture. There she was, and of all thing naked. Her perfect figure ripening in the sunlight. Her breasts, small, but ample. Her hips with that wide arced curve that makes my spine jolt. Her smile, like the earth herself is smiling upon you with only good fortune. And this I could not take. I had no idea what to do. All I could think of was a moment centuries ago, when I had destroyed the face of a similar girl with a rock. It was good natured, but it had not worked. All I had to use this time were my wits, and a small amount of charm. You wouldn't think it possible for someone to live so long and still fail so miserably at the art of courting. Again, this would show through. Now I am sore, within and without. No memories to trace the moment. We got around, and I hit the ground. I stayed on the ground. She must have reemerged. And I don't even have a fourth wall to show for it all.

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