Excerpt #1

The Thursday afternoon sky was a magnificent blue and there was not a cloud in the sky to disturb it. But as the day shone, I was half out of sleep and half into a fantasy which was far more wonderful than reality. The welcoming sky was still only the sky and I was lying far below it; therefore, I waited. I was waiting for my five o’clock shift to start, waiting for the hour beforehand it would take me to get my face together. I was being sombre and committing a deadly sin--one to add to the other six, I suppose.

The truth is I was just tired of living. The ground is just so full of burden, whereas the sky seems so free. The ground is where most of us reside: the middle and lower classes of society, the dispirited beings. Our opportunities to rise above the invisible barrier to a more limitless freedom are hard to come by. You might be saying its because I think this way--that it’s all in my outlook, but I am constantly reminded that success is mostly rewarded to those at an advantage: The prettier you are, the more affinity you’ll initially receive. The taller and leaner you are, the more respect you’ll gain. And if you happen to fit this beauty ascetic and pair it with a quick-wit, a high GPA, an upper class background and/or a sympathetic story, you will have managed to, more often then not, find a way out.

I am working on the wit, the GPA, and am hoping to get myself some sort of sympathy story so that someone out there will think I deserve something. So far, I’m just another working girl with a pretty face of average proportion with a dream of small potential. I constantly try to improve my beauty regime so that if I purchase a new eye shadow palette which accents my blue eyes management might consider promoting me. That, or at least catch a more beautiful-than-the-last stranger’s eyes which might potentially lead to finding the love of my life. I still only seem to attract cute salesmen while at the mall who try to use flirtation as a sales mechanism or crack addicts on the c-train. The real gentlemen are all married and the other guys my age drink too much and think they’re cool because they played a sweet game of beer-league baseball and didn’t wear sunscreen so they could work on their “tan (or rather, work on getting skin cancer and a sunburn.)”

But hey, I’m not even single so why am I so concerned? My guy has big brown eyes, loves me, and would do anything for me; trouble is, I don’t feel like I'm in love. The other problem is that I am too scared to loose him. I am at war with myself over it; not to mention, at war with him as well. At least I believe in one of a million clichés: What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. But for the time being, my personal life is falling apart and I’m finding it difficult to cope.

At least I know better than to cope with heroin, so that’s a plus.

The End

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