Venting: Fortune Cookie
Tape? That’s an interesting offer, but no thanks. You already know what I want from you, and no, I do NOT mean it that way. Whoever said I was a perve?
Fortune Cookie,
I appreciate your hardly accurate but witty and sarcastic prediction. I really do.
I mean, it’s always good to wake up to half-hearted laugh and begin your day on the decent to hell.
Okay, I know I sound just a tad bit harsh, but that’s what you get for three shots (of espresso) while waiting for that darn mailman.
To be perfectly honest, I was actually expecting something more. Your letters have always managed to impress me, even to the point that I could no longer sleep. For the past few weeks I have been doomed to the endless nights of fruitless pacing and chafing (not really). All I could do was sit and wait, and hope the sun would rise soon. But no, I suffered the consequences of having an overactive imagination, and during those countdown hours, I came up with several different ways for the human race to never see daylight again. I’ll spare you the details.
Alright, back to the point. I wanted something more than venting this time. I wanted an apology. For what? I’m not sure yet, but I have this gut feeling that I deserve one.
Now, tell me. What are my lucky numbers?




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