Gatekeeper

He tried the doors of the building each one of them locked. He felt ashamed and privately hoped that no one had seen him try the doors. He didnt want to look like he was doing something he shouldnt be. He felt he really should have known it was going to be closed, too late in the day for them not to be. But then again you never know.

He returned up the street to see a small man shuffle towards him. He’s face looked concerned as if he has been lost and rejected from somewhere. “What are you doing here?” he asked puzzled enough to be asking himself the question. He had a gze in his eye to suggest that he was speaking to someone invisible. And though oddly there was a feel of urgency to his voice that said talk softly but carry a big stick. Even though the young man was amused to be asked by such a stranger what he was doing in the middle of the sidewalk he decided to tell her truthfully.

“Oh I was on my way to church to pray thats all.”

“Oh.” The old man said as if had been waiting for those words and was releived to had finally heard them. An invisible weight visibly lifted off the man’s shoulders. “Well I...dont think its open.” He said speaking again as he shuffled away towards the building. The young man looked quitly at the man as he slowly moved away. Still suprised at having to explain himself, but not the least bit annoyed.

Keebo –I’m on my way home-(1)-

He had wanted to enjoy an afternoons rest he was counting himself fortunate to not see his owner’s vehicle in the parking lot. He saw the lights dimmed in the living room. Better yet! The miss had returned to bed early, he presumed. And all he needed to do then was to sit still for a few hours an be sure that she was indeed asleep. He didn’t want her to be ideally talking upstairs and suddenly creep down stair to catch him playing with his toy. Even if she thinks about him at night she might call out for him not to be playing with his favorite toy.

He opened the front door to see his owner laying on the couch in front of the TV glaring at him. He then remembered that his owner had driven his truck to the mechanics, the smile dropped off his face for him to realize that the miss had simple given his master a ride back home. His world of hopes and possibilities crashed. No chew time with his toy he remorse. The trash heap was full. He smiled at it recalling how he had taken two out that morning. His smile was like that of meeting a old welcome friend. His owner need not say anything his very presence said there was work to be done.

Speaking as Alexander –Waste of my love-

I once filled a 100-sheet composition book over to cover with poetry and presented it as a gift to a girl. She held on to it for maybe a day, if even that. I recall her reading some in front of me. In the end she didn’t keep it, claimed she would lose it, so it was better if I kept it.

I remember how I painstakingly wrote all the letters neatly and dated all the poems so that she could read and enjoy it clearly. I was so proud of that book. It was the first time I had filled a composition book in such a short period of time and all on the same subject.

Her returning the book was very symbolic. It was like she returned my love back to me. I wasted my love in those pages, because I don’t believe she even read it all. Unappreciative does not begin to describe her.

Waste of my love fits better.

As a young man -Sketch 9-

I felt I got fortunate with the middle one. She was easily the most beautiful girl I have ever dated. I though it would work, I really did. Untill she stopped accepting my calls. No matter how I called or how often I text she stopped communicating with me and to this day I don’t know why.

Though thankfully I was not wild about her, I was hurt by her betrayl of trust and lack of repect for our relationship. The last time I saw her she spoke so foundy of us, talking about how we would be together, marry, all sorts of long term romantic things were planned.

A week later I never heard from her again. The middle one turned out to be the one I despise the most. The one that asked me to open up to her and trust her fully a month before she ditched me.

I told her I had trust issues. I told her I don’t just give out my heart. By the time she left she was on the verge of getting it. Maybe that was her plan all along. Maybe I was a challenge that just got boring.

….its okay my heart is just a plush toy anyway.

First World –Number of gods-

No mortal knew how many gods there were in total. Some said there was a god in everything from the smallest blade of grass to the tallest and most powerful god made beast.

Some said the gods were numberless for they were always being created and never dying. Some whispered that there was truly only one, and these gods were angles of his.

First World –Love affair of the gods-

It was not unlike the god of darkness to fight with the other gods. Of all the gods of the world, she had only to fear the seven supreme gods, and still even then she had favor with two of the seven. One came from her own family, she knew she had her own father wrapped around her finger, she had from the start when she was first born and only a mere shadow.

She knew as the lover of another one of the supreme gods that no harm would come to her, she expanded herself triumphantly around the city, she feared no god, and now she would teach this arrogant couple to meaning of fear.

First World –Faux and J’Adore-

This story does not begin with a man named Faux and a woman named J’adore but I will start the story with these two, because to start anywhere else would make the tale too long

Faux and J’adore had been married for twelve years at the point in which I start this story. They were unlike other married couples around them for a number of reasons. Theirs was a marriage between a man and a woman, it was a marriage between two adults, and only two people. Like most of the marriages at the time, J’adore as the woman, was the head of the family. Her husband, Faux was a cowardly man, and had it been up to J’adore to decide who she wanted to marry she would have chosen another woman. For she knew her own self, she knew herself to be a very dominate and manipulative, and if she was going to be with anyone she would rather it have been another woman. For she feared feeling like an old mother to a man who acted like a little boy. But as it were her parents were firm believers in their sleeping dreams that had directed and told them to marry their daughter to a man because for as smart, brave, and cunning as she was she would need the strength of a man to fulfill her destiny in life.

And, so it was that J’adore married Faux a cowardly, doubtful, but obediently loyal man.