Rules:
1. Four sentences minimum.
2. Romance is fine but nothing overly sexual.
3. Nothing hard drug related.
4. Feel free to draw from experiences we all deal with at SF, but please nothing harmfully graphic or potentially triggering.. (think before you post basically).
5. Must be contiguous to the last post (i.e. no drastically changing scenes or non sequiturs, feel free to change scenes and introduce new characters and places but by the end tie it into the previous post in such a way that allows the next person posting to weave it into the storyline).
He came to the northwest for the fresh air and the energy. People in Los Angeles seemed so stale to him now.. so needlessly preoccupied with phantasms. He could no longer stand to walk through the piss smelt streets with the hookers and jockeys and B celebrities and meth addicts. Everything had the stench of edited failure there.. compromised dreams.. one night stands.. endless hangover..
Seattle was different. There were no flat strip malled streets here full of trinket peddlers, pawn shops, or neon charlatans. There were valleys and hills and fog and mountains. There was the smell of coffee and the people wore flannel and talked quietly, without anxiety. The shops were gritty and genuine. There were terraced parks and boated coves and tribes of kayakers weaving through the heart of the northern stretches that divided Queen Anne from Fremont. A city at once a capital of tech and ingenuity superimposed upon a backwoods logging town somehow without contradiction.
He knew he would feel better here. He knew this was the place to get his head together. To continue with his plans.. under the radar.. out of the fire.. away from them all.
But then something strange happened.. inexplicable.. unnerving.. and genuinely wonderful..
1. Four sentences minimum.
2. Romance is fine but nothing overly sexual.
3. Nothing hard drug related.
4. Feel free to draw from experiences we all deal with at SF, but please nothing harmfully graphic or potentially triggering.. (think before you post basically).
5. Must be contiguous to the last post (i.e. no drastically changing scenes or non sequiturs, feel free to change scenes and introduce new characters and places but by the end tie it into the previous post in such a way that allows the next person posting to weave it into the storyline).
He came to the northwest for the fresh air and the energy. People in Los Angeles seemed so stale to him now.. so needlessly preoccupied with phantasms. He could no longer stand to walk through the piss smelt streets with the hookers and jockeys and B celebrities and meth addicts. Everything had the stench of edited failure there.. compromised dreams.. one night stands.. endless hangover..
Seattle was different. There were no flat strip malled streets here full of trinket peddlers, pawn shops, or neon charlatans. There were valleys and hills and fog and mountains. There was the smell of coffee and the people wore flannel and talked quietly, without anxiety. The shops were gritty and genuine. There were terraced parks and boated coves and tribes of kayakers weaving through the heart of the northern stretches that divided Queen Anne from Fremont. A city at once a capital of tech and ingenuity superimposed upon a backwoods logging town somehow without contradiction.
He knew he would feel better here. He knew this was the place to get his head together. To continue with his plans.. under the radar.. out of the fire.. away from them all.
But then something strange happened.. inexplicable.. unnerving.. and genuinely wonderful..
