Her fingernails drummed on the plastic tabletop.
Tacka-tack. Tacka-tack. Tacka-ta--
He turned less then an inch in her direction, one eye half opening. Her hand froze, then went slack, nails making one tiny, gentle, click.
“Operor vos teneo quis vicis est, carus?” He murmured.
“Ego sum non certus.”
“Vos es vacuus.” He stood up, and left."
Oh context, where art thou context!
This is just one of the weird miscellany of scenes and images floating around in my head. Yes, they're speaking latin. Why? Who gives a shit. But they are. This I know.
I've gotta keep writing these scenes just to get them out of my system. I warn you, however, stop me if I start to link them together or I might end up writing something on par with Sin City. Dun dun dun.
Blah blahblah, I might as well complain here about my crippling inability to be creative here, at least it's better then annoying all my friends with my complaining about myself, like I know I am.
Wait, can we make that sentence more compound?
Okay. First of all, I blame my attention span. I have the attention span of a young teenage girl and it's annoying me greatly. Why must I be so like what I am?
Second, I blame other people. Not all of them, just the ones who are annoying me. The one who is annoying me. They know who they are, and they are most likely not reading this blog.
Third, I blame the media.
Fourth, I blame myself, simply for doing things wrong and not remembering that idea I had which I'm sure was awesome.
Fifth, I blame greek myths for being so awesome. It's annoying.
Leer, out. ♥
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