“Bodies are, after all, mostly water,” he mansplains at the unwitting listener seated across from him. A stranger, she looks blankly at him, off put, embarrassed, not for herself, obviously. He continues; capping off the last portion of stated humiliation, he winks, “And I gotta say, with a body like yours, it’s hard not to want to go for a swim.” “Water you say?” she responds in flirtatious jest; “Here’s some water for ya.” She stands and dumps the cup of water in her hand in his face. “Enjoy your swim, asshole.”
“Look, lady, she’s mine. I saw her first, and I’m back for her now.” “Well, that’s strange ‘cause the sales lady over there just sold her to me.” “But I spoke with the manager yesterday.” “Then how or why would they sell her to me today?” “Ma’am! Miss! You there, come over here now, please, and tell this lady to give me my dog.”
“Yea, it’s a rough situation to fall asleep on an airplane, only to be stirred from an already restless sleep by screams, thrashing people, and alarms and flashing lights and what have you. No one wants to experience turbulence while awake. Imagine what it’s like to awaken to the horror. Not to mention that the plane itself was making a crash landing. Who knows though, maybe the fact that your coffee was accidentally made decaf really is one of the worst things that can happen.”
“Before what?” he asks while the man who was speaking only a moment ago stopped speaking, instead, walked toward the window and stared out. “Steve, are you alright, man?” he asks. A glass in hand filled with an amber-colored alcoholic beverage, Steve stares off beyond the window pane and declares, “Before the time of whenever is now.”
Sometimes she feels like she definitely doesn’t have a clue. She looks down at the envelope in her hands, reads her name clearly labelled across the FROM section on the left-hand corner of the manila folder. To where she sends the thing, she cannot make any sense of. Where the hell is, “Somewhere on Beach Street”?
[5 different prompts @ 2 MIN ea]