free web site hit counter

blonde roast . com

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didnt do than by the ones you did do , so throw off the bowlines , sail away from safe harbor , catch the trade winds in your sails . Explore , Dream , Discover .

Misc. links


Last Login:
May 26th, 2018

View All Posts

Gender: Female

Age: 26
Country: United States

Signup Date:
June 06, 2016


01/10/2017 11:33 PM 

Mission 17.

Simple Existence.

I fell asleep in a city that doesn't, thought I was special but you know I wasn't. It's just hard to believe that I won't be held responsible, for the things that you now know.

The winter was rough on the concrete beneath her feet. The pavement cracking at the weight of heavy snow. The rocks being picked up anytime a plow came to remove it. That's what the blonde thought of her life. The stress was the snow -- it's crushing weight holding her down, breaking giant parts off of her like the potholes she was avoiding. The blow was everything life was handing her right now: the break-off of her engagement, her single pregnancy, how her son chose to stay with Nate over her until they could start to figure things out. Elise Forbes felt like only a fraction of the girl she used to be. She felt like pretty soon, her life was going to cave in, almost like a sinkhole. 

The cold Boston air hit her lungs like a knife. She was in the beginning stages of a cold, and being pregnant, she wasn't allowed to take cough medicine like a normal person. That why her thermos was full of hot tea and honey, something to soothe her throat while she thought. She was in the North End, an unfamiliar territory to most, but one common to her. She always was there, whether it was because of hockey games she went to go see at T.D. Bank or if it was all the pasta she could go eat in little Italy. When she first moved back to Boston, her first apartment had been in this tiny neighborhood on a hill. She ended up being kicked out of the home, it was foreclosed on after her landlord was picked up for his ties with the mob and no one had bought it since. 

She stopped in front of the abandoned building, taking a deep breath as she climbed through the broken fence. She looked around -- making sure no one was following her. Not like she was worried about the police, but more of the homeless people finding out her secret and having the place be burnt down. She went around to the back of the house and climbed up on the slanted ramped doors that lead to the basement. Instead of going down the stairs, she used the ramp to help her climb through the first floor's kitchen window. The place was ran down and dusty. Animals had taken shelter for the winter, but she wasn't bothering any of them, so they didn't bother her. She made her way through the old kitchen and living room till she hit the door to the stair case. They were falling apart now, but she knew where not to step from years of experience. She climbed them till the fifth floor, which lead to the roof. She grabbed the blanket at the top of the stairs, the one she had brought the last time she came, and walked out to see the same set up. Her old bluetooth shower radio and her old beach chair. She walked over and put batteries in her radio before playing the "Frank Sinatra" radio station on her phone, and she sat down on the chair.

She took in the sites of all around her. She had the perfect view of the Tobin and the Lenny Zakim bridge. She had T.D Bank to her left, the rest of the city to her right. She was a small blip in this giant city. 1 of 667,137 people. She wasn't any different from the people sleeping in the streets or the ones at home with their families. Everyone was going through something. Her life wasn't ending, as much as she thought it was. In the end, everything was going to be okay.

Looking out into the city, taking in the sights and the sounds, the blonde, for the first time in weeks cried. And it was glorious.


View All Posts

View All Posts

Mobile | Terms Of Use | Privacy | Copyright | Profile Layouts | FAQ | Vote For Us

© 2018. All Rights Reserved.