I just know I can get people interested in this blog and maybe create a little something here, that has ever been done before.
I am going to form a short story, and write each chapter for like 15 minutes a day. I think I can do this, much in the same way that musicians perfect their craft.
"No Passport Required"
The tones descended in octave, like a xylohpone, yet still obvious that the sound came from a computer reproduction, a recording of an actual person, playing an actual instrument. Al sat up, trying not to wake his wife, and stumbled into the rest of the house to try and make sense and gain direction for the next few hours.
The yield of an espresso machine, along with a shower , and some music, began to help the plan take shape. It was Friday, the last day of work for Allen, and he was more than ready for a couple of days off. It was not like the work he did was exhausting, it truly was something that came naturally to him. At any rate, a short day there was all that stood between him and the weekend.
His attention was laser locked on the ringing telephone from the table in front of him.
"Hello!" He mustered the necessary polite tone, the phone was the person in charge at the restaurant three miles away that Allen and his family owned and operated together.
...The person on the other end of the phone began to speak. Stacey tried to contain her happiness at the apparent misfortune her biggest rival at the restaurant had seemed to create for himself. Stacey was the best employee there, along with a man named Samheed...they were equal in nearly every rating or measurement possible. This made for a strongly staffed team however, created a little tension as they often were confused about whom I truly liked more. There was no answer. I needed them both. People can be so cagey that way.
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