It was another tiresome day for Stanley. The boss, again, had asked him to complete an essay about his boring life to publish for his poor co-workers to stare and drool at. He had already finished the part about his boss' life, and all that remained was the part where Stanley could describe him as a corrupt fascist third world dictator. But Stanley knew better. Taking his pills, he drank the substance and threw the disposable cup towards the tiny bin. The cup missed the bin, hitting his cat, which ran howling. Tomorrow, the boss would pay.
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.08 seconds at 4:43am on Nov 14, 2024 via server WEBX2.