05-16-2014, 09:28 AM
Continued from The Divine Truth
Connor’s mind languidly drifted up to consciousness, his bed and blankets a cocoon, softly encasing his body while his mind passed through memories and images and emotions. Finally, his mind gently broke the surface and he was awake. He opened his eyes to the golden light pushing its way around the edges of his curtains. Taking a deep breath he stretched out his arms and legs, feeling the delicious soreness of muscles and joints that came of a good day and a good night’s sleep. He looked down. Typical, he thought with a smile. Going to have to do something about that.
Swinging his legs over the side of the bed he sat up and stretched again. His mind tried to pierce the hazy gauze over last night. He had gone out drinking with some guys from work. He tried to remember how late they stayed out. Maybe 2? What time was it now? 9am. He thought about going back to bed. It was a Saturday and he didn’t have to do anything. But no. He was up. It’d be hard to go back to sleep. He thought about running. Nah. He got up and made his way into the bathroom and then the shower.
Three months earlier his aunt had excitedly contacted him to tell him about a job opening for someone with his experience in network security at a place called Paragon Security. For some reason, he found that despite everything that had happened in Moscow- including the weird revelations that the world was more magical and dangerous than he knew- he just couldn’t leave. He wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe it was that he found his life again here. And there was an energy and excitement he wanted to be a part of- so much so that he had found himself acting rashly, even stupidly at times. Whatever the reason, he knew he wanted to stay. He found himself applying for and getting the job. It paid well, including a signing bonus. He had found a nice place near the Pushkin Museum of Fine Arts, though he doubted he’d be checking that place out any time soon. Art went over his head. The Moscow Suites Apartments on Arbat street. It wasn’t a big place, but he was only one guy. And it was nice.
After the shower, he threw on some jeans and a blue t-shirt and socks and padded into the living room. It was a bit messy- his jacket throw over the chair, some book sitting spine up on the table along with an empty glass that had held some rum, an empty plate and a pile of clothes on the couch, waiting to be folded- but he didn’t care. He was hungry. Unfortunately, the fridge was empty, so he needed to go out. Putting on his jacket and shoes, he left his apartment and went to the elevators. As the car moved down, he found himself thinking back to last night. He and Vlad in particular had had a lot of fun, doing shots, drinking beer, and talking to women. There was that one girl, Katarina, with the- what did Vlad call it? The very smackable ass? Oh yes. That it was. He had her number . Should give her a call.
The elevator doors opened and Connor was greeted with a nice surprise. Talk about smackable. There in the lobby of the building was a woman bent over a large box, struggling with it. She was wearing flannel pajamas that only served to highlight her perfectly heart shaped bottom. He smiled. Her hair was a mass of fiery red. She seemed to be trying to pull a big box into the lobby. The door was propped open and the freezing air was coming in.
“Can I help you with that?,”
he said as he came over?
Edited by Connor Kent, Jun 20 2014, 08:30 AM.
Connor’s mind languidly drifted up to consciousness, his bed and blankets a cocoon, softly encasing his body while his mind passed through memories and images and emotions. Finally, his mind gently broke the surface and he was awake. He opened his eyes to the golden light pushing its way around the edges of his curtains. Taking a deep breath he stretched out his arms and legs, feeling the delicious soreness of muscles and joints that came of a good day and a good night’s sleep. He looked down. Typical, he thought with a smile. Going to have to do something about that.
Swinging his legs over the side of the bed he sat up and stretched again. His mind tried to pierce the hazy gauze over last night. He had gone out drinking with some guys from work. He tried to remember how late they stayed out. Maybe 2? What time was it now? 9am. He thought about going back to bed. It was a Saturday and he didn’t have to do anything. But no. He was up. It’d be hard to go back to sleep. He thought about running. Nah. He got up and made his way into the bathroom and then the shower.
Three months earlier his aunt had excitedly contacted him to tell him about a job opening for someone with his experience in network security at a place called Paragon Security. For some reason, he found that despite everything that had happened in Moscow- including the weird revelations that the world was more magical and dangerous than he knew- he just couldn’t leave. He wasn’t sure what it was. Maybe it was that he found his life again here. And there was an energy and excitement he wanted to be a part of- so much so that he had found himself acting rashly, even stupidly at times. Whatever the reason, he knew he wanted to stay. He found himself applying for and getting the job. It paid well, including a signing bonus. He had found a nice place near the Pushkin Museum of Fine Arts, though he doubted he’d be checking that place out any time soon. Art went over his head. The Moscow Suites Apartments on Arbat street. It wasn’t a big place, but he was only one guy. And it was nice.
After the shower, he threw on some jeans and a blue t-shirt and socks and padded into the living room. It was a bit messy- his jacket throw over the chair, some book sitting spine up on the table along with an empty glass that had held some rum, an empty plate and a pile of clothes on the couch, waiting to be folded- but he didn’t care. He was hungry. Unfortunately, the fridge was empty, so he needed to go out. Putting on his jacket and shoes, he left his apartment and went to the elevators. As the car moved down, he found himself thinking back to last night. He and Vlad in particular had had a lot of fun, doing shots, drinking beer, and talking to women. There was that one girl, Katarina, with the- what did Vlad call it? The very smackable ass? Oh yes. That it was. He had her number . Should give her a call.
The elevator doors opened and Connor was greeted with a nice surprise. Talk about smackable. There in the lobby of the building was a woman bent over a large box, struggling with it. She was wearing flannel pajamas that only served to highlight her perfectly heart shaped bottom. He smiled. Her hair was a mass of fiery red. She seemed to be trying to pull a big box into the lobby. The door was propped open and the freezing air was coming in.
“Can I help you with that?,”
he said as he came over?
Edited by Connor Kent, Jun 20 2014, 08:30 AM.