Pete's new neighbor's eyes had stopped darting. They were transfixed, locked in on Pete's gut. Pete's heart began to race, and his face felt hot. He stepped forward, just a little, but hard on his foot, so it jiggled. It felt like the bravest thing he'd ever done.
They were close now. Pete offered his hand. "Pete."
"J-James." James finally looked up from Pete's belly. They shook hands, for reasons neither of them understood. Pete heard his Dad call from the house, and realized it was the third time. He was in a bit of a trance of his own.
"I gotta go."
Pete put the same box in the wrong room three times before he snapped out of it. But something about lifting furniture up stairs with your Dad really kills the mood.
At the end of the day, Pete was sweaty and tired. His room, at this point, was just a mattress and pile of boxes but he was glad to see it. His shirt, drenched with sweat, clung to every curve. He peeled it off and tossed it in the corner. He was about to take off his pants when he...
Copyright 2000 - 2024 21 x 20 Media All rights reserved. This site is property of 21 x 20 Media
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 0.14 seconds at 2:56pm on Nov 28, 2024 via server WEBX1.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author