Reflections on the Surface of a Toe Nail

Reflections on the Surface of a Toe Nail

Chapter 5

     The Story The Authors
The warm ocean waves gently touched Paul's toes. The soft sand lay nestled beneath his fingers. He sighed as he watched the golden orange sun sink slowly into the mountainous horizon. It truly had been a great summer. He thought of all the things he had been through and how good it felt to finally relax and enjoy life. After almost losing his summer job and his only ticket to college he had decided to come here. The beach so he could get his thoughts together. He thought of just staying here and leaving his worries all his hardships behind. He knew he couldn't do that though. Suddenly, he felt an approaching person or an approaching something. The sun had completely set now and he coulndn't seem to make out what was approaching him. He squinted through the darkness. What was it? His heart told him, by the increase in beating, that whatever it was it was not good... none
...Or maybe the two dozen marijuana brownies he had consumed over the last ninety minutes were just making him a bit paranoid. Paul remembered how much he had laughed when Rebecca had first made him marijuana brownies; she had actually baked the leaves right into the brownies. They were crunchy and bitter like an undercooked garden burger. Of course, they had eaten them anyway; they had spent their last dime on that score, and they weren't going to just throw it away. Paul had made this last batch himself, as Rebecca had left him for a college man, "someone with a future." He still laughed, though, as he sauteed the Cannabis in Land O' Lakes sweet cream butter. But as the figure emerged from the darkness, he realized he wasn't just paranoid, and that the weed had slowed him down enough that he wasn't going to get away... Bard
"What the hell has this guy been smoking?" Nicole thought to herself as she approached the stranger on the beach. After winning the Women's Ultimate Fighting Championship, she was hired by the DEA. This guy appeared that he would be her third bust this week alone. She was making quite a name for herself already! Turning her thoughts back to the business at hand, she drew her twin .45 Magnum handcannons and approached the junkie cautiously. Super Dave
Then realization struck! She was not alone. In came her arch enemy! chuck
It was a ghost MELISSA
Then The Ghost made friends with her. So I guess they were really good friends. This story sounds stupid. So quit putting swear words in the story. Whoever put them swear words in this story is a chicken butt. SO THERE!!!!! HA HA HA. Melissa
But althought this story sounds stupid, there is a lesson to be learned. For although they were really good friends, and although chicken butts keep swearing, The Ghost had other plans for the lady. The Ghost wanted her to be with him forever and therefore wanted to find a way to....yes....put her in her grave. none
But the old lady fortunately had taken tae kwon do in her younger years and succesfully beat up the ghost. roo
Wha! Hung! Whup-Hai! She kicked and flailed at the intangible beast knowing it would feel the kicks that she couldn't. none
If I ever get out of here, I'm never coming back. This is insane. How did I ever get signed up for this? Well, my timer is almost up. Whew! dmr
Melissa was right, this story is stupid. When are we going to get some real talent here? I guess I don't have to hang around. Goodbye. dmr
the quitter show no talent--whatsoever none
And so he will wither away Sara
to nothing but a lowly existence cutie
whatever ashley
Suddenly she woke up in a sweat "IT WAS ONLY A DREAM" she said or was it hunny
Okay new story: It was a dark and stormy night. Liz was babysitting at a friends house three blocks from hers. The kids were asleep and Liz was watching T.V. She went to call her mom on the kitchen phone. It was dead. Crash a flash of lighting and then darkness. The lights were out. Suddenly a noise from the basment like the sound of glass breaking broke the silence. hunny
k hunny
I followed that same dog down the same sidewalk, and I wondered what it was that was so important the dog had to do. He wasn't even much of a dog. Poor dog was made up of the left over clay that was cut away from other, finer, pure bred dogs. I suppose purity is admirable, but it also leaves you aching to be something more. Lucy-O


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