Musings of JR Simmang

Good morning. I'm hoping to turn this one into a short film. I think it has potential. Puppets and Pools I was supposed to meet Will for lunch this afternoon at this little café off Letty Street. Normally, we meet at the sidewalk under his building. That’s one of the drawbacks working in two different buildings. It’s sometimes hard to coordinate. I must have made it out first because Will wasn’t where he usually leans. I got my phone out and buzzed him. “Hello?” “Will, it’s Steve.” “Oh, hey bud.” “Lunch?” “Oh, shit. Yeah, sorry. Time got away from me. Mr Worthen is working my team hard.” “Tell me about it." We shared a chuckle. "Where are you man? You sound like you’re in a tunnel.” "I’ll be down soon. Reception sucks up here.” "Alright. Bye." We hung up, and I leaned in Will’s spot, a nice shaded area just under the awning and next to the trashcan. The streets were busy, which was unremarkable. It was lunch time after all. People

This is a response from a Writer's Digest prompt. I think it has some potential. I wear pajamas. My girlfriend makes fun of me for it. It all started back before I started school. I would floss, brush my teeth, take a shower, towel off, and I would put on my jammies. My mother would buy me a new pair every Christmas and on my birthday. I had ones for hot weather (a breathable number from Patagonia®), and I had long underwear for the cold winter months. This morning, at around 3:15 a.m. I happen to be wearing my chili pepper pants. My shirt was lost in the midnight tossing and turning. I awaken to the sound of the doorbell ringing. And ringing. And ringing. I throw off the covers. My girlfriend tosses her arm over my chest and makes a sound similar to a lioness in heat. “Hmmrrrgggg. Who that?” Her faculties haven’t quite kicked in yet. “I don’t know, hun. I’ll check it out.” The doorbell rings again, and as I walk from my bedroom and grasp the handle of my Louisvill