Well then, I am me. I am I, yet also not I is not me and I. Does that confuse me? It should. Nothing makes sense in this world of comedy. Bask in the laughter of men staying silent. That’s my motto of this never ending life of mine. As I walk through the plains, the jungle left behind for good, all I can do is stay true to my guns and keep moving forward.
Left is down and up and right and left all at the same time. When I walk forward, I walk in place while also moving all at the same time. A senseless paradox that can only exist in the minds and hearts of men and women looking for the ever fleeting notion that is meaning.
If I were to write about this experience of existing within a paradox that my mind has created for the benefit of no one, I wouldn’t write it down as hell. Which kind of surprises me. Why would I not describe this as a hellish creation for my own torment? That can be answered easily. It’s simply because calling this hell is too narrowminded.
If this were actually hell, then there would be no end to it, yet I know there’s an end waiting for me. All it takes for me to achieve that end is to open my eyes and wake up on a new day of the rising sun. But even beyond that, in this place where reality comes to die, I may not be moving a single inch, but I’m also stepping miles ahead. With each step I take, I move several miles, while not moving a single millimeter.
Sooner or later, I will be able to move again. I just have to keep on walking and eventually, I’ll claim my prize, and move forward and extra step, getting ever closer to that mountain that reaches above the clouds, above the planets in the solar system, even above heaven itself.
I can still see it. The clouds circle around it, the storm finally dying down after years of striking the mountain. They probably got their autograph at the end of the day. Crying solves everyone’s problems. Everyone should cry more often. Not only would it make everyone feel better without bottling up their tears, but they’ll also get what they’ve always wanted in life.
A toy car flies by with a rocket embedded into the trunk, just like the car I asked for on Christmas when I was five years of existing on this planet. See, I got what I wanted. Now cry. Cry the tears of pleasure and let the tears seep into the earth.
***
My eyes slowly open, taking in the view little by little. The sun is shining through the curtains that I had forgotten to close again, the bouquets sat under my desk like normal, and there’s the normal lump in my sheet that’s moving up and down right over my dick. Completely normal stuff happening right here.
I move my sheet out of the way and see what that lump really is. Unmasking the criminals like I’ve seen that one blond guy do in those cartoons, I find the true culprit behind the warm wetness circling my cock.
Harmony’s bobbing her head up and down, gobbling my dick like it’s the tastiest thing she’s ever eaten. I don’t think I share the same opinion as her, but that doesn’t mean that I should discourage her from eating her favorite meal cause I don’t like it.
“Morning.” Harmony mumbled while slurping my dick like a lollipop.
The pleasure went wild in my hips and slowly wiggled its way into my spine and everywhere else in my body. It was so overwhelming that I could blow any moment. That moment being now, of course.
I release all the pent up pleasure down Harmony’s throat and she gulps it all down. The sound of her drinking my cum only made me cum even more, and she drank that which formed a perfect loop. However, it all ran dry a few seconds later, and she raised her head from my hip’s head.
Her tail swayed about in its own form of pleasure, like a dog wagging its tail when being pet. Suddenly it stiffened up as Harmony swallowed the remaining cum down her throat. It grew limp before retreating its way under Harmony’s skirt. She still never told me where she hides her tail, and I’m tempted to raise her skirt one of these days just to figure it out for myself. My imagination is already running dry and I need new material.
“Morning.” I responded to her a minute too late. “You going to work soon?”
“In about an hour.”
It’s been around a week since the whole crazy shit happened. We slowly got into a routine and I noticed something interesting. A day passed when we couldn’t do anything, so Harmony went hungry for that day. When we went at it the next morning, she became much more ferocious than normal.
With each passing day of hunger, the hunger will slowly build up over a period of time, and like gas in a coke bottle, when the lid is finally open, it spews everywhere. And yes, that is also an innuendo. Sue me.
Harmony got up from bed and walked back to her room while I just sat at my computer. Whereas she has to walk to work, I have to do everything from home and I enjoy it. Not having to talk with other people, not having to talk with other people, and best of all, not having to talk with other people is the highlight of working from home.
“See ya!” Harmony shouted.
I could hear the front door slam shut as she left. Now, what do I have written down? So far, I’m still in the idea phase and I’ve gotten a few ideas scattered here and there. One of the more notable ones being that four friends get teleported to a fantasy world and they all die tragically in the end. I scrapped that one immediately.
I’m getting tired of writing tragedies. Then again, comedies don’t really sell that well unless they’re made for kids. If someone makes a comedy for a child demographic, there’s a 101 percent chance to get bought by school libraries. But I’m not a child author, so what can I do exactly?
Maybe make something that’s not inherently a tragedy, but not a comedy. Maybe a romance could work, but I’ve never really been big with romances. Every time I think of a story that involves a romance, slowly but surely, my brain’ll come to the conclusion that one of them will die in the climax. Just look at my first book, for example.
I scroll down my list of ideas, and one sentence shouts at me. A story where a lonely man tries to reach a mountain. I don’t remember writing that idea down, but it didn’t seem like a bad idea. It was so broad that it didn’t need to end in tragedy, and a goal was already set in stone. All that’s left is to come up with obstacles along the way, and presto, I have a story.
Before I begin the outline, I scour through the rest of my ideas. There could be another idea that strikes my fancy like that mountain one. When none shows up, I crack my knuckles, stretch my back, cry out in pain cause I accidentally knocked my knee against the desk, and got to work.
***
“Oh Harmony, good morning.” Miranda said to me the moment I walk into work.
“Morning Miss Miranda.”
“Sweetie, you don’t have to add in miss whenever you say my name.”
“Sorry Miss Miranda.”
She sighed, and we got to work right away. After an entire week of nothing but this job, I kind of got the hang of it. All that my job called for was to work the register. Miranda would keep check of the antiques and would regularly check the online orders. If an order came in, she would get the stuff while I bag them and cover them in protective paper.
I used to think that she also had to appraise stuff too. She and Ty said that appraising was a part of her job, so when I noticed she was doing a lack of it, I asked her about it.
“I rarely ever appraise stuff. There’s only one time when I’ll ever value an item and that’s when I’m helping other people on the net appraise items. Usually that type of work falls to Pawn Shops, but people will usually get scammed out of their money by doing that. Some try to come to me to figure out their item’s worth, then leave and sell it at the Pawn Shops. After I figured that out, I just stopped doing it all together.”
“But then, why did you say that you had trouble with bagging and appraising stuff at my interview?”
She looked away from me and stared at the front door. “Hey, it’s easier to hire someone if they pity you.”
And that’s how that entire conversation went. I also caught on to a bit of a marketing tactic she would use when buying stuff from people. She would buy it, then double the price. I didn’t think anything of it at first until I told Ty about it.
“Yeah, it’s probably, possibly, almost 100% illegal. But hey as long as she doesn’t get caught, then you’re fine.” He said.
After that, anytime I saw someone wearing something even slightly blue or black pass by, I would instantly freeze up. I didn’t want to risk my identity if a swat team came in here and arrested us on spot, but this is the closest place to home that’s hiring. I just have to take a deep breath and pray to Falya that I’m not going to get busted.
“Hey, Harmony.” I looked at Miranda and see her pointing at the window. “You think she looks weird too or is it just me.”
I turn and see someone approaching the shop. I recognized the woman immediately. With that black hair, gray sweater, and glasses that reflected the sun, that strange woman that knocked over my bags came approaching the store.
