Every day he drove past it and every day it was face down on the ground. That poor swan, he’d always think to himself. It must’ve had a rough night.
But that rough night lasted for months. It never seemed to end, because, no matter what, it was always face down on the ground.
Until one day, it was sitting upright, just like it was supposed to. He wanted to stop and take a picture. The swan’s rough night was finally over.
It trickled out, slowly at first, but it began to gain momentum. Soon, it gushed out. He couldn’t suppress the look of surprise on his face. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before. It was a brand new experience.
He was also shocked at how long it went on. He didn’t think that there would ever be that much pouring out. He didn’t think there was that much to begin with.
Finally, it ended. After an eternity, his diarrhea was over.
That would be the last time he ate at Taco Bell for a while.
He sat on the toilet, his phone in his hands. He was bored between pushing one out and waiting for the next one. Should he play a game on his phone? Nah. Phone games became repetitive quickly. It wouldn’t hold his interest.
What about Facebook? He could always scroll through his news feed. Nope. That, too, is usually the same things over and over.
So, what then? What should he do?
It came to him in a flash. He’d write a blog post while on the toilet about writing a blog post while on the toilet. It was genius!
“Who killed my men?”
He was Andarious Trat. People didn’t do this kind of thing to his gang. They’d operated in the area with impunity for years. Those few who chose to fight back against him during that time had never come close to seriously hurting one of his people, never posed much of a threat. Now, a handful of his men lay dead on the side of the road.
“I don’t know, Andarious.”
“Find out. Not only did they kill my men, but they stole my chargers.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?”
“I will make them pay.”
They clung to him. No matter what he did, he couldn’t get them off his legs, arms, and back. Frantically, he brushed them away with his hands, but they didn’t budge. None of them seemed to be affected by his attempt.
He slapped at them this time. They moved a little, but they remained on him. Now, instead of frantic, he was angry. He was mad that they had the audacity to assault him so. They would pay for their transgression.
“What’s the matter?”
He gave her a look. “I need a lint roller. Your hair is everywhere.”
He could do nothing except hold her. Nothing he could say would make anything better. In situations like these, words do very little. She was hurting. She was devastated. Her heart being broken broke his heart.
He pulled her closer as she cried on his shoulder. Tears began forming in his eyes too, but he did his best to push them away. He wanted to be strong for her. He wanted to be there for whatever she needed.
He squeezed her tighter as he opened his mouth. Nothing came out. He was completely out of words.
She lowered her head against the heavy breeze. Her hair was flying in every direction. Of course, this had to be the day she was running late. She didn’t have a hair tie or a brush with her. The wind howled, sending her hair flying again.
It was a relief when she stepped inside the restaurant. Looking around, she saw that he was seated already. “I’m sorry,” she said as she sat down. “My hair is a mess.”
He took her face in his hands and brought her in for a passionate kiss. “I think you’ve never looked better.”