Create a new version of paste:

He watched as clouds began to stitch the holes between the sky and the earth. The many warm rays of the sun were covered up with gray puffs, as if one had called upon a terrible omen. People hurried home on the streets, expecting hail and rain to fall from the heavens at any moment. 

With bated breath, he waited, then watched as the first few flakes fell from the sky and melted on the ground.

“Yes! Yes, finally! It’s heeeeeeere!”

As the snow drifted down, he rushed through his apartment to get all he needed to enjoy going out. Phone? Check! Cozy sweater? Check! Mittens, hat, coat! Check, check, and check! Wallet? Right where it should be! And finally, laptop? Got it, nice and snug in his messenger bag! 

After wiping off all the dirt and crud that accumulated over his glasses for what felt like the tenth time today, he was ready to go, heart swelling with excitement to find someplace new and enjoy the winter weather-

Beep. Beep. Beep.

That was all it took for his heart to sink to the pits of his stomach. His hand trembled a little as he reached for his phone, pudgy fingers messing up his passcode as he tried to unlock it. After the third try, though, he saw the messages left behind by a ‘Justin’ and paled.

“Lol hey Brandon can u do me a favor

some guy wuz gettin’ in my face ‘bout money so I fucked ‘em up

so i’m in jail again, so help a bro out with bail plz”

Brandon couldn’t tell if his hand was trembling from how cold it was or from frustration. Again, really? The bail was probably set higher this time, and besides, punching a debt collector is never a good idea. Except to Justin. Of course it was Justin.

For one moment, Brandon had a moment of weakness. He couldn’t just leave his friend to suffer. Not helping him out would surely lead to tears and drama, leaving him with one less friend to hang out with. And Justin was cool sometimes! Sometimes.

Then he remembered that New York rent wasn’t cheap. Neither is bail.

The only reply he gave was a firm “No” before he set out, muting and pocketing his phone before his friend decided to pull a guilt trip.


Battling wintery winds while walking down busy sidewalks and maybe, almost getting hit by a car, was absolutely worth having a cup of coffee in your hands, some grub in your belly, and a cat denying you the privilege of using your laptop. 

The brown tabby purred in satisfaction as it rolled over Brandon’s laptop and sprinkled “ajlkadjlkgjljs” in the script he was attempting to edit. He tried to roll the cat off his laptop, but one cannot easily remove a cat from someplace so warm. Brute force would not work in this situation. He needed another plan.

And what better plan did he have than fetching a pouch of catnip from the pile of toys sitting in a pot and dangling it close to his new fuzzy friend? 

“Come here, coooome here,” he said, the brown tabby stretching as far as it can go to try to sniff the pouch. Brandon pulled his hand back, back, back until the cat stood up, its tail swishing to and fro. “That’s it, good kitty, kitty…” And with a good flick of the wrist, the pouch flew across the room, the cat scrambling off the laptop to chase after it. At last, his laptop was free!

Although now, the hero in this script was not just battling a giant iguana, they were fighting the dreaded “ mcvuhfm j ,lik/.;” and “./l;’ agfkli”, too. With a “,ployhuah”, no less. Nothing a little Ctrl-Z couldn’t fix! 

For a while, this was all okay.  It was nice and toasty, he had a nice cup o’ joe, an orange tabby paid him a visit and headbutted his hands and face. Everything was perfect.

Then his reservation was up, and he was out on the streets, his glasses fogging over and blinding him for at least 10 seconds before he took them off and wiped them off. A pang of wistfulness overcame him as he looked back towards the café. If only he had a longer reservation. But there were more things to do, right? If nothing else, he could always go back to his favorite soup spot for the next few hours. Or check out the art museum. Maybe a library? Brandon pulled out his phone, eager to find out what events were going on around town-

“man fuck u, you don’t even do shit. you got all that money goin’ to feedin ur fat ass, u can spare some to help a bro out”

Curiosity was replaced by an extreme urge to apologize. Brandon considered typing out an elaborate reply. It would be so sincere, there was no way Justin couldn’t forgive him! Of course! Then they could be buddy pals for the rest of their lives!

Yes. Buddy pals! Where one of them threatens a gang member, and the other has to apologize profusely and pay up to make sure his friend didn’t get beaten to death! And where one keeps asking for money to help with debt while the other is struggling to stay out of debt! And of course, never paying the other back for the favors or even giving a simple ‘thanks’.

After two minutes of deliberation that it didn’t deserve, there was a simple verdict for this case. 

Block.

The wind howled as the snow fell in droves now, Brandon covering his head of black hair with his snug, blue hat and hurrying home before the snow got worse. There was no sense in going out anymore if it was going to get worse. Especially with nobody to hang out with, nobody to meet, nobody to see.

When at last he reached and opened his apartment door after struggling to use the key with mittens on, he sighed. Nobody else was here, as always. Nothing to distract him much from his thoughts aside from the blistery winds outside. 

And for the rest of the day, all he could do was edit writings, knit a few hats, and sketch a few pictures of cute bunnies and cats, trying his hardest to outpace the loneliness and anxiety creeping into his heart.