The first story. The very first one. A flag planted upon the hill of creativity. As I drop a handfull of eccies intae room temperature original lucozade and get ready to type for 24 hours (not solidly like, i do have SOME minor physical imperfections that ould prevent this) here we go. The first story will be exactly the first shit that pops into my head. I'm hoping its formulating as I type this wee intro, we shall see. Firstly though. This is for charity, and here's where you give SAMH money if you so wish.
https://www.justgiving.com/Martin-Smith46
So aye. The thing. The story thing.
"Its me or the gear!"
Mandy was fucking sick of it. Week after week she'd get herself drunk off the notion that Paul might notice her for long enough to suggest they do something together. A wee meal or something. They used to be such a special couple too. That couple that you look at actually enjoying each other's company in a restaraunt and immediately think "fuck yees" but it was all gone. A distant memory, because Paul loved one thing more than anything else. More than his family, friends, work colleagues, and his significant other. Poor Mandy. Paul no longer thirsted for her. He no longer felt a yearning to have her in his arms. Too busy. Too preoccupied with his mind set on one thing and one thing only.
The gear.
That thing that has you in its sweaty deathgrip from the first minute you try it. Almost feels like a layer of material wedged to your skin. Leaving you a sodden, horrible, hopeless mess. Once you sink underneath and reach the point of no return, its almost like the gear sustains you. Keeps your head above water in a figurative sense, even though the thing keeping you alive is the thing ruining your life at the same time. At least, that was the case for Paul.
This was one time too many though, as he packed the gear into a bag and headed to a mates house to put it to good use, he was met by Mandy in the hallway they shared. Bags packed. Hamster in its cage. Tinned goods in a cardboard box. She was finished. She was too choked up to say much. After all, she loved and cared about Paul. This was a 12 year marraige going down the tubes. So she thought she'd give it one last go.
"Paul...make a choice...its me or the gear"
Paul was frozen to the spot.....he let 30 seconds slip by before letting out a hugely unconvincing "eh....." as Mandy slammed the door behind her. Suppose that's what the gear does to you eh. Slows down your reaction time. Makes you less aware of the impact your actions have.
As Mandy walked out the door, taking the hamster with her.
And Paul went scuba diving.
(ye see...the "gear" is a westsuit and breathing appartus...thats the joke)
https://www.justgiving.com/Martin-Smith46
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