My BLFC entry
There is the outer space that contains moons, stars, planets, black holes and such that we are all familiar with from watching TV, but there is also an outer space of the soul, with its own collection of emotional COMSATs and frozen cosmonaut urine in decaying orbit around our superego planets, and it was into this inner outer space that Crosby Lamont Burlingame was about to step, leaving the airlock of his daily routine, with only about ten minutes of emotional oxygen.
Share yours…if you dare.
The clock ticked off the hours by the minute and the minutes by the second, but it felt like a calendar ticking off the months by the week and the weeks by the day because it took so long to for Dr. Hunipuppet to walk out to tell me that she was sorry and that they had tried everything they could as her cool stethoscope dangled into her warm cleavage exposed by the low cut of her leaf-green surgical scrubs.
Holy-Moley!!!!!!! 😉
The deep but brief panic that typically accompanies the moments before an accident that could have been avoided, but wasn’t, was starting to grip my sweat-soaked body as the poodle skirt clad hostess approached the faux-wood stand with a “smoking or non?” look in her emerald green eyes.
Good stuff. I hope those have been sent in.
The only way that any of us has even the slightest chance of taking home the big prize is if Donsquishydishimaharishiswineflueviti does not submit an entry.
Please don’t tell him about this thread.