- Invitation Status
- Look for groups
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Writing Levels
- Elementary
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Advanced
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Primarily Prefer Male
- Genres
- I like most. However, I have found I am most comfortable with Fantasy, Sci-fi, Fandom, and Modern.
"Order up, table 8, let's keep it moving Kennedy!" a voice bellowed.
The young man, of about 20 years, grabs the two plates. Thankfully, this would be the last serving that wasn't his. The couple seemed happy with their arrival of meat and potatoes.
"Enjoy your meal, guys." He said with a nod.
With their nod, he slipped off into the kitchen.
"Way to finish strong, my boy!" bellowed the voice again.
"Thanks, Mr. Stone."
They exchanged a high-five. The sound of the clap could be barely heard outside. Every time Kennedy went for it, he regretted it. The man's hand felt like it was harder than his name. His hand turned red, from the force.
"Don't worry about dishes tonight. I can take care of it. It's the weekend after all." Mr. Stone declared.
"Thanks, Mr. Stone."
With that, he clocked out. He wasn't as exhausted, as usual. The rain did help to calm him though. The beat of the sounds reminded him of a song. The name escaped him. His hands kept a grip on his check. It was his lifeforce. He loved the city, but when you live long enough, you realize that you can't always trust everyone. Everyone's face had something different. Some were busy, while others were almost to careless to walk. Not paying attention, the young man nearly runs into someone.
"Sorry." He said quickly....
The young man, of about 20 years, grabs the two plates. Thankfully, this would be the last serving that wasn't his. The couple seemed happy with their arrival of meat and potatoes.
"Enjoy your meal, guys." He said with a nod.
With their nod, he slipped off into the kitchen.
"Way to finish strong, my boy!" bellowed the voice again.
"Thanks, Mr. Stone."
They exchanged a high-five. The sound of the clap could be barely heard outside. Every time Kennedy went for it, he regretted it. The man's hand felt like it was harder than his name. His hand turned red, from the force.
"Don't worry about dishes tonight. I can take care of it. It's the weekend after all." Mr. Stone declared.
"Thanks, Mr. Stone."
With that, he clocked out. He wasn't as exhausted, as usual. The rain did help to calm him though. The beat of the sounds reminded him of a song. The name escaped him. His hands kept a grip on his check. It was his lifeforce. He loved the city, but when you live long enough, you realize that you can't always trust everyone. Everyone's face had something different. Some were busy, while others were almost to careless to walk. Not paying attention, the young man nearly runs into someone.
"Sorry." He said quickly....