shortstoriesbytallperson

[shortstoriesbytallperson]

[shortstoriesbytallperson]

Plot outline: Shenton

Small-town IT genius finally lands a job in a multinational software and computing company in the CBD.

It’s his second job so he still has a bit of naivete when it comes to office politics.

It was a great two first weeks in his new office, and work hasn’t piled up yet. But after the second week the cracks begin to show.

In one corner, Joanna, the office loudspeaker and her band of loudmouthed ‘cool’ personalities.

In another corner, Thomas and his too cool for school group of dramatic hystericals. Boss: “Get your act together, Thomas!”

And on one side, the pathetic apathetic party. Do not cross them, only speak in professional tones, and absolutely no questions apart from work.

All collide into one finely tuned, beautiful mess. Small town IT genius has to pick a side and make his way to the top, while battling sabotage-friendly competitors just down the street.. 

Can he survive Shenton?

[shortstoriesbytallperson]

Leave a carrot out for the foxes, hunny.

What you see: Snowman What the fox sees: All you can eat buffet

[shortstoriesbytallperson]

Love Story no 15

She was ill for a while. She was lonely.

They met, but by a stroke of chance.

She was still ill but no one knew what it was.

Her illness ill-defined, raw, unsettling.

While on the other hand, She was happy, furnished with love, on hair’s end.

They both met, two lives intertwined.

One has what the other hadn’t, while the other was all but fine.

Her illness gone, now magic increases

O how healthy living feels like the breezes

One couple in time, in a place refined

That boorish behaviour found its way back from the sidelines.

Like magic fairy dust turned stars in the wind

The ashes of attraction will turn hope into a spring.

#impromptu poetry

[shortstoriesbytallperson]

Why is dude food so unhealthy?

To prove to other dudes you so healthy, you don’t need healthy food. You man enough to handle diabetes, heart attacks and stroke.

[shortstoriesbytallperson]

New Pen Names

Chrystalla Seranella

Francisco L. Jules

Ki Moblood

Kev L. Slasher

Konstantinos Hondaki

Geraldine Kilove

Dr. Antares Kison

Loo O’ Daytona

#random weird pennames

[shortstoriesbytallperson]

Can’t just go around comparing apples to oranges like that

Full Image - Twitter - Bonus - YouTube

[shortstoriesbytallperson]

The Bold Vase

A Short Story by Mo Loo 

(A modification of a story generated by https://www.plot-generator.org.uk)

Rufus Lorey was thinking about Imelda Curry again. Imelda was a naive crafter with muscular thighs and a pert butt.

Rufus walked over to the window and reflected on his vulgar surroundings. He had always hated the ostentatious Hilton Hotel with its grim, gorgeous Golden wallpaper. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel frustrated.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the a naive visage of Imelda Curry.

Rufus gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a snivelling, hysterical, bubble tea drinker with plump thighs and a voluptuous butt. His friends saw him as a beautiful, broken buffoon. Once, he had even rescued a deaf paraplegic from a burning building.

But not even a snivelling person who had once rescued a deafening paraplegic from a burning building was prepared for what Imelda had in store today.

The clouds teased the sky like bounding oxen, making Rufus spiteful of their freedom to take the shape of such an irrational appearance. Rufus grabbed a bold vase that had been strewn nonchalantly nearby; he massaged it nervously with his fingers.

As Rufus stepped outside and Imelda came closer, he could see a raspy glint in her eye.

"Look Rufus," growled Imelda, with a paranoid glare that reminded Rufus of a naive hippo. "It's not that I don't love you, but I want ownership of your company. You owe me 5519 rupees."

Rufus looked back, even more spiteful and still fingering the bold vase. "Imelda, you suck," he replied.

They looked at each other with exasperated feelings, like two damaged, dizzy deer leaping at a very optimistic death anniversary of their third aunt, which had annoying emotional shoegaze music playing in the background and two fiery uncles sashaying to the haphazard beats.

Rufus regaled Imelda's muscular thighs and pert butt. "I don't have the funds ..." he lied.

Imelda glared. "Do you want me to shove that bold vase where the sun don't shine?"

Rufus promptly remembered his snivelling and hysterical values. "Actually, I do have the funds," he admitted. He reached into his pockets. "Here's what I owe you."

Imelda looked hapless, her wallet billowing up like a pleasant, panicky pillow.

Then Imelda came inside for a nice drink of bubble tea.

THE END

#fiction trashfic generatedfiction wth betterlovestorythantwilight