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 Posted: Sun Sep 15, 2013 5:51 pm
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Posted: Sun Sep 15, 2013 9:52 pm
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Chance glared at his new house with a glass stare, his eyes taking in every detail of the building. The gutters were rusted, the house had tan and brown stones decorating the exterior walls, and the roof was an ugly grey color. Disgusting, he thought as he kicked his heel into the grass, where he dug up some dirt. From inside, he could hear his father yell at him. It was his father's job, after all, to keep this place spick-and-span perfect for his chance at ever getting the job to design country clubs.
Chance liked cities, and here were the reasons why. There were diversities of people, and it didn't really matter if you were a stoner or a drug addict like himself, as there were several others in one classroom. But in an itty bitty little country town, he doubted he could find anyone worth smoking a joint with.
He ran a hand through his thick and musky dark brown hair before he turned his head to the side, looking down the long dirt road that was in front of their driveway. Such a cheap little place they couldn't pave the roads, huh. He pressed his lips together tightly as he dug a hand into his pocket and retrieved his lighter and pack of smokes, then put the cigarette in between his two lips. He quickly lighted it, then tilted his head back, tucking his fingers into his jean pockets.
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