Part of a story idea:
I think at first you're wondering what a moy is. Yes, I'm the character and I have to tell you about the title. It came to me one day. Men who still have hearts of boys and love of boys are called Moys. Because well they haven't grown up much. Today, I'm going through my daily routine looking through the e-mail, surfing the web seeing if interesting news articles are out. There is one e-mail from the one I crush on, yes even men my age crush on woman their age. Melissa and she writes:
I need someone. I feel so empty.
Okay actually that was my dramatic summarization. I zip off the chair fix my chocolate brown hair, put on some jeans, fix my shirt, and make sure I didn't look like I just woke up.
I clearly remember doing all of this as well as speeding down a highway, not getting caught by the police may I add. Only because I slowed down every time I saw them up ahead. I turned into her neighborhood and my car stops working. Well runs out of gas really. So I decide to just open the door and I start running down the sidewalk. Many people may see this an odd occasion. Isolated moy running down a neighborhood. I personally think many should just hide their children from me.
I see that brown house and knock on the door. Melissa answers her eyes filled with that despair in her eyes.
“I'm glad you came,” Melissa said.
And then I realize this doesn't quite fit her personality. Aw shucks, another dream of the same situation again.
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