glenn calls linda ;

glenn

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   ⓖⓛⓔⓝⓝ____ⓐⓥⓛⓞⓡⓔ

and

『o』『l』『e』『a』『n』『d』『o』『u』『r』

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glenn pursed his lips contemporarily,the phone his fingers curled at still could not grasp the noticeable difference.

christmas wasn't a festive season to him,not even close. he didn't care less what his granola thought of the same.

the remnants of the last time,when was it — yeah,hallowe'n that he felt full of himself and the things he got.

his grandfather,  granola the nickname, had a disease of dismantled faith. aside from developing a crispy neat language of programming and script, something glenn understood to the minimum, the old fellow had been nothing. nothing but a pain in the arse.

newyork was all about newness. new culture, new names. new nail art,new cuisines.

new ways of feeding one's rich arse life with loads of bullcrap,in glenn's distorted view point.

glenn didn't demand.

he was prone to believe dreams are live flashes of near future, if not emotions and motivations, the kinda shit psychoanalysis boasts about.

the thing is,glenn didn't reach the conclusion — whether to take it or leave it.

a new mobile.

a new message.

granola must have signified something through the same. it could be a fair number of things:

how to keep his only family updated on the ventures of his alcoholic mother.

or something unthought of,how to live a little cause college days hastily pass away according to many.

or cliche-ly implying that he cared how's he's been doing.

glenn's job wasn't overthinkin'. not at all,not anymore.

his slender lips release a negligible cloud of smoke,he laid on the floor edge smoking. his hands couldn't resist,neither of the wealthy person status holders.

the imported cigar,the just-manufactured mobile,glenn stubbornly debated with his subconscious.

to hold it or to let go?

glenn scolded himself. the signs of his subconsciousness losing slowly worked him up all of a sudden. he scornfully disposed the cigar stick into a ash tray,the one thing that symbolized his existence.

god,he is wasted upon a cigarette of...

well,the actual worth was unknown. though that didn't stop him from checking the heath hazards. googling it,on to the mark.

maybe he can have the phone,it wasn't much. much of a necessity to glenn. a small luxury item,that's all it would ever be.

golden case,air pods and two other things that beyond glenn's  familiarity point. he plugged it in a charger nearby.

avodade.

pre-installed apps saved hassle on his part,he admitted that. however, a dating app is the last thing he needs right now.

bored and sulk,glenn's fingers slid over the screen,tenderly hovering above the small icon.

avocados were delicious. a farm laid on the west of the suburbs, or so his dad's made up stories. of little tomato sire,the permissive guy and holiday man who likes to work on sunday.

glenn internally smiled. a little. nostalgia hit him like a bag of bricks. if only —

23 messages?

give him a break. he blinked. in an alternate universe, surely he'd be mr popular. this one? no chance.

social life made him gag. haha.

hiii

hello

glenn avlore,are you for real?

you sound hot as shit. friends?

hi,wassup

your grandfather invented digital clock....?

glenn didn't think twice before rolling eyes. ugh,perhaps dumping the junk was a more glenn-like thing to do.

he sat up,giving up slumping against the plain wall,the view outside was pretty. skylines work for clearing heads too.

they seldom do mood lifting.

outside world looked three dimensional, inside? nope,no luck.
people breezily huddling, city of lights evident, roads full of hurrying taxis coated yellow and the main street mesmerized him.

almost.

a bundle of children ran across the opposite direction to his,his eyes glued to the smitten faces. of both their parents and themselves.

glenn sighed wistfully.

the phone dinged once again. glenn narrowed down his gaze dryly. surprisingly, this one got to him.

xmas tim3 ! pose a bicture of the ball droping iff u're there,

xoxo
Linda:

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