Post by wesdaniels on Jul 29, 2009 15:07:28 GMT -5
I ' V E B E E N T O T H E E D G E
y e s i ' v e b e e n t o t h e e d g e.
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T H E P A S T I S A L L T H A T ' S G O N E,
t h e f u t u r e i s y e t t o c o m e.
[/color][/center]y e s i ' v e b e e n t o t h e e d g e.
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T H E P A S T I S A L L T H A T ' S G O N E,
t h e f u t u r e i s y e t t o c o m e.
The dark gray clouds were all that was the dry Monday night, it wasn't often that Wes found himself back tracking through a foreign country, foreign to him at least. He had begun to feel that America was a little bland, too lost in its drunken wasteland. Wes found that he would probably do better to stick to what he did in America, go and drink. At least there he could finally break apart his minds puzzle and get down to what he thought would be his final solution. He was in Europe to see his homeland, and England was definitely not his homeland. He would have to stay a couple of days here apparently since the plane he had taken from America made a unfortunate stop here in London. Everyone had been dressed so... uptight, business men he assumed. It wasn't often that Wes wore a suit, but today, a lot of things had seemed different. The way the clouds displayed their humor on leaving him in this different place, if it wasn't for the giant storm headed their way, he'd be half way to Austria right now. Thank goodness it was near his other destination, Germany. Wesley's father was a rather odd man, and frankly Wes didn't really know much about him other than his love for music. So, who better than his father's family to tell him what he was like. As for his mother, that was the other reason he was down here in Europe.
The thing was, Wesley and his family hadn't been the most tightly knotted people on the planet, especially because of the racial indifference. His mother and father had a divorce in the past sourly based on the racial indifference between them, which was probably why his mother had moved back to Austria. Wes shook those thoughts from his mind though, running a hand through his brown hair, he decided to finally walk into the pub. When he sat down he was met with an extraordinary thick British accent, it was almost heaven on the ears, you didn't hear much of this in America. "What can I do for you?," her voice rang in his ear and it took him a moment to realize that she'd been talking to him. With a light smile he looked up to meet her gaze, a Blondie that was weird. He'd always made this assumption that British women were brunettes. With a like chuckle he just reached into his wallet and pulled an American ten dollar bill. "Your finest brew please," there really wasn't much he could say because frankly he didn't know any kind of beer in Britain.
Cautiously he waited, watching as the door swung open and closed as faceless people walked by him. He didn't know them, so there was no point in taking in what they had to say or what they were doing. It was bar talk, and Wes wanted nothing to do with it, there was no point for him. As the cold, damp, bottle was slid across the table, he gripped the side and decided to open it. The bottles were slightly larger here than in America, but Wes didn't mind that at all, at least he got his money's worth.
The thing was, Wesley and his family hadn't been the most tightly knotted people on the planet, especially because of the racial indifference. His mother and father had a divorce in the past sourly based on the racial indifference between them, which was probably why his mother had moved back to Austria. Wes shook those thoughts from his mind though, running a hand through his brown hair, he decided to finally walk into the pub. When he sat down he was met with an extraordinary thick British accent, it was almost heaven on the ears, you didn't hear much of this in America. "What can I do for you?," her voice rang in his ear and it took him a moment to realize that she'd been talking to him. With a light smile he looked up to meet her gaze, a Blondie that was weird. He'd always made this assumption that British women were brunettes. With a like chuckle he just reached into his wallet and pulled an American ten dollar bill. "Your finest brew please," there really wasn't much he could say because frankly he didn't know any kind of beer in Britain.
Cautiously he waited, watching as the door swung open and closed as faceless people walked by him. He didn't know them, so there was no point in taking in what they had to say or what they were doing. It was bar talk, and Wes wanted nothing to do with it, there was no point for him. As the cold, damp, bottle was slid across the table, he gripped the side and decided to open it. The bottles were slightly larger here than in America, but Wes didn't mind that at all, at least he got his money's worth.
Tag your it - anyone
Word Count - 541
now for the Outfit - Business Suit
Lyric Credit - ' EIFFEL 65 The Edge, Now Is Forever
Image Credit - Google
Template Credit -Strawberry Jam! of The Blank Pages &CAUTION 2.0
