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@gh07st
𖥻GH07ST [ ... ] SIMON “GHOST” RILEY FROM CALL OF DUTY: MODERN WARFARE, BY JAY. ( HE/HIM, 25YRS, PST ) MATURE CONTENT AHEAD, DISCRETION ADVISED. VERY LOW QUEUE BASED ACTIVITY. SELECTIVE + NOT AFFILIATED WITH THE RPC. REBOOT & HEADCANON INSPIRED. PROMPTS.
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random settings: a shrine built by someone who wouldn't let go. / valeria
DOCUMENT ID 26.601.B ❯ PROMPT, ACCEPTING.
𝙻𝙰𝚂 𝙰𝙻𝙼𝙰𝚂 𝙲𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝙻 𝚂𝙰𝙵𝙴 𝙷𝙾𝚄𝚂𝙴, 𝙰𝙻 𝙼𝙰𝚉𝚁𝙰𝙷. 𝙳𝙰𝚃𝙴 𝚁𝙴𝙳𝙰𝙲𝚃𝙴𝙳, 2200. The search for El Sin Nombre had ended here. Down a dirt road, in some unremarkable one-story home towards the outskirts of Al Mazrah. Frankly, he'd expected something more, if her house in Mexico had been any indication. The grand, sweeping hallways she once roamed in a display of infinite wealth and blood money had disintegrated into a small quaint existence on the run. Alone in this room together, she seemed almost human. It might have been the way she knelt before the ofrenda, surrounded by her prayer candles and incense lit aflame. Mountains of vibrant flowers were stacked high on the shelves, framing the lonesome pictures of what he could only assume were her dead relatives. Platters of fruit, sweets, and sugar skulls were littered in between as offerings for the deceased, with the thick smell of copal permeating the air.
We can talk here, but we can't fight here. Ghost wasn't quite sure what it was about the assertion that made him agree to the fleeting and temporary truce. Maybe it was the sanctity of the space, maybe it was her vulnerability … or perhaps, just the distinct lack of weapons on her end. Whatever it was, it made him lower his gun. He didn't like her, but damn if she wasn't useful. ❛ … I need information. ❜
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ©
"the guy's dead anyway." have we considered jordi chin, trained killer, and that shiny new au of yours and how jordi works a lot with criminal organizations on contract basis -
DOCUMENT ID 26.604.A ❯ PROMPT, ACCEPTING.
He was supposed to be alone here. The job was, by its nature, a solitary one. Part of what had made it appealing to him was the lack of conversation, because dead men don't speak … even if they did have an interesting story to tell. A living, breathing person sitting cross legged on top of a crate was never meant to be part of the deal. Or at least, it hadn't been until now. Evidently this fixer was one of the many cogs in a dark underground machine that kept the bloodbaths rolling and the cash flow steady — only now, he was demanding to check behind the cleaner's work, if only to insist on a job well done. While the reputation of the elusive Ghost often preceded the real man behind the silent spectre, he could not blame the other for wanting to make damn sure. Fortunately for him, asking questions would never be part of Simon's job description. Quite the opposite, really … he made questions disappear.
❛ Doesn't mean I want to deal with any more broken limbs than I have to. ❜ Simon huffs the words out from behind a flimsy paper face mask, slinging the pure deadweight of a man over his shoulder in one heaving swoop as he makes his way to the bin. ❛ Makes it harder to transport 'em neatly if they're in a bad position once the rigor mortis sets in. ❜
He liked them stacked like a row of dominos; straight and narrow, in a line, zipped into a body bag before they're sent to the incinerator. Bad posture didn't fit in that image, and neither did the cracked, disjointed limbs of excessive postmortem battery.
❛ For a contract killer, you're not very good at keeping quiet. ❜
PROMPTS FROM TRAINSPOTTING * assorted dialogue from the 1996 film, adjust as necessary
the truth is that i'm a bad person. but that's gonna change. i'm going to change.
now i'm cleaning up and i'm moving on, going straight and choosing life.
the streets are awash with drugs you can have for unhappiness and pain, and we took them all.
choose life. choose a job. choose a career. choose a family.
why would i want to do a thing like that?
i chose not to choose life. i chose something else.
the reasons? there are no reasons.
doesn't it make you proud to be scottish?
i've justified this to myself in all sorts of ways.
it wasn't a big deal, just a minor betrayal.
why did i do it? i could offer a million answers, all false.
i'm looking forward to it already.
i'm gonna be just like you.
excuse me. i don't mean to harass you, but i was very impressed with the capable and stylish manner in which you dealt with that situation.
i was thinking to myself, now this girl's special.
what's your name?
i'm going home.
i'll come back with you if you like, but like, i'm not promising anything, you know.
do you find that this approach usually works?
let me guess, you've never tried it before.
you don't normally approach girls, am i right?
personality, i mean that's what counts, right?
sounds great to me.
our only response was to keep on going and "fuck everything."
no matter how often you go out and rob and fuck people over, you always need to get up and do it all over again.
what are you two talking about?
no more. i'm finished with that shite.
gonna get it right this time. gonna get it sorted out.
i sure have heard that one before.
people think it's all about misery and desperation and death and all that shit which is not to be ignored, but what they forget is the pleasure of it. otherwise we wouldn't do it.
we're not fucking stupid. at least, we're not that fucking stupid.
now i'm ready.
what's on the menu this evening?
who the fuck are you?
did you bring the cards?
you're not getting any younger. the world's changing. music's changing
the guy's dead anyway.
the point is, you've got to find something new.
what do you mean?
at one time, you've got it, and then you lose it, and it's gone forever.
what's the point you're trying to make?
that means fuck all.
so we all get old and then we can't hack it anymore. is that it?
what attracts you to the leisure industry?
do you mean that you lied on your application?
i paid for the tickets!
it's all about aesthetics and it's fuck all to do with morality.
it seems, however, i really am the luckiest guy in the world.
what the fuck are these?
that's all i've got. take it or leave it.
i want a fucking hit.
i quite enjoyed the sound of it all.
for all the good they've done me, i might as well have stuck them up my arse.
for the first time in my adult life i was almost content.
useless motherfucker, that's what she called me.
i'm sorry, but these things happen. let's put it behind us.
you were quite happy to do a lot more last night.
calm down. you're not going to jail.
if you don't see me again, i'll tell the police.
i can't believe you did that.
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"What are you looking at me like that for?"
DOCUMENT ID 26.530.C ❯ PROMPT, ACCEPTING.
The rigid and tender pang of jealousy had buried itself in his gut ages ago, yet it seemed to fester and spread just as quickly as it had arrived. It was a virus, doubling and tripling itself until it had overwhelmed his mind. Somehow, he couldn't find it in himself to look away now, watching what felt like a car wreck as the twinges of envy paralyzed him completely. There he sat like a statue, still and unmoving, fingers clamped around a fork until his knuckles turned white from the pressure. Skin stretched tight around the shape of a fist. The deadened stare he'd cast out rested somewhere firmly between a vacant glare and the sort of look one might find in a shark's eyes whilst they swim through the blood infested waters. Waiting, hoping, praying for an opportune moment to attack anything that moved.
The incessant chatter of the mess hall seemed to slow down around him and fade into the background altogether as he zeroed in on the traded whispers between Price and Private Dipshit #47. There were things he could not articulate about how he felt, though he suspected maybe it wouldn't have bothered him as much if he knew why. Why he hadn't been chosen, why Price seemed determined to die in the hands and arms of strangers. On second thought, maybe it would bother him more if he did know.
( 𝙿𝚄𝙻𝙻 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳 𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝙾𝙵 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙰𝚂𝚂, 𝚁𝙸𝙻𝙴𝚈. )
It wasn't until Price spoke, locking them into the dance of eye contact, that Simon was drawn out from the thoughts clouding his head like a fucking smoke grenade. What are you looking at me like that for? The question was provocative, stirring about as close to an emotional reaction as anyone could pry from him, yet there was nothing he could do — not here, anyway. Not now. Slowly, slowly … his grip around the cutlery loosened, dropping it into the tray of flavorless slop below.
❛ Nothing, sir. ❜ Gravelly tones are hushed behind the layers of the mask, yet firm and unwavering in what they assert. His appetite had vanished almost instantaneously, gripping the tray as he stood to cross to the trash with a smooth, subtle level of urgency. ❛ Enjoy your trip. ❜
[TXT] : that's not an excuse.
DOCUMENT ID 26.530.B ❯ PROMPT, ACCEPTING.
[ 𝖲𝖬𝖲 → 𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗖𝗘 ] Well, I thought it was solid.
[ 𝖲𝖬𝖲 → 𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗖𝗘 ] Fine. New excuse. I don’t want to go to some fucking mess ball with a bunch of NCO pricks. So I won’t.
[ 𝖲𝖬𝖲 → 𝗣𝗥𝗜𝗖𝗘 ] Happy?
licks u
Slurps your brain out through your nose.
"What was it that gave me away?" / mace
DOCUMENT ID 26.601.A ❯ PROMPT, ACCEPTING.
It had crept up on him like a wave of nausea, that feeling. The gut reaction of knowing intimately and immediately that he was somewhere … lurking, pulling strings. What this incredibly temporary alliance had evoked from him, he couldn't tell. It blurred every line between anger and relief, colored only by the deep impressions of distrust that he'd reaped and sowed. His gift of betrayal was one that kept on giving, eating away at his insides and leaving a hollow ache behind. Looking at him now, all Ghost felt was a withering sensation of numbness. Bitterness. Humor, even, if he could allow himself to recognize it. Though, those pieces were better left buried deep where their once overwhelming sense of camaraderie had been laid to waste.
❛ Everything. ❜ Ghost snaps his words out with fine precision, calculating gaze steady behind his mask. Alert, yet relaxed, finger resting just above the trigger. ❛ Bloody smiley faces were a nice touch. ❜
When was the last time they'd been alone in a room together? He couldn't recall, and he supposed this hardly counted as being alone … Shadows crawling everywhere, dressed and ready to play the role of judge, jury, and executioner. Well ... all except one.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤ❛ What, you get tired of being Graves's fuckin’ lapdog? ❜
bites
Gnaws your hands off.
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a dive bar that smells like smoke and regret.
DOCUMENT ID 26.530.A ❯ PROMPT, ACCEPTING.
The flickering warm amber lights barely illuminated the room around them, casting a dim soft glow on the horrendously patterned carpet that had seen its fair share of vomit and spilled pints throughout the years. The walls were half wainscoting, half pennant streamers tacked up in support of the local football team, which did nothing to alleviate the air of total contrition. He supposed if there was ever a place to make a string of bad decisions, this would definitely be it. The world seemed no less tame outside the pub than in, with drunken strangers steadily trickling down the pavement and past the windows like a loud river stream. Here, smoke seemed to cling to the quiet chatter of the other patrons, who buzzed in the background like a never-ending electrical current. From his seat at the bar, he could pinpoint with some accuracy about six overlapping conversations; to his left, there was a couple on their first date sat in the nearby booth — both far too drunk, and both in for a heavy load of sheer disappointment come morning. At his seven o'clock, there's a group of rowdy university students celebrating a birthday. Some girl named Amy, forced to be polite about the evidently very shit gift Louise had gotten her. The list went on, each snagging bits and pieces of his attention as time went by.
When his focus zeroed back in, all he noted was the wet rings of condensation that stained the coaster underneath his lone beer. He was only having the one. In fact, he only ever had just the one. It was a subconscious exercise in self-control, really. He was giving himself a small taste of the thing that he wanted, without ever really allowing himself to actually have much of it at all. Staving off the desires, the impulses, and exerting his restraint over it. It's how he approached just about everything in his life, every little temptation that threatened his pristine levels of control. Just to see if he could. Just to see how much he could toe the line.
Sitting next to Price felt a little bit like an extension of that exercise in self-control. Simon's body stiffened in the stool that was far too small for him, with every minuscule, barely-there shift in stature sending their knees into a miniature collision beneath the counter top. The exhaustion that had steeped into his bones only made the muscles in his shoulders tighten further, as if resisting the aches that always inevitably came after a mission like that.
Hell ... maybe he really was getting too old for this shit. ( The knife strapped to his thigh said otherwise. )
❛ Thought we might not make it out that time. ❜ Simon speaks with an almost wistful quality as he turns the lukewarm pint glass in his hand, peering into the dark bitter ale. It's a rough admission, but not one that he's scared to make. Slowly, he lifts the edges of his mask, stopping just above the lips as he takes another sip and speaks. ❛ I owe you one. ❜
#br4vo6 is an independent, selective, & heavily headcanon-based interpretation of 𝙲𝙰𝙿𝚃. 𝙹𝙾𝙷𝙽 𝙿𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙴 of the 𝙲𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝙾𝙵 𝙳𝚄𝚃𝚈: 𝙼𝙾𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙽 𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙵𝙰𝚁𝙴 series. due to the source media, this blog features heavily triggering themes. please read rules before interacting. this blog is disassociated from the source fandom. © mun is over the age of 25. minors & personals dni.
ᝰ🚬 𝚉𝙰𝙲𝙷𝚁𝙿 .ᐟ RANDOM TEXT MESSAGE PROMPTS. CHANGE ANY PRONOUNS IF NECESSARY. SOME MATURE THEMES MAY BE PRESENT.
[TXT] : answer the question.
[TXT] : you left your jacket here.
[TXT] : ignore that last message.
[TXT] : must be my fault somehow.
[TXT] : this was a bad idea but i'm doing it anyway.
[TXT] : guess i misunderstood the vibe.
[TXT] : i'm only texting you because i'm drunk.
[TXT] : i can't stop thinking about your hands.
[TXT] : you're not gonna believe this..
[TXT] : i'm blushing shut up.
[TXT] : okay wait no don't answer that.
[TXT] : i didn't say anything because i didn't want to argue.
[TXT] : be honest with me.
[TXT] : are you free tonight?
[TXT] : i'll explain later, just call me now!
[TXT] : i like it when you looked at me like that.
[TXT] : i should stop texting before this escalates.
[TXT] : i keep rereading that message.
[TXT] : are you trying to distract me on purpose.
[TXT] : i hate that you were right.
[TXT] : you'd be so proud of me right now and also disappointed.
[TXT] : cheers to bad decisions.
[TXT] : i had a dream about you.
[TXT] : i thought you were coming?
[TXT] : wow that's crazy.
[TXT] : it's whatever honestly.
[TXT] : your stuff is still here.
[TXT] : open the door.
[TXT] : what are you doing right now?
[TXT] : don't screenshot this.
[TXT] : don't make me ask twice.
[TXT] : i'm grabbing coffee, want one?
[TXT] : what are we?
[TXT] : no really it's fine.
[TXT] : you don't have to lie.
[TXT] : i don't feel great.
[TXT] : don't rush i've only been waiting.
[TXT] : i forgot the grocery list.
[TXT] : don't do this over text.
[TXT] : did i do something wrong?
[TXT] : i don't trust myself around you.
[TXT] : running late sorry.
[TXT] : you make it hard to be good.
[TXT] : i told myself i wouldn't text you tonight.
[TXT] : are you mad at me.
[TXT] : please answer me.
[TXT] : i told you not to do that.
[TXT] : can i come over?
[TXT] : i'm outside.
[TXT] : you're being unfair.
[TXT] : that's not an excuse.
[TXT] : can you stay on the phone with me?
[TXT] : are you busy?
[TXT] : please tell me you're okay.
[TXT] : i think i fucked up.
[TXT] : i need to vent.
[TXT] : do you want food?
[TXT] : this is messing with my head.
[TXT] : i should not be imagining this right now.
[TXT] : are you mad at me?
[TXT] : please say something.
[TXT] : can you lie for me?
[TXT] : i found your keys!
[TXT] : i just thought you'd let me know.
[TXT] : i know you're awake.
[TXT] : stay the night.
[TXT] : you look good and you know it.
[TXT] : this reminded me of you!
[TXT] : this conversation is not helping my self control.
[TXT] : i love how you only respond when it's convenient.
[TXT] : i love you and i hate that i love you.
[TXT] : you left me on read.
[TXT] : i cleared my schedule.
[TXT] : i can't keep doing this.
[TXT] : are you alone?
[TXT] : stuck in traffic.
[TXT] : you could've just said no.
[TXT] : i don't want to be alone.
[TXT] : who are you with?
[TXT] : something has to change.
[TXT] : if you were here right now i'd be in serious trouble.
[TXT] : i'm done.
[TXT] : don't tease me.
[TXT] : i'm getting worried.
[TXT] : oh okay i guess we're not talking anymore.
[TXT] : where are you??
[TXT] : i'm thinking about you.
[TXT] : i hate nights like this without you.
[TXT] : can you come get me?
[TXT] : look up.
[TXT] : i trust you.
[TXT] : i need help.
[TXT] : this is flirting right?
[TXT] : i changed my mind about earlier.
[TXT] : it's fine do whatever you want.
[TXT] : it's not what it looked like, okay?
[TXT] : my brain won't shut up about last night.
[TXT] : please come get me before i make worse choices.
[TXT] : that was not funny.
[TXT] : i'm proud of you.
[TXT] : i don't know why i'm telling you this.
[TXT] : i'm sorry, i should've said something sooner
[TXT] : please don't be mad..
[TXT] : are you coming over or just teasing me?
[TXT] : i won't bother you again.
[TXT] : i almost sent this three times.
[TXT] : did you get home safe?
[TXT] : you don't owe me anything clearly.
[TXT] : i miss you.
[TXT] : guess who i just ran into..
[TXT] : i can't sleep.
[TXT] : i need clarity.
[TXT] : tell me to behave.
[TXT] : okay fine you win.
[TXT] : hello?
[TXT] : you did good.
[TXT] : do you miss me?
[TXT] : i'm bored, entertain me.
[TXT] : are you safe??
[TXT] : you're unbelievable.
[TXT] : i shouldn't have said what i said earlier.
[TXT] : i hope you're asleep because this is embarrassing.
[TXT] : don't ever say that again.
[TXT] : are you flirting with me?
[TXT] : you owe me gas money.
[TXT] : stop avoiding me.
[TXT] : call me when you see this!
[TXT] : you still mad?
[TXT] : can we talk in person?
[TXT] : can i crash at your place?
[TXT] : you're going to get me in trouble.
[TXT] : i'm spiraling.
[TXT] : you're doing this on purpose.
[TXT] : okay i'm done texting now.
[TXT] : you look cute.
[TXT] : glad you had fun.
[TXT] : i'm exhausted.
[TXT] : i'm trying to be respectful but you're not helping.
[TXT] : why would you think that was okay??
[TXT] : i want to move on.
[TXT] : thanks for the heads up i guess.
[TXT] : you left your panties here for a reason didn't you.
[TXT] : you know exactly what you're doing.
[TXT] : please don't tell anyone.
[TXT] : remember when we said we wouldn't do this again.
[TXT] : i can't find my shoes.
[TXT] : do you always do this or just to me?
[TXT] : tell me you don't miss me so i can shut up.
[TXT] : you crossed a line.
[TXT] : you up?
[TXT] : you didn't have to do that.
[TXT] : don't get smug.
[TXT] : i'm on my way!
[TXT] : i should not be saying this.
[TXT] : remind me to tell you later.
[TXT] : come over.
ᝰ🚬 𝚉𝙰𝙲𝙷𝚁𝙿 .ᐟ RANDOM SETTINGS PROMPTS. CHANGE ANY PRONOUNS IF NECESSARY. SOME MATURE THEMES MAY BE PRESENT.
a liquor store with barred windows and a bulletproof counter.
a decommissioned lodge overtaken by weeds.
a bathroom in a run-down apartment building.
a roller rink playing the same songs on loop.
a flea market at dawn, vendors still setting up.
a motel pool glowing turquoise after midnight.
a hiking trail where the signs stop making sense.
a dive bar that smells like smoke and regret.
a bridal shop filled with mirrors.
a county fair after the crowds thin.
a courthouse hallway that smells faintly of old paper and stress.
an amusement park in the rain.
a confessional booth that smells like old wood.
a high school gym during a pep rally.
a chapel with the lights off except for candles.
a fire lookout tower miles from anything else.
a laundry room humming with fluorescent lights.
a city rooftop slick with rain.
an arcade humming with old machines.
a bowling alley with sticky floors and neon lights.
a gas station at the edge of nowhere.
a fallout shelter forgotten by time.
a chairlift stalled above the slopes.
a church basement set up for a meeting.
a newsroom just before deadline.
a basement stacked with old boxes.
a desert highway shimmering with heat.
a funeral home parlor arranged too perfectly.
a brewery patio strung with cheap lights.
a physical therapy clinic that smells like antiseptic and rubber bands.
a greenhouse fogged with humidity.
a community garden at sunset.
a prison visitation room divided by glass.
a tattoo parlor buzzing late into the night.
a photography darkroom glowing red.
a summer carnival at night, lights too bright.
a power substation crackling with electricity.
a toll booth lit like an aquarium.
a half-abandoned shopping mall with only one store still open.
a city park at sunrise.
a holding cell with peeling paint.
a rest stop bathroom off a desolate highway.
a rental cabin buried in snow.
a costume shop crowded with masks.
a city planning office full of maps.
a college dorm hallway echoing with laughter and shouting.
a ghost town baking under the sun.
an underground nightclub where the bass rattles your ribs.
a security office watching too many screens.
a pawn shop cluttered with other people's memories.
a wake held in someone's living room.
a quiet cul-de-sac after a storm.
a recruitment office in a strip mall.
a courtroom bathroom where no one speaks.
a courtroom with the jury absent.
a sauna where the air is too thick.
a summer camp cabin long after the campers left.
a video rental store frozen in time.
an evidence room packed floor to ceiling.
a judge's chambers after hours.
a speakeasy hidden behind a false wall.
a cemetery at dusk, cicadas screaming.
a public restroom lit by flickering fluorescents.
a psychiatric ward common room with bolted furniture.
a tide pool exposed by low tide.
a storm cellar during a tornado warning.
a natural history exhibit after closing.
a zoo maintenance corridor behind exhibits.
a museum storage room full of artifacts.
a firing range ringing with gunshots.
a locker room echoing and empty.
an aquarium tunnel at night.
a karaoke bar at its most unhinged hour.
a suburban backyard during a barbecue.
a stairwell no one uses.
a junkyard full of stripped cars.
a hotel elevator stalled between floors.
a police station break room with stale donuts.
an abandoned warehouse tagged with graffiti.
a hockey arena during overtime, air sharp with ice and spilled beer.
a shrine built by someone who wouldn't let go.
a car wash tunnel swallowing a vehicle whole.
a haunted house attraction mid-season.
a movie theater lobby after the last showing.
a roadside attraction shaped like something absurd.
a dog park during golden hour.
a muddy riverbank after heavy rain.
a courthouse stairwell where voices echo too loudly.
a school parking lot under buzzing streetlights.
a planetarium during a private showing.
a cheap motel room with floral bedspreads and a flickering lamp.
a roadside diner at 3 a.m., neon buzzing, coffee burnt.
a city bus idling at the end of the line.
a penthouse balcony overlooking the city at night.
a wine cellar beneath a historic building.
a lifeguard tower at night.
a municipal pool pump room.
a tailor's back room full of pins and fabric.
a public swimming pool drained for repairs.
a fenced-in yard littered with dog toys.
a thrift store where the air smells like dust and old perfume.
a witness stand under harsh lights.
a crowded subway platform just before the last train.
a piercing studio that smells like disinfectant.
a beach boardwalk after tourist season ends.
a tow truck yard lit by security lamps.
a loading dock behind a closed business.
a recording studio cluttered with cables.
a barber shop mid-conversation.
a radio tower hill overlooking everything.
a classroom long after the final bell.
a drive-in theater with a cracked screen.
a fire escape overlooking an alley.
a passenger ferry cutting through fog.
a hospital waiting room at 2 a.m.
a pharmacy open all night.
a mechanic's garage smelling of oil and metal.
a hallway between two locked doors.
a public records office that no one visits.
a pet adoption center during feeding time.
a crematorium hallway humming quietly.
a border crossing checkpoint at night.
a locker-lined hallway in a community center.
a ski lodge during a whiteout.
a courthouse records archive underground.
a water treatment facility humming endlessly.
a forest trail choked with fog before sunrise.
a playground after dark.
a train platform dusted with snow.
a radio station during the graveyard shift.
a military barracks just before lights-out.
a front porch with a single rocking chair.
a mom-and-pop ice cream parlor on a scorching summer's day.
an emergency room hallway curtained off from sight.
a small-town grocery store minutes before closing.
a farmer's market just as it opens.
a lake dock at dawn, water perfectly still.
a nail salon filled with chemical sweetness.
a bus terminal that never quite sleeps.
a library corner no one ever uses.
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Questioning Sentences, Vol. 59
(Questioning sentences from various sources to ask all kinds of muses. Adjust phrasing where needed)
"Do you ever feel like your life is not your own?"
"Don't you think you're getting a little obsessive?"
"Did it never occur to you that you're the problem, not the solution?"
"What's Latin for 'losing the will to live'?"
"Is there a reason you're not answering your phone?"
"What? Are we not going to kill him?"
"What's up with you? Are you sulking?"
"It's starting again, isn't it?"
"Who teaches us to be normal when we're one of a kind?"
"Why did I have to love you?"
"What did you just do?"
"How do we make him stay dead?"
"What do you leave here for me that you don't dare bring me directly?"
"Do you remember everything you see?"
"You're not using everyone to further another end, are you?"
"I'm sure you're aware of the consequences of divulging confidential information?"
"How am I supposed to write in this state?"
"Do you remember the fairytale?"
"Does it hurt? The truth you keep hidden?"
"You weren't leaving, were you?"
"You're letting me live. Why?"
"Why do you hold all your hate for me?"
"What colour underwear do you think I'm wearing?"
"Is this a poem?"
"Do you always sit in complete silence?"
"I assume you're here to apologise?"
"Come on! When was the last time you had fun?"
"Are you asking me to help you kill him?"
"What was it that gave me away?"
"How do I know you're actually you?"
"Is there any chance you'll find who really did it?"
"What are you looking at me like that for?"
"Do you ever wonder if all of this is just a dream?"
"What defines a nice bum, anyway?"
"Don't you want to be saved?"
"Have you ever known me to lose a fight?"
"Do you really think that running away will do you any good?"
