NaNoWriMo Day 4. Total words now: 8176. (excerpt inside.)
Posted by
Qale (aka Qale)
Nov 4 '09, 16:13
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Friday, May 15, 2009
2:09PM
**Kalki Helaku has become a fan of Faboo Taboo and Body Piercing.
**Kalki Helaku has posted new pictures in his Skate or Die album.
Casper,
Last night I stayed after Eddie locked up. He told me he didn't care what I did as long as I didn't break anything.
"Don't worry," I told him, "I'm not gonna be practicing any crazy moves or anything."
"I wasn't worried. I'm taking the only parked car left out here." Eddie smirked back at me, pressed the button to deactivate his car's alarm, and eventually got in to drive away.
That left me completely alone with only my thoughts. Those were such a tempest too. Dropping my deck, I slowly rolled on over toward the bowl. Skittles told you that I'd threw it down earlier in the week, and sure enough I am going to have to readjust one of the front wheels. It's wobbling, pulling me to the right. I lost my cool is all, though, no sweat.
But with the street lights unlit, I dared to make a few passes along the sloped smooth concrete surface. There was the dull roar of my ride accompanied by the cocophany of late spring crickets. But my sounds were punctuated at times by my nailing series of hops, twists, and even a 540 I just pulled out of nowhere.
I couldn't mimic Trix's switch-over 180s in that I couldn't get the speed up fast enough to pull the hat trick. Sure enough, Casper, The Blue Ghost had a rare wipe out. The board went one way, I went the other, until we found one another again at the bottom of the bowl both worse for wear. My deck had that wheel problem I mentioned, and I'd got some gnarly scrapes along my left forarm from wrist to elbow.
Eddie always insisted on saftey pads.
Mom always insisted on saftey pads.
Skit always insisted on saftey pads.
Fuck... even Rodney Mullen would insist on saftey pads.
I just got careless, is all. And you know what, Casper, I took my lumps. I remained at the bottom of the bowl for a while. That's why I didn't come home right away last night. I held my bleeding arm tight with my blue t-shirt until it stopped while I lay there looking up at the starless sky.
A good hour passed, I'm sure. And I wondered about all sorts of things. Ironically, some of them were the exact same issues that Mishka wrote about and talked to me about before we went to bed last night.
I wonder what the sky is like in San Francisco.
Or Tokyo.
I bet you can't see the stars in either of those cities either. But I fully intend on finding out. Because tomorrow, I'm going to beat Trix. I'm going to win a spot on the Pump Tour. And I'm going to do it even if I can't fix my wheel. I'm going to do it even if Mishka is sitting in the stands rooting for his new best friend because he doesn't want me to go on tour.
Yeah, that's what he told me.
I asked him if he had been reading you and he said he had.
"That's cool. Did you write anything? It can be like with Ollie, both of us can share it if you want," I said, even as I was pulling my dirty clothes off.
But he stopped me before I could finish undressing. Pulling me close, he wrapped his arms about me and told me that he didn't want us to be apart.
"What do you mean?" I asked. I admit, I was a little incredulous. I mean, us, apart? Where in you would he get that idea that I would want that?
"I can't go on the tour with you, KK."
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