Ten Things One Thing || Aaron Burr

Number 8 (ya last chance to negotiate)

I FOUND MY BOYFRIEND AT THE RINGLING MEUSEUM.
(pictured above.)

Also Star Trek put of context is like, weirder if you haven't seen it, therefore making you regret watching the video and wanting to watch it again.

(GREEN LEAVES? THE DEVIL IS THIS!?)
Also some potentially gAy content because Captain Kirk flirts with everyone.

ANYWAYS you lovable readers sorry I'm a week behind.
I also have a 2k special I am endeavoring on for Marvel Angst Shots.

I have a new ship!

S P I R K

Lookit up punks.

Now! For this week's dose of angst,
NUMBERS 8!

DAY EIGHT:

I should probably go to church. And work.
And the store.
I need a new handkerchief, or five.

Whatever! Why should I care about myself!?

The mid-morning light shines through, taking the edge off my mind as I tie my cravat.

Last night I had a dream.

"RUN! AARON, YOU HAVE TO GET THE CANONS, I'LL BE OKAY!"

No, it wasn't Alex.
It was Hercules.

His leg was broken, the blood staining his already-red redcoat disguise. The broken boards were all around him.

"No! Come on Herc! We can't leave you behind!"

"Come back for me then! I'm a "redcoat", I'm safe!"

I looked towards him and towards the door I needed to get through.

So I ran back to him, and handed him my cigarette lighter made of steel and engraved.

"Keep this safe for me, yes?" I asked, kneeling down.

"Good luck, Aaron." He whispered.

I pressed my forehead to his, and took off to the cannons.

Right as the whole corridor blew to bits and peices.

I whipped around. "HERCULES!" I screamed I to the wooden darkness.

And there was his body, impaled by the wood.

That was the first time I remember death.

My parents were dead, but I didn't remember them.

I don't remember Mom and Dad's deaths.

But Theodosia can remember her mother. I'm grateful for that.

I dread one thing.

Today I have to go to work.

...

"MR. BURR! Sir! Good to see you!" A cheerful voice called out.

Adams, why are you here!?

"Mr. Adams? What are you...?"

I look up from my desk at the well-fed (but defidently not obese) John Adams, who beamed at me with an evil valor.

"I wanted to shake your hand and say, congratulations! Or, well done, at least."

Did my law plan get approved by Congress Monday?
Shit, did I miss that?