One Shots

waffle house | skippa da flippa

I pulled my jacket closer to my body as I continued to walk down the streets of Gwinnett county. I didn't know where I was going but I definitely wasn't going home.

I crossed the street after the light turned red to avoid the old men and young boys on the corner. They're all different but one word can describe them: disrespectful. They always whistle at me and when I ignore them, they call me all kinds of bitches and hoes.

I shook my head as a car honked at me. They can't get mad cause I walk slow. I never went to physical therapy after I broke my left leg so its hard.

I got across the street and sat on one of the benches for bus riders. I wasn't getting on the bus, I was just tired.

"Ugh." I groaned. My left leg went numb, again. It always does that after it rains.

"You g-g-good?" I assumed it was one of the rude guys from across the street so I quickly nodded, not even looking up.

"I'm fine." He sat next to me. I glanced over at him then back down at my leg. I never seen him before. He was lightskin, had waves, and several tattoos covering his arms.

"I'm K-Kevin." He smiled then stared at my leg that was covered in numerous tattoos. Once my leg got a little feeling in it, I stood up and leaned against the stop sign. "I'm finna go to W-Waffle H-House." I assumed he wanted me to come.

"Are you asking me to come with you?" I asked while looking at him. He nodded. I was hesitant, but I'm definitely not turning down free food. I crossed my arms and walked with him since it was right down the street.

"My cuzzos may be t-there already so y-y-yeah." He said as he held the door open for me.

This should be fun.