Written by someone I follow here on DA. Read it and keep it handy - for yourself and others caught in the throes of suicidal depression.
Author and Rapscallion Ch 4Every time. Every damned time..! Lette sulked at herself as she fretted here and there in her small apartment, getting her things sorted and cleaning up a bit to procrastinate, even though it never really killed more than a few minutes anyway.Author and Rapscallion Ch 4 by Chibi-Pandachan
Every single time they'd met up, he had managed to wile his way out of answering any significant questions. Her curiosity had been as much as anybody's at first, after that first day at the café and the stroll around the park, flickering at the back of her mind like a candle that couldn't be snuffed out. What job was it that he had just quit? Why did he want to quit at all? Had he been in a row with a colleague or superior and just quit to avoid being fired?
Time passed, though, and he'd sneakily left similar notes as the first one in her bike's wicker basket every other weekend or so, asking her to meet him at the café or the park, once at the fountain on Main Street downtown. The notes appeared when she was downtown already on
Author and Rapscallion Ch 3of?That day, it was as though summer had settled in all at once during the short few hours they had spent over lunch and coffee at the Tazza. After stumbling over that brief moment of hesitation, Conn had resumed his role of charming stranger with affability and no small amount of exaggerated flourish. He was every bit the courteous gentleman; his choice of words, the way he held his cutlery and espresso cup, the easy way he leaned back in his chair, head tilted to the side, but somehow managing to look formal.Author and Rapscallion Ch 3of? by Chibi-Pandachan
By the time they'd left the café - and he'd been absolutely insistent about picking up the tab, of course - Lette had begun to wonder about his background. She could easily imagine him as having attended some sort of finishing school, the young scrub in a family full of world-wise company bigwigs, sent off to have his youthful manner refined into elegant manliness before he was to take over the family business -- or something like that. But she was only making up a
Author and Rapscallion Ch 2of?The few days between the delivery to the bookstore and going back into the downtown district had made her nervous. There wasn't any real reason to be, and it was beginning to get to her. She had continued working as any self-reliant freelance journalist and hobby novelist would - which is to say, when inspiration struck and stuck around long enough for her to write down more than four lines at a time. Not much progress had been made on her most recent novel, which wouldn't please her publisher, but the local news and review journal had asked for editorials weeks ago.Author and Rapscallion Ch 2of? by Chibi-Pandachan
And they would get them today, for no other reason than because something inside her that looked like a little schoolgirl was getting excited about what was essentially a blind date - but the adult needed a reason to justify making a trip downtown. Excited with stomach-butterflies and taking too much time to decide on something nice to wear, at that. Should she look casually dressy, or an unnoticeable, tiny step above what
Author and Rapscallion Ch 1of?They'd met eyes a few times before, probably. Exchanged a couple polite smiles as most people did when they both spent a good amount of time in the small but packed and active business district downtown and thought to themselves, "Have I met that person before somewhere?" She trotted out the door and to the left, back to the telephone pole to which she'd hitched her bicycle.Author and Rapscallion Ch 1of? by Chibi-Pandachan
"Wh--!" Pulling up short, she sputtered in confusion briefly before giving up. She put a fist on her hip and leaned against the building with a huffy sigh.
"I would say 'get the hell away from my bike', but you're clearly not interested in riding away with it beneath you. And you look vaguely familiar." Her face contorted into a squint as she tried to place his face from memory - unable to do so since they'd never actually spoken before. "So who the hell are you and what do you want?"
The man before her had to be tall, his limbs long and lanky and thin, almost too-thin. There hovered about him a scruffiness that su