Custom tweed. Extra wide double Winsors. Elbow pads.
His world is opulent. He is gourmet, gourmand, restrained hedonist. Cultured monster.
How to Scramble Eggs with Gordon Ramsay
1. he seems like a chill mofo to hang with
2. what the hell have i been eating my entire life
Can I make this for someone?! :o I really wanna try this but I don’t really like eggs…
this is so beautifully simple and extravagant i think i might cry about it.
I LOVE THIS CLASSY ASSHOLE
Well, I guess I know what I am doing tomorrow morning.
The Holt Building still looked too new and unreal, like it didn’t belong in the city she’d been born in. At almost a hundred stories tall, it was a monolith of dark glass and steel that cut a gash in the sky like a dagger. There was something unworldly in its fluid design. It made her both filled with awe and a bit uncomfortable.
Security was tighter than most airports. Her bags were searched, her ID was scanned, her background was checked. Her stomach lurched as the elevator sped up fifty some odd floors before hissing to a stop abruptly, there was some internal click in the mechanism under her before the elevator hurled up the next fifty stories even faster. When it reach what felt like it must be the top floor, the door slid open to a single huge room.
The elevator bay was in the center of the circular room and all the walls were made of huge windows that showed a 360 degree view of the entire city; uptown, downtown, rivers to the east and west.
The room held two huge curved conference tables, each black glass like the exterior of the building, but the surfaces winked and flashed with numbers and pictures, like giant computer monitors.
In front of her were three desks, one of them topped with a lazily spinning holographic globe, complete with real time displays of weather pattern and swirling clouds.
At the smallest of the desk sat a twenty-something looking man, handsome in a prettyish way, typing away on a very sleek looking laptop. He looked up and motioned for her to sit in the seat on the other side of his desk.
More often than not I start story ideas on my phone, often on my morning commute and then let them germinate for a while, then come back to them days/weeks later and finish them up. I don’t redraft short works.
Get my eBooks at books.writingdirty.com
Subscribe via RSS.