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27-Nov-2019 02:06 by 7 Comments

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Just walking, being, looking across New York's dusk lit streets, the theater signs and bustling traffic, felt different. It felt numb seeing her sitting there, waiting for him like a lover, to come home.

On his way home, he stood and re-read her text, standing in the wintry street.Last night, his arms wrapped around her, as he spooned his mom with his muscular thighs. In the poster's background, the frontier landscapes of stagnant Yankee pastures stretching behind Lennie into the blue yonder.Times Square was so cold, as Rick walked home towards his fate.And then, as the walking distance between him and his mom closed until she was inside his personal space; he embraced the union he had longed for all day and all last night.The only telling signs of her age, were her hands, and the bluish veins through her soft creased white skin.The police officer climbing into their dimly lit, impoverished trailer to call an ambulance for a family with no health insurance. Didn't spare Allison, nor the thousands of American families like her; put out on grieving streets after Wall Street's 2008 banquet. Rick's well-to-do secretary turned on her designer heels, and left his office door, without closing his door. Moving the half-eaten subway melt off his keyboard and hitting the escape key. Rick wiped the finger-marked glass screen, before tapping the open button. Her repeated subterfuge, somehow, converting the guilt of both parties.

But even all this sugar coats the brutality of the poverty Bells inflicted on homeowners, like Allison's family, left to fend for themselves in the constitutional shattering of "un-American" cold. Rick watched as the female judge, from the same Ivy League college he got rejected, snuck a lofty glance at Allison, from her lofty bench. Rick would be stuck with that judge's hesitating-sneak-glance at Allison, for some time. From his leather office chair, Rick looked through his glass and steel window, inside the bank's Manhattan skyscraper, and the falling snow outside. He looked back at the case file on his monitor screen, staring at the name of the mother who, with his complicit efforts, will now be reduced to rummaging for food in squalid bins. Chloe's pseudonym, crossing the t's and dotting the i's, in a green light of burning lust and taboo, that Rick had endured since puberty.The grey, dirty stained white snow beneath his feet, dangerously melting into slush ice that would need to be salted before the morn.As he walked back in the twilight to his apartment building, he knew his mom would be waiting for him in the building's glass foyer. He finally, colder inside than the ice raining down, approached the glass foyer doors of his apartment building, and walked inside.Though the pay was nearly as good as a commercial firm, and Rick was free of his law school debt earlier than most other out-of-state folks his age; it was the cruelty of these moments, in absolute privilege, that made the job tough. The cruelty of the rinsings he inflicted on poor people for the bank; the things they'd asked him to do. Even with all the bailout money, and late night shredding sessions, there was still so much evidence, Bells gratefully took the government plea bargain and settled

But even all this sugar coats the brutality of the poverty Bells inflicted on homeowners, like Allison's family, left to fend for themselves in the constitutional shattering of "un-American" cold. Rick watched as the female judge, from the same Ivy League college he got rejected, snuck a lofty glance at Allison, from her lofty bench. Rick would be stuck with that judge's hesitating-sneak-glance at Allison, for some time. From his leather office chair, Rick looked through his glass and steel window, inside the bank's Manhattan skyscraper, and the falling snow outside. He looked back at the case file on his monitor screen, staring at the name of the mother who, with his complicit efforts, will now be reduced to rummaging for food in squalid bins. Chloe's pseudonym, crossing the t's and dotting the i's, in a green light of burning lust and taboo, that Rick had endured since puberty.

The grey, dirty stained white snow beneath his feet, dangerously melting into slush ice that would need to be salted before the morn.

As he walked back in the twilight to his apartment building, he knew his mom would be waiting for him in the building's glass foyer. He finally, colder inside than the ice raining down, approached the glass foyer doors of his apartment building, and walked inside.

Though the pay was nearly as good as a commercial firm, and Rick was free of his law school debt earlier than most other out-of-state folks his age; it was the cruelty of these moments, in absolute privilege, that made the job tough. The cruelty of the rinsings he inflicted on poor people for the bank; the things they'd asked him to do. Even with all the bailout money, and late night shredding sessions, there was still so much evidence, Bells gratefully took the government plea bargain and settled $1.2 billion out of court. Except Allison, and her elderly dad, and son, ruthlessly tossed out of their homes onto New York's streets that February. " the judge asked, pausing mid-sentence to adjust the sleeve of her black gown. " she directed at Rick, in her prim New England tone. Not enough to dab the mom's overwhelming grief, or Rick's guilt. He could hear Allison's sobs 20 feet away from him, and he couldn't bear to turn his head to see her blue eyes again. Returning to sit back down in his office chair, he slipped out the slim-lined black mobile, eager to read its backlit screen.

It cut him somewhere deep, and he felt the guilt weigh. A mom, much like his own; frightened and crushed by corrupt mortgage lenders and facing the bleak and terrifying prospect of losing everything they had. I really fucking hate this," Rick burst out to Sonia, his office clerk, who stood sombrely listening to his account, with her head lent against the doorway to his office... She'd also come to know Allison's case, and it didn't feel good. A guiltier man, Rick's mind began to steam over and over what had happened last night, with his own mother, who was in town to stay with him for a few days in the city. It was a Kik notification from that dating site, Todd and Clare, where his mom had found him.

If you're only reading for masturbation value, scroll down to the part that starts with the Steinbeck poster. In his small loss of concentration, Rick realized the woman on which he peered, the bank's adversary, was pretty. Rick looked at Myers, the Hendry family's third-rate attorney, sitting next to her. As Rick scrutinized Allison, she turned and looked over at him. Having to come face to face, in open court, with the people, the families, they'd lied about.

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But even all this sugar coats the brutality of the poverty Bells inflicted on homeowners, like Allison's family, left to fend for themselves in the constitutional shattering of "un-American" cold. Rick watched as the female judge, from the same Ivy League college he got rejected, snuck a lofty glance at Allison, from her lofty bench. Rick would be stuck with that judge's hesitating-sneak-glance at Allison, for some time. From his leather office chair, Rick looked through his glass and steel window, inside the bank's Manhattan skyscraper, and the falling snow outside. He looked back at the case file on his monitor screen, staring at the name of the mother who, with his complicit efforts, will now be reduced to rummaging for food in squalid bins. Chloe's pseudonym, crossing the t's and dotting the i's, in a green light of burning lust and taboo, that Rick had endured since puberty.The grey, dirty stained white snow beneath his feet, dangerously melting into slush ice that would need to be salted before the morn.As he walked back in the twilight to his apartment building, he knew his mom would be waiting for him in the building's glass foyer. He finally, colder inside than the ice raining down, approached the glass foyer doors of his apartment building, and walked inside.Though the pay was nearly as good as a commercial firm, and Rick was free of his law school debt earlier than most other out-of-state folks his age; it was the cruelty of these moments, in absolute privilege, that made the job tough. The cruelty of the rinsings he inflicted on poor people for the bank; the things they'd asked him to do. Even with all the bailout money, and late night shredding sessions, there was still so much evidence, Bells gratefully took the government plea bargain and settled $1.2 billion out of court. Except Allison, and her elderly dad, and son, ruthlessly tossed out of their homes onto New York's streets that February. " the judge asked, pausing mid-sentence to adjust the sleeve of her black gown. " she directed at Rick, in her prim New England tone. Not enough to dab the mom's overwhelming grief, or Rick's guilt. He could hear Allison's sobs 20 feet away from him, and he couldn't bear to turn his head to see her blue eyes again. Returning to sit back down in his office chair, he slipped out the slim-lined black mobile, eager to read its backlit screen.It cut him somewhere deep, and he felt the guilt weigh. A mom, much like his own; frightened and crushed by corrupt mortgage lenders and facing the bleak and terrifying prospect of losing everything they had. I really fucking hate this," Rick burst out to Sonia, his office clerk, who stood sombrely listening to his account, with her head lent against the doorway to his office... She'd also come to know Allison's case, and it didn't feel good. A guiltier man, Rick's mind began to steam over and over what had happened last night, with his own mother, who was in town to stay with him for a few days in the city. It was a Kik notification from that dating site, Todd and Clare, where his mom had found him. If you're only reading for masturbation value, scroll down to the part that starts with the Steinbeck poster. In his small loss of concentration, Rick realized the woman on which he peered, the bank's adversary, was pretty. Rick looked at Myers, the Hendry family's third-rate attorney, sitting next to her. As Rick scrutinized Allison, she turned and looked over at him. Having to come face to face, in open court, with the people, the families, they'd lied about.

.2 billion out of court. Except Allison, and her elderly dad, and son, ruthlessly tossed out of their homes onto New York's streets that February. " the judge asked, pausing mid-sentence to adjust the sleeve of her black gown. " she directed at Rick, in her prim New England tone. Not enough to dab the mom's overwhelming grief, or Rick's guilt. He could hear Allison's sobs 20 feet away from him, and he couldn't bear to turn his head to see her blue eyes again. Returning to sit back down in his office chair, he slipped out the slim-lined black mobile, eager to read its backlit screen.It cut him somewhere deep, and he felt the guilt weigh. A mom, much like his own; frightened and crushed by corrupt mortgage lenders and facing the bleak and terrifying prospect of losing everything they had. I really fucking hate this," Rick burst out to Sonia, his office clerk, who stood sombrely listening to his account, with her head lent against the doorway to his office... She'd also come to know Allison's case, and it didn't feel good. A guiltier man, Rick's mind began to steam over and over what had happened last night, with his own mother, who was in town to stay with him for a few days in the city. It was a Kik notification from that dating site, Todd and Clare, where his mom had found him. If you're only reading for masturbation value, scroll down to the part that starts with the Steinbeck poster. In his small loss of concentration, Rick realized the woman on which he peered, the bank's adversary, was pretty. Rick looked at Myers, the Hendry family's third-rate attorney, sitting next to her. As Rick scrutinized Allison, she turned and looked over at him. Having to come face to face, in open court, with the people, the families, they'd lied about.