Status: NaNo material. :) Editing, editing, editing.
Love at First Fight
Round 00; Introducing the Contestants
I live for love, and my love is money.
I love coins. I love notes. I love bankcards. I love cheques. I love the Australian Dollar, I love the US Dollar, I love Euro, I love Yen, I love Peso, I love Rand, I love Pound Sterling, I love Won, I love Afgani. In fact, I do not discriminate. Whatever type or country they are from, whatever colour they are, no matter how big, how small, how heavy, how light they are, I love them all. I love seeing money. I love hearing money. I love smelling money. I love feeling money. Money, in itself is an experience, a joy, a gift.
No really, I do. See, money is not ‘just money’. It’s not an object; it’s a gift, a joy, an experience. Shall I elaborate? Money is not a thing, but an experience that requires all five senses.
Just the sheer exhilaration of seeing, finding a coin or two (sometimes if you’re lucky, a note) on the street requires you to bring forth a celebration! Have you not heard of the parable of the woman who lost one coin? Once the missing coin was found, she called all her neighbours and held a party!
Not just finding, but hearing the sound of money as I flick notes between my fingers or hear a coin drop gives me indescribable joy. Even the smell of it – the coins, the notes, heck, even credit cards and cheques are simply divine and brings me into a state of utmost Zen. And the feeling? It’s like sex. But better (at least, I imagine it to be). But believe you me, even just by holding money in cold, hard cash in your hands will surpass even the most intense orgasm.
Yes, money can do that to you. Imagine if you had more. Like, five hundred dollars in cold, hard cash?
Well, it’s not that I have five hundred dollars in cold, hard cash yet. But soon enough, soon enough, I will.
Ah, more than anything, I love money.
I love coins. I love notes. I love bankcards. I love cheques. I love the Australian Dollar, I love the US Dollar, I love Euro, I love Yen, I love Peso, I love Rand, I love Pound Sterling, I love Won, I love Afgani. In fact, I do not discriminate. Whatever type or country they are from, whatever colour they are, no matter how big, how small, how heavy, how light they are, I love them all. I love seeing money. I love hearing money. I love smelling money. I love feeling money. Money, in itself is an experience, a joy, a gift.
No really, I do. See, money is not ‘just money’. It’s not an object; it’s a gift, a joy, an experience. Shall I elaborate? Money is not a thing, but an experience that requires all five senses.
Just the sheer exhilaration of seeing, finding a coin or two (sometimes if you’re lucky, a note) on the street requires you to bring forth a celebration! Have you not heard of the parable of the woman who lost one coin? Once the missing coin was found, she called all her neighbours and held a party!
Not just finding, but hearing the sound of money as I flick notes between my fingers or hear a coin drop gives me indescribable joy. Even the smell of it – the coins, the notes, heck, even credit cards and cheques are simply divine and brings me into a state of utmost Zen. And the feeling? It’s like sex. But better (at least, I imagine it to be). But believe you me, even just by holding money in cold, hard cash in your hands will surpass even the most intense orgasm.
Yes, money can do that to you. Imagine if you had more. Like, five hundred dollars in cold, hard cash?
Well, it’s not that I have five hundred dollars in cold, hard cash yet. But soon enough, soon enough, I will.
Ah, more than anything, I love money.
♠ ♠ ♠
Prologue.Also, if I can humbly ask people to point out any spelling / grammar / inconsistencies in this story for me, that would be great. Hey, I'll even bribe you with my non-existent money. :D
Comments are always welcome... cough cough.
Thank-you for reading. :)