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Your Fifth ChanceYour Fifth Chance by SRaffa
If you've got five chances, throw four of them at whatever you can reasonably hit. But, as for the fifth…
In 1991, in broad daylight, I'm pounding on the heavy glass doors of Spivak's Art Supply, a store that had been open for many years until this very day, the one day I really have to get inside.
All of the windows and doors are papered over from the inside and the lights are out.
My fist is meeting the glass with the kind of desperation that gets people arrested and put in jail, every day of the week. I don't hear any noise at all from inside.
Boiling over all at once, I run around to the alley in back and up the short ramp where trucks had formerly unloaded easels and drawing boards and whatever else into this store. I put my ear to the door and I can distinctly hear someone speaking out loud in there, and the pounding I give the door now surprises even me.
"Open up! I gotta have my drawing back! Please
I spend too much time dreaming and not enough time doing, but somewhere along the way its all added up and balanced itself out! I'm coming up on my 9th anniversary here on deviantART <3|