he started on fire.

It was my own work holding me back. Making me forget about what really mattered. "What was that again." He Knew what it was. His life had made itself apparent. "Video killed the photographer" it put a smile on his face as he wrote it. "It's all you're fault." He thought of her. Her lips. He smiled again he fantasized. "I know what I want." The thoughts that came to his head overwhelmed him. He looked around for a inkling in what was just and he found it in the reflection on the widow. He could see himself looking through the glass. All the houses outside stood dark. His head silhouetted by the oven light behind him. "Love the light." he looked through himself into her. His heart started racing as he saw the reflection in the mirror. He felt a sensation, a heating on his inner thigh. His senses heightened by her presence.
Seeing her outside made him feel uneasy, he wasn't home alone, he was with his child.
Her presence was begging to be welcomed, "But in the night?" He knew her answer to his life. A smile and a sigh, then a natural glance at one another in traffic. "Well, you're always downtown" his pants started to smolder. Then

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She wanted to enjoy more of his company

"We already live there!" the excitement in his voice filled the room, it was overwhelming. There was a crowd of people and everyone was staring.  One of the girls sitting over at the pavilion got up and walked out of the auditorium. Everyone one could tell he was not going to back down. "This is not a Utopia!" her voice carried equally powerful across the room except that it broke.
She was much younger then he was, "I'm older then you!" looking at her with his sympathetic eyes. "It's not about anybody but you!" his voice was gentle, the room was back doing it's own thing. "No one every remembers anything unless it's happening to them!" standing looked harder then it was. He's knees buckled. He began to laugh. She looked up at him through her youthful eyes, "I'm going to regret knowing you aren't I?" her question made sense to him. The boy sitting next to her, listening in, didn't understand.
"What?" he asked himself as he watched the man leave, "What the fuck was that guy talking about?" his question wasn't something that lit fires in her mind. "He was thrilling!" her cheeks glowing, afternoon Chapel was letting out. The Pastor was leaving when someone rang the bell. The sound scared her. "Who was that" the noise was unexpected. "I don't know!" she answered, the question came from below her. Everyone started to head back to hear more ........

I just took a shit and here's you're money want the cup cake mister?"

He opened the window the stench was overwhelming. "Why" He asked without breathing, the fat passenger just sat there staring ahead. "It smells like eggs" the man said, his grotesquely obese hands folded gently in his lap. "My toe hurts" the smell of his breath preceded the stench of his flatulence. The taxi driver just had to keep breathing. It was minus thirty-six degrees Celsius outside, that didn't include the wind chill. "It's been a fucking cold winter eh?" the fat mans mouth speaking scared him. The driver opened the window just a crack. The smell was so awful. "Do you have to keep farting?" it was noxious, the passenger just smiled. Then he bounced a bit. His weight caused the taxi, that was driving up 106th ave, to bounce. It looked like there were hydraulics being used. A police cruiser watched as the taxi rolled by and sprang up almost a foot. "Fuck man!" the driver yelled. "Dude what the fuck you doing?" he looked back to see if the cops were on his ass. They weren't. "They never help when you need them." He envisioned them watching the fat man bounce up and down in the cab and laugh. Their red faces happy, "to have a normal job". The taxi business was getting dangerous. No one had money... except the government workers. They all drove cars too. "I've never driven a government worker" his voice falling on def ears, the fat man was concentrating on fitting his hand into his pocket. "What you looking for?" the question sounded awkward the moment the fat man opened his mouth to answer. "I cup cake!" he said, bucking himself a bit to have more leverage to jam his hand into the tight pocket. "You have a fucking cup cake in there?" his face we turning red, he was becoming completely infuriated. He wanted to close his eyes and pretend all this was just a dream. So he did, the stress had overwhelmed him. The obese man stared ahead. "Open you 're eye's mister." he screamed. The driver listened just in time to avoid hitting a parked car. "That was close!" the stench again ejected into the air. "I can't fucking breath, why do you stink so bad" the fat man turned to him and said "I work for the government, and