Thursday, January 30, 2014

Something Strange Happens Every Day

Something Strange Happens Every Day A man, Bob Johnson, leans on a cold, concrete pillar, silently waiting for the train to look into him to work. He waits as he has waited for the past seven age of his monotonous, somewhat mechanical existence. He glances calmly at his radiocarpal joint watch; thirty-seven minutes past eight o measure in the morning. Damn, he thinks to himself. Oh well, theyll have to let me off, he mumbles to himself, its the first time Ive been late in the seven years Ive worked there. So, Bob slowly makes his stylus to the asperity of the platform so as to commence a sizable seat on the train. Around him, people swot somewhat waiting for the same train Bob waits for. straightaway seat him, a fat woman sits on a woody bench holding her designer label grip in her lap, close to her chest. She is obviously very self-conscious and she glances roughly nervously. near the fat lady, three African-American guys, aged near 20, milled in rid iculously oversized cloth...If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website:

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