Trash Drawing Novels & Stories

A slop cart was parked right there, collecting kitchen waste from the neighborhood. The smell was something else entirely. However, I didn't have options. I clenched my teeth and climbed inside the barrel. I crouched in the dark and the stench and let the cart haul me, rocking and jolting, all the way out of town. 'Goodbye, my husband. 'Goodbye, Grand Chancellor.' - In the study, Jeremy worked through the last document and pressed his fingers to his temple. A small smile crossed his face as he set down his quill and got up, then headed toward the bedroom.

I was planning to ride out those last days in peace, detached and unbothered, but no—Betty just had to bring the drama. She shattered my dad's urn. The ashes spilled everywhere, but it wasn't enough for her. Nope. Her cat strutted in, did its business right on the remains, and Betty? She had the audacity to grin. "Daphne, look! The ashes make great litter for my cat!" And just like that, all the grief, the rage, everything I'd been holding back exploded. I just grabbed the baseball bat behind the door and swung. The crack of impact was satisfying, but Betty's scream? Even better. She stumbled back, pale as a ghost, scrambling to get away.

I told them before I went to the toilet to freshen up. I do my business and was currently washing my hands when I saw the bin still full of trash. They were almost tissue paper and normal posers, but I was determined to search through every inch. So I went into the room to get a clean pair of hand gloves. I came back and started sorting out the trash, separating tissue from normal paper. It was a dirty job, but it had to be done, and after I was through, I was left with a huge pile of them. She sure likes to tear things apart. I started looking through them one by one, and they were all gibberish writing that was later cancelled until you couldn't even make anything out.

"Pack up your things. Leave the key in the flowerpot by the door. You don't need to come here anymore, Ms. Armstrong." His voice was cold, and he left just as decisively. The sound of the door closing was heavier than usual. I turned on my phone. On the screen was a photo of Jared and me together. No long dresses, no jewelry. Both of us were in suits, with perfectly measured smiles on our faces and gold-rimmed glasses on our noses. It looked like the "Employee of the Month" photos that hung in office hallways. Jared was right. We really were very similar.

He kicked the trash bin near the dresser and then slipped on the floor. Mishka’s focus shifted to him, but he wasn’t hurt this time. He quickly stood on his feet and walked away, splintering the trash on the floor. Mishka bent down picking crushed papers from the floor and other stuff when her hand gets on the visiting card of Dr James Carter and she stared at it.

I yearned to know if she thought I was useless—just dead weight dragging her down… However, I didn’t want to make a scene, and I didn’t want to drag an uninvolved man into the mess of my marriage. I turned to leave and accidentally knocked over a nearby trash can. Clang! The loud crash made both of them turn at the same time. Our eyes met. The burrito wrapper slipped from Alisha’s hand and dropped lazily to the ground. "Kayden?" The embarrassment of being caught hit me all at once. I wanted to disappear into the pavement. Nevertheless, I straightened up anyway, forcing a calm smile. "What a coincidence, babe. You two… talking business?"

His hands moved to his chest when we heard a crash, followed by a wail. “Oh my god!” Someone wailed from outside, making all of us stare. Tara Hawthorne stumbled through there, hands holding an empty trash can with bits and pieces of garbage all over the floor. “Oh come on!” The doctor gasped. “I just finished sweeping.” “After a year?” She rolled her eyes before she slammed the can on the floor. It bounced slowly before rolling to the other side. Shaking and calling the dust off her palms, she stepped in. “You have enough garbage to give a recycler a run for his money.”

Trist said tearfully. Trist looked around to see if anyone else had seen him, but it seemed like it was just the passing of the truck that he noticed. When Trist could think of a way, with all his might he lifted the unconscious corpse of the man, then placed it in the compartment of his car. He hurriedly got into the car and was dragged to where. When Trist arrived at the destination, he immediately took the man to the compartment of the car. He carried the corpse into the woods near the house of his friend Chris. Suddenly the rain stopped causing her to shed tears as she stared at the lifeless man on the lawn.

"Can we please start over?" I looked at his fake, desperate face and felt nothing but disgust. Calmly, I asked, "Hey, Liam. Do you know anything about sorting garbage?" He was caught off guard. "What?" I pointed at him. "You… are the hazardous waste I threw out. I have a bit of an obsession with cleanliness. Once I throw something away, I never pick it up again." His expression shifted from pleading to shame and anger. He wanted to say more, but I turned and walked away, leaving my bodyguards to stop him behind me.

A backstabbing ingrate! Another crisp smack echoed harshly in the empty hall. The other side of Jim's face quickly swelled up. I didn't look at him again. My icy gaze passed right through him and landed directly on Anne, who was cowering behind him. I walked up to her slowly and looked down at her. As I loomed over her, I smirked coldly. My voice was gentle as I said, "How kind-hearted you are, Annie. You can even happily pick up the trash that I, Cecilia Forrest, throw away. Not only that, you've even managed to create a 'miracle of love' with it."