wonders never cease (2)
Nov. 7th, 2008 11:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
oh_darlingSo here's a miniscule excerpt to make me feel like I've got more than zero words written tide you over.
A-At least it's not still at zero? I've got no idea if I'll wind up using this or not, but hey. It's a start.
It’s some time afterwards that our shoulders brush again. It’s nothing personal, really, but I’m not quite cooled off yet and so I veer aside as I catch a glimpse of him in my peripheral vision. He’s walking, a significantly-smaller stack of books nestled between his arms, glasses askew, and mouth twisting downwards at the corners ever so slightly.
If I were the type of guy who likes getting inside people’s heads, I’d start telling you all about how intense he is, about how he’s rehearsing for stuff that’s way out of my league, and about how he’s probably going to stay caught up in a world of his own for a while—but let’s face it. I’m not. So to me he’s still a Stranger, languid as he moves between shelves.
Everything about him screams casual, and it’s annoying. Here I am, overworked and nursing bruises and sore and on the verge of standing in line at a library of all places (getting stiffer), and there he is, carefree and sauntering by just out of reach. I kind of want to punch him, but not as hard as I already did.
You saw how well that turned out.
Love,
TBC...
Post Script -- Suspend your irritation at me and direct it towards non-vicious questions if at all. Answers will be coming eventually, if I can ever steal a couple more minutes to work on this NaNoWriMo.
A-At least it's not still at zero? I've got no idea if I'll wind up using this or not, but hey. It's a start.
It’s some time afterwards that our shoulders brush again. It’s nothing personal, really, but I’m not quite cooled off yet and so I veer aside as I catch a glimpse of him in my peripheral vision. He’s walking, a significantly-smaller stack of books nestled between his arms, glasses askew, and mouth twisting downwards at the corners ever so slightly.
If I were the type of guy who likes getting inside people’s heads, I’d start telling you all about how intense he is, about how he’s rehearsing for stuff that’s way out of my league, and about how he’s probably going to stay caught up in a world of his own for a while—but let’s face it. I’m not. So to me he’s still a Stranger, languid as he moves between shelves.
Everything about him screams casual, and it’s annoying. Here I am, overworked and nursing bruises and sore and on the verge of standing in line at a library of all places (getting stiffer), and there he is, carefree and sauntering by just out of reach. I kind of want to punch him, but not as hard as I already did.
You saw how well that turned out.
Love,
TBC...
Post Script -- Suspend your irritation at me and direct it towards non-vicious questions if at all. Answers will be coming eventually, if I can ever steal a couple more minutes to work on this NaNoWriMo.
no subject
Date: 2008-11-08 06:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-08 10:47 pm (UTC)