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Week One: Monday
Who: Kissy and Mair
Where: The nebulous rift between love and love lost (about one hundred yards from the school outside)
When: Monday afternoon
*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Where had she gone wrong? Her black skirt fluttered around one of the many pairs of footless black tights in her drawer. Ankles as cold as her broken heart before they popped into black adidas classics with white stripes. Even her hoodie was a somber dusty pink. And, okay, the skirt was black with white flowers on it, but it was totally representing the depths of her pain.
Kissy stood by, mourning where she and Adam once stood, happy together. Somehow, someway, a cruel black creature possibly covered in soot and with bad teeth had stepped between she and Adam. Love like theirs was fragile and pure, like a glass-blown ornament. A scent so fragile that heavy smoke would wash it away in acrid waves. Who was this nefarious skank who stole him away with magic and possibly a well-timed roofie?
Whoever she was, she had bested the beautiful faerie princes. Who now mourned her lost, misbegotten prince. She remembered this rock where he like...sat down and tried to pose. And that tree! Where she stood and totally posed. And that piece of grass where she...might...have possibly, like...stood or whatever. Well, chances were good one of them passed over it, so it was special. Oh Adam, she thought, clutching the fabric by her heart, then remembering her heart was on the left and switching sides, it totally shouldn't be this hard to find a boyfriend.
Maybe she had flyaway hair and didn't notice. Ohmigawd, or what if she had a booger from when she like, sneezed after looking at the sun? Fate was both fickle and cruel to treat her this way. She cursed the sun, her cold morning waffles, and most especially that demon-best Montana or Jamaica or Dallas or whatever-her-name was! In a fit of emotion, Kissy tore up his phone number and threw it on the ground into some mud. It totally would have been more satisfying if he had given it to her instead of getting it third-hand. At least, she heard from a reliable source that was his number. Or maybe she'd written it in her journal?
When she thought about it more, his number had more 5's in it, she thought. Ugh! Stamping her foot, Kissy was totally sure this was all Indiana...opolis...ia's fault. She was totally ruining Kissy's life! And now it was raining. Or like, just on her ankle. Either that or something unfamiliar and furry was licking her.
"Eeek!"
Where: The nebulous rift between love and love lost (about one hundred yards from the school outside)
When: Monday afternoon
Where had she gone wrong? Her black skirt fluttered around one of the many pairs of footless black tights in her drawer. Ankles as cold as her broken heart before they popped into black adidas classics with white stripes. Even her hoodie was a somber dusty pink. And, okay, the skirt was black with white flowers on it, but it was totally representing the depths of her pain.
Kissy stood by, mourning where she and Adam once stood, happy together. Somehow, someway, a cruel black creature possibly covered in soot and with bad teeth had stepped between she and Adam. Love like theirs was fragile and pure, like a glass-blown ornament. A scent so fragile that heavy smoke would wash it away in acrid waves. Who was this nefarious skank who stole him away with magic and possibly a well-timed roofie?
Whoever she was, she had bested the beautiful faerie princes. Who now mourned her lost, misbegotten prince. She remembered this rock where he like...sat down and tried to pose. And that tree! Where she stood and totally posed. And that piece of grass where she...might...have possibly, like...stood or whatever. Well, chances were good one of them passed over it, so it was special. Oh Adam, she thought, clutching the fabric by her heart, then remembering her heart was on the left and switching sides, it totally shouldn't be this hard to find a boyfriend.
Maybe she had flyaway hair and didn't notice. Ohmigawd, or what if she had a booger from when she like, sneezed after looking at the sun? Fate was both fickle and cruel to treat her this way. She cursed the sun, her cold morning waffles, and most especially that demon-best Montana or Jamaica or Dallas or whatever-her-name was! In a fit of emotion, Kissy tore up his phone number and threw it on the ground into some mud. It totally would have been more satisfying if he had given it to her instead of getting it third-hand. At least, she heard from a reliable source that was his number. Or maybe she'd written it in her journal?
When she thought about it more, his number had more 5's in it, she thought. Ugh! Stamping her foot, Kissy was totally sure this was all Indiana...opolis...ia's fault. She was totally ruining Kissy's life! And now it was raining. Or like, just on her ankle. Either that or something unfamiliar and furry was licking her.
"Eeek!"