Fred Burkle (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} notjustageek) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} wariscoming,@ 2010-02-10 18:17:00 |
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What: Meeting
Where: Kitchen
When: Afternoonish
Rating: Doubtfully very high
Status: Incomplete
Fred never, ever wanted to see a Twinkie again. For that past couple of days, she'd had an intense craving for food of any kind and the sweet cake-like thing had become her favorite. She knew, embarrassingly enough, where that feeling had come from too. She'd been high, or something like high. Someone had gotten her high, most likely those rocks they'd been talking about on the boards. Kryptonite. But she didn't remember ever picking up a rock and the effects had worn off.
Her fridge was extremely empty since she'd eaten nearly everything she'd bought and at least put on five pounds. She felt like it. So after a search turned up nothing in hers, she headed downstairs to the communal kitchen and opened the fridge. She made a triumphant noise as she spotted the carton of orange juice and pulled it out, hugging it to her chest. "Thank you," she whispered and grabbed a glass, pouring it nearly to the top.
After putting the carton back, she took a big drink and felt the miserable feeling in her stomach retreat slightly. "Like ambrosia," she stated to no one. "Godly ambrosia."