In a dust-inhabitated appartment lay four pieces of furniture. Each cloaked with a dusted sheet, and in the corners of the kingdom, trash, buttons, tacks, and other miscellaneous brick a brack lay. In the floor, wooden and dirty, there lay a figure with a book lightly draped over its head. this figure, a girl, apparently in her early twenties, looked as if she were only twelve through traits inherited by the family she had left only four years ago. her back was tinted gray from laying on the floor so long, and her white clothing had almost no appearance of ever being any other color than a wrench.
The book, with its tattered leather covering, shone bright in gold lettering, "THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE", and the pages creamed from age. A teacup holding burnt coffee that had been conceived that morning sat, half-drunken, next to it all, dust beginning to form on the edges of the smaller of it.
The girl stirred. A whistle from her nostrils was released, and suddenly she shook. A yawn from under the literature formed, and suddenly the head jerked up. The leathery book fell with a "thud" against her stomach and a loud mumble was let loose. The backing of her coacoa hair frizzed, she scratched at it and looked up at the clock. It, too, was rather dirty, and she hadn't bothered changing the time on it for daylight savings.
The little daylight not shielded by the shades hurt her eyes, and so she stretched, and with a yawn, rubbed them. Realizing how late it was, (the early of the evening) she attempted to stand, but her calves were too used to being in one position. Finally, after several failed attempted, she grabbed the arm of what appeared to be a cloaked sofa and drug herself up. Her elbows ached slightly as she drug herself to another room. A few groans, and then the tattered, dusty hoodshirt that was worn before was flung out of a doorway and into a hall. A few moments later, she stepped out in an old jogging suit and some worn running shoes.
She mumbled and looked up at the clock again. Stepping out of the apartment door, she fumbled to find a lightswitch, soon recalling she had been in darkness the entire time. She did what she had done every day for the past four years, she strode down the long, old hallway and to the elevator, which she soon found to be broken, again.
She placed the oddly hellish compact disk into the discman, and placed the phones over her head. Another mumble, more or less sounding as if she were to say, "Warm ups...again," as she jogged down the stairs.
Almost automatically, she fell into a trance. The music was almost hypnotizing. "Dido - Thank You" ran through her head several times before she began to think thoughts of sense.
The day was humid; and the streets smelled of rain, while sidestreets of hemp. She looked up at the clouds when she emerged from the apartment doors. They were a murky gray, not uncommon for London.
She began thinking about when she was younger. Now at age 24, she had passed through all grades in her old school. From kindergarten through fifth, at elementry school, and then she received the letter. The letter changed her life forever, and she enjoyed reading it alloud in front of her family. Every chance she could, she would caress the emblem on the letter, and read the parchment over and over. She often dreamed about what this school would be like, and how much she would enjoy it. Her parents both congradulated her, "Riane! Riane! Oh I'm so happy for you!" her father had once said.
The first day at Hogwarts was the best day of all. The sorting hat, at first frightening, was quite enjoyable. She was placed in Gryffindor house, "The best of the best!" her friend had told her. After completing seven years at Hogwarts, (and winning quite a few quidditch games), she graduated and decided to live in te muggle world. Out of college, she had been studying for her masters in Asian Art, she had completed her last year, and now was free to get a job.
The book, with its tattered leather covering, shone bright in gold lettering, "THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE", and the pages creamed from age. A teacup holding burnt coffee that had been conceived that morning sat, half-drunken, next to it all, dust beginning to form on the edges of the smaller of it.
The girl stirred. A whistle from her nostrils was released, and suddenly she shook. A yawn from under the literature formed, and suddenly the head jerked up. The leathery book fell with a "thud" against her stomach and a loud mumble was let loose. The backing of her coacoa hair frizzed, she scratched at it and looked up at the clock. It, too, was rather dirty, and she hadn't bothered changing the time on it for daylight savings.
The little daylight not shielded by the shades hurt her eyes, and so she stretched, and with a yawn, rubbed them. Realizing how late it was, (the early of the evening) she attempted to stand, but her calves were too used to being in one position. Finally, after several failed attempted, she grabbed the arm of what appeared to be a cloaked sofa and drug herself up. Her elbows ached slightly as she drug herself to another room. A few groans, and then the tattered, dusty hoodshirt that was worn before was flung out of a doorway and into a hall. A few moments later, she stepped out in an old jogging suit and some worn running shoes.
She mumbled and looked up at the clock again. Stepping out of the apartment door, she fumbled to find a lightswitch, soon recalling she had been in darkness the entire time. She did what she had done every day for the past four years, she strode down the long, old hallway and to the elevator, which she soon found to be broken, again.
She placed the oddly hellish compact disk into the discman, and placed the phones over her head. Another mumble, more or less sounding as if she were to say, "Warm ups...again," as she jogged down the stairs.
Almost automatically, she fell into a trance. The music was almost hypnotizing. "Dido - Thank You" ran through her head several times before she began to think thoughts of sense.
The day was humid; and the streets smelled of rain, while sidestreets of hemp. She looked up at the clouds when she emerged from the apartment doors. They were a murky gray, not uncommon for London.
She began thinking about when she was younger. Now at age 24, she had passed through all grades in her old school. From kindergarten through fifth, at elementry school, and then she received the letter. The letter changed her life forever, and she enjoyed reading it alloud in front of her family. Every chance she could, she would caress the emblem on the letter, and read the parchment over and over. She often dreamed about what this school would be like, and how much she would enjoy it. Her parents both congradulated her, "Riane! Riane! Oh I'm so happy for you!" her father had once said.
The first day at Hogwarts was the best day of all. The sorting hat, at first frightening, was quite enjoyable. She was placed in Gryffindor house, "The best of the best!" her friend had told her. After completing seven years at Hogwarts, (and winning quite a few quidditch games), she graduated and decided to live in te muggle world. Out of college, she had been studying for her masters in Asian Art, she had completed her last year, and now was free to get a job.