Author's Note: The idea is completely that of a friend of mine on
livejournal, Barbara. And I haven't really decided whether this is good or
bad yet. Probably the latter.
Author's Explanation: I have a friend called Frog who is the founder of the
Cill Blinton Society, of which I am also a member. This is kind of a
parody, kind of a serious thing. We at the CBS believe that Mr Clinton (or
Mr Blinton as we call him) was a brilliant president and should not be
judged on those few mistakes since as a president he did very well.
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She didn't go by Emma; she'd found the response altogether too tame for her liking. She wanted to live the high-life: concerts, shows, political meetings. A girl never got anywhere in that world with a name like Emma. No, she went by Frog. In any case, she felt it was the proper way to relate. At present she was standing in a room brimming with people chatting and buzzing around her. She stood on her own, bobbing slightly to the rhythm of her headphones. Her gaze was fixed, though, on a man standing not so far away from her, a man she had seen only in the media, never up close.
The intensity of her stare affected the man on whom it fell. He listened amiably to the two women he was standing with but his mind was on the girl. Who was she? He had certainly never seen her before. And yet.and yet there was something about her that made him wonder. While most of the room was drinking champagne and speaking on topics about which they knew nothing, she stood alone, silent, and she stared.
It took her a few moments to realise how conspicuous she was. The people around her had moved away and she found herself standing by herself in the clearing of a crowded room. She slipped back into anonymity, moving between the huddles of people towards the corner of the room. Her movement elicited a slight flick of the man's head and something within her fluttered.
She had come here to meet him. The problem was that everyone else had too. She could recognise and name most of the celebrities in the room and took pride in the fact that it was she that had caught his eye.
He couldn't see where she had gone and feared she had left before he could find out who she was. Excusing himself from the two women he pressed through the people in the direction he had seen her leave. He finally saw her sitting in the corner, still bobbing slightly. She looked up sharply, and for an instant their eyes met. The force of what hit him then pushed a gasp out of him. He knew then that she was the only one. Of an entire ballroom full of people whom he had known for so long, this mystery girl was the only one who he really was.
Cill flashed her an apprehensive but winning smile. Suddenly overcome with an alien feeling of genuine exposure, he stepped towards her.
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She didn't go by Emma; she'd found the response altogether too tame for her liking. She wanted to live the high-life: concerts, shows, political meetings. A girl never got anywhere in that world with a name like Emma. No, she went by Frog. In any case, she felt it was the proper way to relate. At present she was standing in a room brimming with people chatting and buzzing around her. She stood on her own, bobbing slightly to the rhythm of her headphones. Her gaze was fixed, though, on a man standing not so far away from her, a man she had seen only in the media, never up close.
The intensity of her stare affected the man on whom it fell. He listened amiably to the two women he was standing with but his mind was on the girl. Who was she? He had certainly never seen her before. And yet.and yet there was something about her that made him wonder. While most of the room was drinking champagne and speaking on topics about which they knew nothing, she stood alone, silent, and she stared.
It took her a few moments to realise how conspicuous she was. The people around her had moved away and she found herself standing by herself in the clearing of a crowded room. She slipped back into anonymity, moving between the huddles of people towards the corner of the room. Her movement elicited a slight flick of the man's head and something within her fluttered.
She had come here to meet him. The problem was that everyone else had too. She could recognise and name most of the celebrities in the room and took pride in the fact that it was she that had caught his eye.
He couldn't see where she had gone and feared she had left before he could find out who she was. Excusing himself from the two women he pressed through the people in the direction he had seen her leave. He finally saw her sitting in the corner, still bobbing slightly. She looked up sharply, and for an instant their eyes met. The force of what hit him then pushed a gasp out of him. He knew then that she was the only one. Of an entire ballroom full of people whom he had known for so long, this mystery girl was the only one who he really was.
Cill flashed her an apprehensive but winning smile. Suddenly overcome with an alien feeling of genuine exposure, he stepped towards her.