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Don't joke me
By: CheeseWeasel
Zoe came in silently and full of stomping. She drops her backpack on a chair and mutters inaudibly "He's can't handle commitment right now." She proceeds to her room. Zoe slams the door.
She passes her mirror. "Don't joke me," she says to her reflection. She stairs for awhile. Then continues to speak. "He's got to much going for him to be tied down with you. It's your own fault you know." Zoe begins to shed tears. "If only..If only.." If only she hadn't latched on to him when she first moved here. Now all he wants to do is hang out with his human friends. Ernie has Bert. Gabi and Miles are awfully chummy. And Telly, my god, Telly. "I don't want to fade into obscurity." After all she wasn't a kid anymore. " I tried the ballet." She looks down at her pink ensemble. How unnatural. Ingrid doesn't do anything of the sort. She knew she was thought of as a tad obsessive but this was ridiculous. Not that it didn't have its uses. She looked around the room. No one was around. She went over to the door. "Locked." She let out her nasally laugh. She pulls out her pocket knife. "Look at me, speaking in third person." One line down. Three lines across. One line down. One line across. One line up. The next down on a 45. Now up at the other 45. And straight down. And a circle.
Don't joke me
By: CheeseWeasel
Zoe came in silently and full of stomping. She drops her backpack on a chair and mutters inaudibly "He's can't handle commitment right now." She proceeds to her room. Zoe slams the door.
She passes her mirror. "Don't joke me," she says to her reflection. She stairs for awhile. Then continues to speak. "He's got to much going for him to be tied down with you. It's your own fault you know." Zoe begins to shed tears. "If only..If only.." If only she hadn't latched on to him when she first moved here. Now all he wants to do is hang out with his human friends. Ernie has Bert. Gabi and Miles are awfully chummy. And Telly, my god, Telly. "I don't want to fade into obscurity." After all she wasn't a kid anymore. " I tried the ballet." She looks down at her pink ensemble. How unnatural. Ingrid doesn't do anything of the sort. She knew she was thought of as a tad obsessive but this was ridiculous. Not that it didn't have its uses. She looked around the room. No one was around. She went over to the door. "Locked." She let out her nasally laugh. She pulls out her pocket knife. "Look at me, speaking in third person." One line down. Three lines across. One line down. One line across. One line up. The next down on a 45. Now up at the other 45. And straight down. And a circle.