ABORTED effort:
Close all that you have.
You ask way too much.
*Sniff* I guess that means my prayer won't be answered. *Sniffs again* I don't own Inuyasha. *Finds pre-marked page in the dictionary* Below is a work of f-i-c-t-i-o-n (feel free to look up the word if you need to). Now on to the story…
Disclaimer
It was the first day of school. Classes were okay. Math (that age old menace to free time) had just finished. Finally, finally, finally Rumiko's composition class had arrived. She could hardly wait for the teacher's arrival in class. She had heard so much about her and how well she taught.
"Hello class."
"Hello Teacher."
"Pull out a piece of paper and write. Write about anything that comes to mind."
'What do I write about?'
"And class, don't think about 'What do I write about?' but 'What isn't there to write about?'"
'Kindness. I want to write about kindness.'
First kiss.
