I have been gone much to long. I do NOT like this one, how do you describe Blah? Blah is just… blah! Ugh!
-I own nothing.
Blah.
Hermione Granger was always doing something. Always. The exception to that was a Friday night she had off work. She cleaned her entire flat, made dinner, and she even reorganized her bookshelves. Twice.
She was even contemplating doing it again. Should she organize it by author, style of book, title, or even topic? The choices were abundant.
She flopped onto her couch and decided to watch the telly. She looked down at her gray sweatshirt and running shorts and felt like her plain sweatshirt must feel; blah. She didn't feel anything at the moment.
How odd, she mused, doesn't everyone feel something? Well I guess Blah is a feeling.
She heard the door to her flat open and she was pounced upon by a redhead.
"Charlie get off me!" She yelled, giggling as he tickled her sides.
He didn't give up and before she started to fight back she had a fleeting thought, Blah sure didn't last long.