|
Post by Shurochka Kropotkin on Apr 1, 2005 21:25:36 GMT -5
I laugh. A carrot just sounded hilarious to me.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound like an ass... How was school for you?"
|
|
|
Post by Lysander Bassarov on Apr 1, 2005 21:26:40 GMT -5
After getting the living crap kicked out of me, the man leaves. The officers return and sit me in the chair.
"YOu must have run into that wall hard, hu kid? Let that be a lesson that you socialist punks can't get away with anything. Now get outta here!"
They drag me to the doors and throw me out onto the steps. I slowly regain myself and try to find the nearest hotel, buton the way I find a bench. I start vomiting. As I sit there, I wonder if it is worth it. I know the answer. I must find some revolutionaries. There must be others out there, searchign just as I.
|
|
|
Post by Salome Weil on Apr 1, 2005 21:27:31 GMT -5
"I liked school. I liked learning so it was enjoyable for me. I was a socialist back then. They even had a nickname for me, but I won't tell you it. What about you?"
|
|
|
Post by Sakari Lehtinen on Apr 1, 2005 21:29:18 GMT -5
Sakari notices that he gets cut off and texted. Text messages cost more than calls, even if they are international calls. He suspects something's up.
I text back:
"Hey no worries. I can spot you, I have connections. I'll have it taken care of by tomorrow morning, and I'll meet you at the airport here."
|
|
|
Post by Shurochka Kropotkin on Apr 1, 2005 21:31:32 GMT -5
"Oh come on, you've gotta tell me now." I say, prying. "I dabbled in socialism a little myself, but I never had a nickname for it. What was your nickname?"
|
|
|
Post by Salome Weil on Apr 1, 2005 21:32:42 GMT -5
"I'm not telling you. It is an embarassing name. I would be ashamed to tell you. It is...personal."
|
|
|
Post by kitty on Apr 1, 2005 21:42:08 GMT -5
Deirdre gets the message, and she can hardly believe it. She has an out.
"Thank you so much, I'll see you tomorrow then." Is all she can think of saying. Deirdre gets out a piece of paper to write a note for her father.
She stares at the little yellow notepad, and a flood of bad images run through her head. She's never away before, not like this, because she's never had a place to run away to. Images of father beating mother flash through Deirdre's mind. No matter what she says, mother will be blamed for this. Her note is quick and to the point...
"I'm not coming back. This is my decision and mine alone." She packs a bag full of her essentials, and leaves behind almost everything. A small price to pay for freedom. Her parents are asleep finally, so she quietly makes her way down the stairs, stepping in just the right spots not to make them creak. Her mother is sitting on the couch, a bruise on her cheek, and one of her eyes is black. They stare at each other, and it doesn't take long for mother to understand what Deirdre has decided to do. She smiles weakly, but comfortably, and nods her head.
Without another word, Deirdre leaves the house, making her way to the airport, where she will spend the rest of the night.
|
|
|
Post by Shurochka Kropotkin on Apr 1, 2005 21:43:56 GMT -5
"Oh come on... It was in high school, how bad can it be?" I try to brainstorm something that I could exchange for her nickname, but nothing comes to mind.
|
|
|
Post by Salome Weil on Apr 1, 2005 21:46:35 GMT -5
"Fine..it isn't that huge a deal. I can whisper it to you, but I don't want to say it too loud..."
I lean over and tell him what I was called in highschool.
"I see I told you it was nothing. I am sure you can imagine why they would call me that. I was very pure in mind and behavior..."
|
|
|
Post by Eva Schicklgruber on Apr 1, 2005 21:49:15 GMT -5
I finish typing the letter, and carefully holding it by the corner carry it up to Rommel's office. I knock on the door. "I'm finished, sir. May I come in?"
|
|
|
Post by Shurochka Kropotkin on Apr 1, 2005 21:51:55 GMT -5
I smirk, mostly because it wasn't nearly as big of a deal as she made it out to be.
"Oh that's not so bad... It could've been much worse." I say, consolingly.
|
|
|
Post by Salome Weil on Apr 1, 2005 21:53:41 GMT -5
"I guess you are right. It was silly of me to make such a big deal of it, but I can be shy about those things..."
I smile to myself and feel a little foolish...
"...what is it like?"
|
|
|
Post by Varick Rommel on Apr 1, 2005 21:55:11 GMT -5
"Of course, Eva." Frederick replies, in a noticably better mood. He opens the door and sees her holding the letter.
|
|
Rodney Maestro
Card Carrying Member
Pacifist Anarchist
All you need is love
Posts: 238
|
Post by Rodney Maestro on Apr 1, 2005 21:57:52 GMT -5
Strolling through my church in France, I pick up a stray Koran and set it in the book rack, right next to the Bible. I sit in a pew. The World is so crazy right now, it makes me sad.
|
|
|
Post by Shurochka Kropotkin on Apr 1, 2005 22:02:06 GMT -5
At first I'm not sure what she's talking about, and am tempted to ask 'what, you mean high school..?', but then understand what she's asking.
"Ah, well... It can be either the best feeling in the world or the worst feeling in the world, or anything inbetween." I reply, somewhat enigmatically.
"Though I see things differently, since I feel that the body is nothing more than a vessel, maybe my opinion on this is a little different than most other's..."
|
|