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capri0mni...'cause, basically, I was tired of having to make a seperate post to LJ if I wanted to post a poll. And I wanted to have the same icons in both places (15 is no longer enough!)
In other news, the real world is depressing me (on both the global and personal level, though I think those levels are in cahoots).
But I have cunning plan:
Starting .... NOW:
The tiny, pinkish grey pebble was not a pebble at all. It was an egg. Gregory didn't know that when he picked it up. But he soon found out. His first clue was when it started wiggling in his pocket, causing the three pennies, the nickel and two dimes to jingle, even though he was sitting down, not walking anywhere, and his admittedly fidgetty hand was no where near his pocket.
It was a most annoying thing to happen in the library, even though there was no one sitting near him, and no one else could hear it (probably). But being in the very quiet of the library made Gregory hyper-aware of any noise he was responsible for: the scratch of his pencil on the paper, the squeak of his sneakers on the library floor, and now, the jingling of his spare change in his pocket. Especially since that last bit wasn't supposed to be happening. Pebbles did not jiggle coins on their own, unless they were not pebbles at all.
He began to wonder what it was he had picked up, and, even more, began to wonder why: he wasn't the sort of person to gather pebbles on a whim, especially not small, pink, cute pebbles speckled with grey. He began to wonder if it was the creature inside that had called him to do it, and what sort of creature it was. But it was too late now.
In other news, the real world is depressing me (on both the global and personal level, though I think those levels are in cahoots).
But I have cunning plan:
- I have a minute timer app.
- I will set it to 10 mins.
- I will start the timer, and start writing: something silly and cheerful and unreal.
- I will stop when the timer stops, even if it's in the middle of a sentance, or a word.
- I will invite people to continue the story in comments, and pick up where I leave off.
Starting .... NOW:
The tiny, pinkish grey pebble was not a pebble at all. It was an egg. Gregory didn't know that when he picked it up. But he soon found out. His first clue was when it started wiggling in his pocket, causing the three pennies, the nickel and two dimes to jingle, even though he was sitting down, not walking anywhere, and his admittedly fidgetty hand was no where near his pocket.
It was a most annoying thing to happen in the library, even though there was no one sitting near him, and no one else could hear it (probably). But being in the very quiet of the library made Gregory hyper-aware of any noise he was responsible for: the scratch of his pencil on the paper, the squeak of his sneakers on the library floor, and now, the jingling of his spare change in his pocket. Especially since that last bit wasn't supposed to be happening. Pebbles did not jiggle coins on their own, unless they were not pebbles at all.
He began to wonder what it was he had picked up, and, even more, began to wonder why: he wasn't the sort of person to gather pebbles on a whim, especially not small, pink, cute pebbles speckled with grey. He began to wonder if it was the creature inside that had called him to do it, and what sort of creature it was. But it was too late now.
