Post by Noela Kape on Dec 14, 2010 21:41:14 GMT -5
It was raining, which was good, but something about today made Noela feel rather alone. It was the thunder and the lightning, two things she could really very much go without. With all the ruckus from the storm she couldn’t bring herself to go out with her umbrella like she usually did, so she felt trapped. She sat quietly curled up in an armchair staring at the words of Lewis Carroll as he described the talking flowers of wonderland. Usually they’d make her feel better, less like she had let herself down by only befriending plants.
“I wonder if he could hear them too,” Noela sighed. It would not surprise her if he would turn out to be a mutant who could talk to them as she could. “He got so many things right, afterall,” she muttered turning the page. It was always so curious to her how he came up with the flower’s personalities. He was spot on when it came to how they acted. Roses would only reply to her, and never addressed her first. Daisies were terrible trouble to her because they were loud and enthusiastic and all talked rapidly at the same time. They gave her an awful head ache most of the time.
A loud clap of thunder made Noela jump, and she anxiously glanced at the window. Her heart nearly beat out of her chest, and she burrowed herself deeper into the safety of her fuzzy blanket. She most certainly did not like storms.
“I wonder if he could hear them too,” Noela sighed. It would not surprise her if he would turn out to be a mutant who could talk to them as she could. “He got so many things right, afterall,” she muttered turning the page. It was always so curious to her how he came up with the flower’s personalities. He was spot on when it came to how they acted. Roses would only reply to her, and never addressed her first. Daisies were terrible trouble to her because they were loud and enthusiastic and all talked rapidly at the same time. They gave her an awful head ache most of the time.
A loud clap of thunder made Noela jump, and she anxiously glanced at the window. Her heart nearly beat out of her chest, and she burrowed herself deeper into the safety of her fuzzy blanket. She most certainly did not like storms.