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Woot! A journal! Wonder if I'll actually use it???
Whatever I want it to be! A place of magic, a sounding board, or whatever.
Watching people roam endlessly past on the way to classes, the girl passes unnoticed among them. Able to listen unusually well, she can pick out the voices of those she knows, but do not know her. She passes the croud with an occupied look, lost in her own head. Barely hearing the crude comments of her peers, she hangs a left in the hallway and heads for the library. The door to the outside leaks in the cold winter's wind, blowing her tan trenchcoat around her legs and messanger bag. The biting wind heralding snow, she pushes open the door to her haven and greets its protecters, then signs her name in blood at the plinth. The warm air stirring the ringlets in her hair, she makes for the back, loosining her coat to drape from her bag. Knowing she has only a short amount of time to pick out a new world from its home, her hazel eyes dart behind her oval black metal glasses. She scans the titles of these wonders and finally, one catches her eye. Her hand creeps out from her side, resting breafly on the world's spine before pulling it from its home. Walking back to the front from the wooden crossroads behind her, she places her treasure on the plinth before her and asks, "I would like to check this out." The keeper smiles and asks if that will be all. She smiles back and agrees that, yes, that is all. The keeper nods and goes back to to the symphony behind her. The girl nods to the keeper-in-training and takes her place among the thrones. She sits, looks over her treasure, and begins to read it. Just as she passes the first page, a raucous bell tolls many times. The girl, startled, looks around, a lost look in her eyes. Only then as people begin to file out does she realize that she, too, must move on. Gathering up her belongings, she dons her coat and walks through the door, the counter clicking three times. As she moves on to her next destination, the wind picks up again, playing with her coattails like it was saying it did not want her to leave. Sighing, she hitches up her bag and disapears into the croud.

This is usually what runs through my head during *shiver* SCHOOL. So yeah. I might do more. Or not. Depending on the comments or how I'm feeling.

User Comments: [1]
Community Member

Mon Sep 10, 2007 @ 11:18pm

That was....Interesting....but good, very good

User Comments: [1]
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