Saturday, June 1, 2013

Fictionograhpy Friday, on, ahem, Saturday


           Yes! The official kick-off for the link-up Fictionography. Excitement all around, eh? Okay, here's it is:


http://mrg.bz/F87e2v

Writing Prompt

Friends

Something lumpy bashes through my sleepy brain. And again. I crack an eye. All I see is the back wall.

"Stop it!" It doesn't like the intimidating shout I meant it to be. More like a whimper through a soggy sponge. The pillow thumps my head again. Okay, that's it. Just because Tony is a nutty early bird doesn't mean he has to wake the whole house.

I whip to a sitting position. "I said. . . Kaylenne?"

 My best friend, my only friend drops the pillow and grins at me. "You don't have work today."

 Queen of the obvious.

I groan. "Good-bye."

 She tugs at the blankets. But my grip is awake enough to hold tight.

 My head. The pillow. Again.

 "Come on, Chris," she says. "The world is out there. Just waiting to be conquered."

 "And it's Saturday. Universally known as the day when morning begins at 10 am," I say. "At least."

 "Pllleeeasse!"

 I roll over. The second my head hits the pillow though, I'm awake. "Wait." I shoot up in bed. "What are you doing here?"

 "Waking you, duh." Kaylenne rolls her eyes.

 "In my house. In my room." I look her and down. "On my bed. Now?"

 "We've been over this."

 I run a hand through my bangs. Hm, so we have. A few seconds ago,I guess.

 Kaylenne jumps up and I loose my grip on the blankets. "When is the last time we had the whole day to do whatever we wanted? The whole day!"

 I slouch. My blankets are on the floor. My senses are fully awake. My friend is standing in the middle of room about to drag me out into the dreaded world of people. It's to late. There's no going back to sleep now.

I sigh. "Fine. Just let me get dressed."

I rummage through a moving box and pull out some jeans, and faded blue T-shirt, and mismatched socks. When  I come out of the bathroom, Kaylenne tisks her tongue.

 "How," she says. "How? You are the only person I know that when you're ready to leave, instead of looking refreshed and alive, you look. . ." She gestures to me and shakes her head.

 "Like I've been wadded up and shoved in the back of a wardrobe drawer for a month?" It's how I feel.

 "Exactly," she chirps. Always happy, that's Kaylenne. Maybe that's why we're friends. I need happy, and she needs. . . well, I don't really know.

 She tosses my plaid converse shoes to me and soon we stand outside the very red front door. Why red? Just why?

 A few seconds pass. A full minute. We still stand there. The sky is clear and large blue. The birds have roused a nice mid-spring chorus.

 I'm not a good judge of time, but it has to have been five minutes by now. Five minutes of just standing here in front of this terribly red door.

 "Um." I glance at her and then find interest in the porch. "What did you have in mind?"

 "Oh," she says a bit surprised, a bit quiet. "I was hoping you would have come up with something at this point."
                  

          

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