Helga G. Pataki
New Member
Where The Poet And The Predator Collide
Posts: 3
|
Post by Helga G. Pataki on Dec 13, 2010 14:51:30 GMT -5
As the light from the rising sun made its way past dark pink curtains, Helga slowly shifted in her sleep, mumbling words of poetry under her breath and occasionally sighing softly. The gentle chirping of a morning dove outside of her window began to rouse the girl from her slumber and she blinked once or twice against the rays of the sun. Turning from her window to hopefully catch a few more minutes of sleep, her eyes found the digital numbers of her clock.
7:48am
She blinked once.
Twice.
And finally, she blinked a third time before her brain fully awoke and processed the numbers. Her azure eyes widened and her pupils contracted, and Helga leapt from the warmth of her covers and screamed loudly, "I'M GOING TO BE LATE FOR SCHOOL!"
|
|
|
Post by Big Bob Pataki on Dec 13, 2010 17:07:01 GMT -5
Bob Pataki glanced up toward the ceiling as he sipped his coffee, and rolled his eyes at his second daughter's exclamation. "Great," he muttered, folding his newspaper over to the business section. His own face peered up from the black and white newsprint and proclaimed a huge slash on prices for the back-to-school sale. He glanced at his wife and rolled his eyes. "The girl's up, finally."
|
|