Skip to main content
Like
Create new Glog
previous
next
Email share
26 views | 0 likes | 0 reposts
the beginning novelist.
What am I doing? Those were the words running through dominie's head. Here she was, driving from everything she knew. She knew where her friends lived, she knew their last names and their middle names, what they did with their free time and the dramatic novelties of their everyday lives.
she knew that dominie would not catch a glimpse of her. That would be very innappropriate. She didnt know that a month before she left that keenle had tried out all her talents to find something suitable to impress and say goodbye with. She couldnt very well dance her sorrow across, now could she? She tried her
What she didnt know was that they had tears streaming down their face identical to hers. They knew her last name, middle name, what she did in her free time and all that jazz. She didnt know that her best friend keenle had run after the car, only after
hand at writing, and found that even though she wasnt a very good writer, that confronting the fact that her same-sex-soulmate (to use illiteration) was in fact leaving, soothed her. "you shouldnt be
soothed. You should
be sad. Her mind
reminded her.
She instantly was glum. Why did she always do this to herself? After writing for a while keenle got to thinking, ^that time was so funny...^ just random thoughts about her and dominie. She thought about what they should buy her for going away, instantly she thought of what to get her. Even if dominie didnt get it
she would convince her friends to get a heart. A heart with the engraving, "dakota was here." you know? The heart representing all her friends hearts. Keenle hoped she would get it right away. Their minds were full of similarily intelligent things, why wouldnt she get it? This is where keenle throws in an aprupt end to her story. She thought and thought about the right words to end it. But she couldnt, her story was left unfinished.
But I know the right words.
Everybody leaves sometime.
