(no subject)
busy.
You could say that Sheena was a busy person. Attending school full time, English major, she was also working the night shift at a local used bookstore. Until a few months ago, she was a bassist in a local band which had disbanded due to the death of their lead singer before that, the guitarist random road trip for more than a few days out West.
The lights hummed over head, just barely heard over the music that was playing from a small beat up boom box under the counter. The smell of used books, old and, well, used paper, hung in the air creating its own strange brand of perfume that Sheena had grown to enjoy, and even, relish as an island in the rushing river that was life in the city. Very few customers were coming and going at this hour, just one or two an hour. She continued to chew her gum, Winterfresh in fact, while thinking about what to do with her hair this month. Previously it had been in bright pink liberty spikes, long and blue, curly and orange, and her favorite, chin length pixie cut in black and white.
“If she takes comfort in books why isn’t she reading?” people would think as they browsed the store. It wasn’t that the manager condemned this, it was more of a matter of alertness. When Sheena opened a book’s covers and dives in, reading with her deep brown eyes the lines, the stanzas, the paragraphs, the monologues, the dialogues, every printed letter. Last time she was reading on the job, the store was very nearly robbed under her nose.
She wondered where Disarray was and maybe if she wanted to catch up over coffee when she got off of work. Sheena pulled out her only and cell phone, dialing the number of Disarray’s apartment. It rang once, twice, and then it was picked up.
“‘Ellooo?” a familiar voice asked into the phone. Not Disarray’s, a male’s voice.
“Um, Hi, Eryk. Is Disarray there?” she asked, wondering if it was drunkenness she caught in his voice.
“Uh, nope. I’ll tell her you called,” he said. A giggle from what Sheena thought to be another male and then a crash of what was quite possibly a drum set. Eryk dropped the phone and the impact sounded a thud in Sheena’s ear. She hung up the phone quickly with a sigh. Her brother, or how ever Eryk was Disarray’s family, seemed preoccupied, drunk, and just very busy. Plus he never got her name so her message would never make to her friend.
Oh well, she thought with a dismissive sigh as she returned to the train of thought on hairstyles and colors.
You could say that Sheena was a busy person. Attending school full time, English major, she was also working the night shift at a local used bookstore. Until a few months ago, she was a bassist in a local band which had disbanded due to the death of their lead singer before that, the guitarist random road trip for more than a few days out West.
The lights hummed over head, just barely heard over the music that was playing from a small beat up boom box under the counter. The smell of used books, old and, well, used paper, hung in the air creating its own strange brand of perfume that Sheena had grown to enjoy, and even, relish as an island in the rushing river that was life in the city. Very few customers were coming and going at this hour, just one or two an hour. She continued to chew her gum, Winterfresh in fact, while thinking about what to do with her hair this month. Previously it had been in bright pink liberty spikes, long and blue, curly and orange, and her favorite, chin length pixie cut in black and white.
“If she takes comfort in books why isn’t she reading?” people would think as they browsed the store. It wasn’t that the manager condemned this, it was more of a matter of alertness. When Sheena opened a book’s covers and dives in, reading with her deep brown eyes the lines, the stanzas, the paragraphs, the monologues, the dialogues, every printed letter. Last time she was reading on the job, the store was very nearly robbed under her nose.
She wondered where Disarray was and maybe if she wanted to catch up over coffee when she got off of work. Sheena pulled out her only and cell phone, dialing the number of Disarray’s apartment. It rang once, twice, and then it was picked up.
“‘Ellooo?” a familiar voice asked into the phone. Not Disarray’s, a male’s voice.
“Um, Hi, Eryk. Is Disarray there?” she asked, wondering if it was drunkenness she caught in his voice.
“Uh, nope. I’ll tell her you called,” he said. A giggle from what Sheena thought to be another male and then a crash of what was quite possibly a drum set. Eryk dropped the phone and the impact sounded a thud in Sheena’s ear. She hung up the phone quickly with a sigh. Her brother, or how ever Eryk was Disarray’s family, seemed preoccupied, drunk, and just very busy. Plus he never got her name so her message would never make to her friend.
Oh well, she thought with a dismissive sigh as she returned to the train of thought on hairstyles and colors.