Status: Coming Soon
Just Breathe
The Sighting
Stella Davenport is: Unpacking
She had organized her stuff by colour in her suitcase, which, to any onlooker would have seemed pointless because right now she was grabbing random items of clothing and tossing them in the air. Stella watched as the brightly coloured clothes littered the floor.
“What on Earth are you doing?” Asked her Grandmother, peering in through the door. Anne Pillar knew that her granddaughter was a strange one, it was refreshing to see someone so, unique. Sometimes, though, it scared her.
“Organized chaos.” Smiled Stella, dancing about her room, stepping on her clothes and not caring. Then she walked calmly to her suitcase again and pulled out a large steel makeup case.
“I didn't know you were interested in cosmetics.” Cooed Anne, smiling, something normal.
Stella smiled, and shook her head. “Not cosmetics, Grandmother.”
Stella opened the large case and proceeded to pull out tiny little bottles in every colour of the rainbow. She arranged them on the window sill. While she pulled more bottles out of the seemingly endless collection Anne said,
“Nail polish?”
“It attracts Karma!” She smiled, still pulling bottles and bottles from the bottomless case. “I change the colour everyday.
“Yes, well . . . ” Said Anne, sounding not as convincing as she had meant to sound. Her voice betrayed her thoughts: Loony. Anne left the room wordlessly.
Once Stella had arranged each bottle as she liked she took a couple of steps back to admire her work. About two hundred little bottles of colour, none the same as another, and smiled.
Her nails were a bright orange today and she had painted them on the plane.
Stella found her bathing suit in a neat heap ion the floor, and she went into the bathroom to put it on. The way she had arranged her toiletries were as gruesome as her clothes. She had taken the contents of her amenities bag and dumped in unceremoniously on the counter.
Stella stepped out of the bathroom and out of her new room, before she turned off the light she took one last look around. Her expensive clothes curtsey of her mother strewn across the floor, covering the carpet, with the exception of the bare area for her morning yoga. The disastrous bathroom counter, the bare dresser and the windowsill, which seemed to be a work of art in the disaster zone room.
Harmony.
Stella walked backwards out of the front door, down the walkway and too the elevator. She turned forward only once to press the ground floor button and turned around quickly. Stella walked backwards for the obvious reason that she didn't want to see anything unpleasant or dangerous coming her way. If it hit her or harmed her, then at least she would have to look at it. Plus, nits were less likely to take up residence in her hair if she didn't look at them.
As she walked across the parking lot of Harbour Side and across the small paved road that was marked 17 and a half miles per hour in the small gated community, she missed the limo go by. She missed the curious stare of a boy texting on his phone. She missed the way he lowered his sunglasses to stare at her longer.
She missed him.
She had organized her stuff by colour in her suitcase, which, to any onlooker would have seemed pointless because right now she was grabbing random items of clothing and tossing them in the air. Stella watched as the brightly coloured clothes littered the floor.
“What on Earth are you doing?” Asked her Grandmother, peering in through the door. Anne Pillar knew that her granddaughter was a strange one, it was refreshing to see someone so, unique. Sometimes, though, it scared her.
“Organized chaos.” Smiled Stella, dancing about her room, stepping on her clothes and not caring. Then she walked calmly to her suitcase again and pulled out a large steel makeup case.
“I didn't know you were interested in cosmetics.” Cooed Anne, smiling, something normal.
Stella smiled, and shook her head. “Not cosmetics, Grandmother.”
Stella opened the large case and proceeded to pull out tiny little bottles in every colour of the rainbow. She arranged them on the window sill. While she pulled more bottles out of the seemingly endless collection Anne said,
“Nail polish?”
“It attracts Karma!” She smiled, still pulling bottles and bottles from the bottomless case. “I change the colour everyday.
“Yes, well . . . ” Said Anne, sounding not as convincing as she had meant to sound. Her voice betrayed her thoughts: Loony. Anne left the room wordlessly.
Once Stella had arranged each bottle as she liked she took a couple of steps back to admire her work. About two hundred little bottles of colour, none the same as another, and smiled.
Her nails were a bright orange today and she had painted them on the plane.
Stella found her bathing suit in a neat heap ion the floor, and she went into the bathroom to put it on. The way she had arranged her toiletries were as gruesome as her clothes. She had taken the contents of her amenities bag and dumped in unceremoniously on the counter.
Stella stepped out of the bathroom and out of her new room, before she turned off the light she took one last look around. Her expensive clothes curtsey of her mother strewn across the floor, covering the carpet, with the exception of the bare area for her morning yoga. The disastrous bathroom counter, the bare dresser and the windowsill, which seemed to be a work of art in the disaster zone room.
Harmony.
Stella walked backwards out of the front door, down the walkway and too the elevator. She turned forward only once to press the ground floor button and turned around quickly. Stella walked backwards for the obvious reason that she didn't want to see anything unpleasant or dangerous coming her way. If it hit her or harmed her, then at least she would have to look at it. Plus, nits were less likely to take up residence in her hair if she didn't look at them.
As she walked across the parking lot of Harbour Side and across the small paved road that was marked 17 and a half miles per hour in the small gated community, she missed the limo go by. She missed the curious stare of a boy texting on his phone. She missed the way he lowered his sunglasses to stare at her longer.
She missed him.
♠ ♠ ♠
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