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Floppy Haired Boy
I carefully loaded the long planks into the car boot. I had to fold the backseats down so the planks would fit. I really should have asked my parents for a larger car. I never considered how hard it would be moving things. I forced the boot shut and climbed into the front seat, ducking under the overhanging planks. Luckily for me I’m only short, so I easy fitted. I wasn’t sure how I was going to see out the back though.
I slowly and carefully backed out of the shared driveway on the way to the dump. I never completely realised driving on inner city roads were hell. No wonder my parents never wanted to take me out for driving lessons or drive me somewhere on these roads. People are so impatient and disregard P plater’s inexperience, especially ones who are short and have no idea where they’re going. I had to pull over and set up my GPS to give me directions to the nearest dump. After five minutes of searching, I finally found a legitimate looking one and headed on my way again.
I was looking forward to living on my own from then on. All the freedom I would now have and I wouldn’t have to go to anymore stuffy parties my parents were invited to. I would no longer be associated with the snobs, I wouldn’t be daddy’s little girl or mummy’s baby anymore. I was allowed to be my own person and no one could stop me, except for those nagging voices of my parents in my head. I turned on the radio in an attempt to drown them out. I didn’t need them anymore.
I pulled into the dump and drove onto the platform where the contents of my car were weighed. I was allowed through. The dump looked very different to what I thought. I imagined it to be huge piles of discarded items out in the open. Instead it was an enclosed building with wide slots labelled and located in the middle of the room. It was fascinating. I reversed my car into a spot next to a batted sedan. The car might as well have been dumped here too.
A young man with floppy brown hair climbed out of the car with a few canvases in his arms. They were covered with a variety of substances ranging from paint to shampoo. He was a curious looking guy. He was unshaven and had dark bags under his eyes but despite all this, something attracted me to him. It could have been his intriguing and troubled hazel eyes . He was different to anyone I had normally associated with, considering the fact I used to live in a sheltered environment. I felt an undying urge to start a conversation with him and I had a feeling he was going to help me change my life.
I slowly and carefully backed out of the shared driveway on the way to the dump. I never completely realised driving on inner city roads were hell. No wonder my parents never wanted to take me out for driving lessons or drive me somewhere on these roads. People are so impatient and disregard P plater’s inexperience, especially ones who are short and have no idea where they’re going. I had to pull over and set up my GPS to give me directions to the nearest dump. After five minutes of searching, I finally found a legitimate looking one and headed on my way again.
I was looking forward to living on my own from then on. All the freedom I would now have and I wouldn’t have to go to anymore stuffy parties my parents were invited to. I would no longer be associated with the snobs, I wouldn’t be daddy’s little girl or mummy’s baby anymore. I was allowed to be my own person and no one could stop me, except for those nagging voices of my parents in my head. I turned on the radio in an attempt to drown them out. I didn’t need them anymore.
I pulled into the dump and drove onto the platform where the contents of my car were weighed. I was allowed through. The dump looked very different to what I thought. I imagined it to be huge piles of discarded items out in the open. Instead it was an enclosed building with wide slots labelled and located in the middle of the room. It was fascinating. I reversed my car into a spot next to a batted sedan. The car might as well have been dumped here too.
A young man with floppy brown hair climbed out of the car with a few canvases in his arms. They were covered with a variety of substances ranging from paint to shampoo. He was a curious looking guy. He was unshaven and had dark bags under his eyes but despite all this, something attracted me to him. It could have been his intriguing and troubled hazel eyes . He was different to anyone I had normally associated with, considering the fact I used to live in a sheltered environment. I felt an undying urge to start a conversation with him and I had a feeling he was going to help me change my life.
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Ooooooohhhhh, who's the mystery fellow?You can probably guess.
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