Status: something to help the writer's block
The Irony is That This Cell Phone Has Gone Through Dante's Inferno and Back and Still Looks Better Than You
In Which You Don't Need To Be Able To Stand To Win At Wii Bowling
A year and a half. That’s how long it took.
A year for her leg to heal, another sixth months of intensive physical therapy before she could walk with only the barest hint of a limp.
The day Natalia was given the okay to go outside and run, play, do everything a nine-year old should be doing she stayed inside.
It was a habit she’d gotten used to, staying inside and out of the way while everyone else went on with their lives. Her parents didn’t know how to deal with a stir-crazy kid.
She learned to love the solitude. It was a lesson she shouldn’t have had to learn at such a young age.
Natalia was sitting in her room, scribbling nonsense stories into a notebook embossed with flowers when James burst in.
“Talia!” He admonished. She cringed. “Your mom told me that you got cleared today. Didn’t we make a deal?”
Two months into her self-imposed isolation, during a game of Wii bowling (that she was miraculously winning despite being confined to the couch in the living room), James had made her promise that the day she could walk again, she’d come over and they would play tag team hide and seek.
“I don’t feel like playing today,” she muttered, snapping her notebook shut and shoving it beneath her pillow.
“I don’t care if you don’t feel like playing today, sweetheart. You spent two birthdays stuck inside and we have a lot to make up for.” He latched onto her hand and pulled her out the door.
She didn’t protest.
A year for her leg to heal, another sixth months of intensive physical therapy before she could walk with only the barest hint of a limp.
The day Natalia was given the okay to go outside and run, play, do everything a nine-year old should be doing she stayed inside.
It was a habit she’d gotten used to, staying inside and out of the way while everyone else went on with their lives. Her parents didn’t know how to deal with a stir-crazy kid.
She learned to love the solitude. It was a lesson she shouldn’t have had to learn at such a young age.
Natalia was sitting in her room, scribbling nonsense stories into a notebook embossed with flowers when James burst in.
“Talia!” He admonished. She cringed. “Your mom told me that you got cleared today. Didn’t we make a deal?”
Two months into her self-imposed isolation, during a game of Wii bowling (that she was miraculously winning despite being confined to the couch in the living room), James had made her promise that the day she could walk again, she’d come over and they would play tag team hide and seek.
“I don’t feel like playing today,” she muttered, snapping her notebook shut and shoving it beneath her pillow.
“I don’t care if you don’t feel like playing today, sweetheart. You spent two birthdays stuck inside and we have a lot to make up for.” He latched onto her hand and pulled her out the door.
She didn’t protest.
♠ ♠ ♠
does anyone have any song recommendations? I like to listen to music when I write and I'm running out of new stuff. I think I've listened to the Arctic Monkeys entire discography like ten times and there I can only listen to 1D for so long