Old Clocks Run Off Acid Fluid and Batteries
Six
There wasn't an immediate response from the other side, but nonetheless, she still calls through the door. Not feeling an ounce of stupidity as her voice rings steadily through the apartment. Her hand, still gloved in a mitt, is resting idly on the doorknob, waiting for some sort of confirmation.
No answer.
Discouraged, Zooey stands on her toes so she was able to see through the abnormally highly placed peephole. Seeing nothing, or no one rather, at the door, she opens the door, with curiosity deeply the protagonist, but somewhere rather deep in her mind, maybe there indeed was a small inkling of fear.
Opening the door a small way, she holds on hand in a fist, as to defend herself if the time does indeed come. But she certainly hoped not, she has terrible hand-eye coordination.
Seeing a small package by the doorway just irked her curiosity even more. Disconcerted about her mixed feelings. It was a if it was an abut. It was perfectly positioned as if to warn the walker by to not step on it.
In her mind, she was continually repeating the same thing over and over. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!
Breaking every rule she ever made on unknown packages - once again! - she slowly picks it up as if it were a delicate material, one of the finest quality. Fit for a King..
Kicking the door closed with her foot, she doesn't bother locking it, but whereas she kicks some shoes in her way towards the door as if it was a good enough way to prevent any trespasser entrance into her house.
Gently sliding it off her fingers she lets it on the counter and takes a look at the box.
It seemed like any other. The words Fragile were printed boldly on the side of it, giving clear warning not to shake it like a much anticipated Christmas present.
The box had the general brown colour with the traditional tape crossed hazardously across the openings of the box. Random scribblings and numbers in small print adorned the smallish box, as if in some numerals only cryptologists could discern. But that was silly.
Once again retrieving a knife, Zooey set up to the task of revealing the box's contents.
No answer.
Discouraged, Zooey stands on her toes so she was able to see through the abnormally highly placed peephole. Seeing nothing, or no one rather, at the door, she opens the door, with curiosity deeply the protagonist, but somewhere rather deep in her mind, maybe there indeed was a small inkling of fear.
Opening the door a small way, she holds on hand in a fist, as to defend herself if the time does indeed come. But she certainly hoped not, she has terrible hand-eye coordination.
Seeing a small package by the doorway just irked her curiosity even more. Disconcerted about her mixed feelings. It was a if it was an abut. It was perfectly positioned as if to warn the walker by to not step on it.
In her mind, she was continually repeating the same thing over and over. No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!
Breaking every rule she ever made on unknown packages - once again! - she slowly picks it up as if it were a delicate material, one of the finest quality. Fit for a King..
Kicking the door closed with her foot, she doesn't bother locking it, but whereas she kicks some shoes in her way towards the door as if it was a good enough way to prevent any trespasser entrance into her house.
Gently sliding it off her fingers she lets it on the counter and takes a look at the box.
It seemed like any other. The words Fragile were printed boldly on the side of it, giving clear warning not to shake it like a much anticipated Christmas present.
The box had the general brown colour with the traditional tape crossed hazardously across the openings of the box. Random scribblings and numbers in small print adorned the smallish box, as if in some numerals only cryptologists could discern. But that was silly.
Once again retrieving a knife, Zooey set up to the task of revealing the box's contents.
♠ ♠ ♠
=]]Much better than a different update.
Or so I think.