Dusk Til Dusk And Back Again
Chapter One- Dog Named After Dead Author and Magaz
I must have fallen asleep because the next thing I knew…
“MUM, WHERE THE HELL ARE MY FREAKING SHOES!?” came a banshee scream from somewhere in the house below me.
“Don’t you use language that young lady!” yelled back the reply from my mother. “Your shoes are under the coffee table where you left them yesterday.”
“Jo! Get up or we’re going to be late! I said we’d meet Susie at Starbucks at 12” my shoeless sister called to me from the bottom of the staircase leading to my attic.
No! Not morning yet! More sleep need. At Sentence making failing. Opening Eyes not. Like Yoda I am.
As if she knew her cue as the official wakerer my dog Bronté came running out on the veranda. I named her Bronté after Charlotte Bronté. My sister wanted to call her Dolce after D&G. I won because I played the ‘I’m going to be the one looking after her’ card.
Okay I’m awake now.
Note to self: Sleeping on bench outside with head at a weird angle is a really really bad idea. I can barely turn it.
I stumbled into my room and clumsily tripped down the stairs to the kitchen. Where I found my older sister Kate in an argument with my mother over borrowing my dad’s old Mustang for the day. Her odds were not good. Dad adores that car; if man and car could marry they would be already driving away with the ‘Just Married’ sign on the back. I poured myself a bowl of Crunchy Nut and a cup of coffee and sat down at the breakfast bar to watch the show. It was like watching a tennis match, and I was the silent commentator.
“I just want to take it to the mall! I’ll have it back by 5!”
Translation: 7pm
“Why don’t you take the Corolla?”
You mean the one that breaks down if you go over 80km/h?
“I hate that car! I want to take the Mustang. I’ll be careful with it I swear.”
Pah!
“You remember what happened last time you borrowed it?”
I remember, I was in the front seat!
“There was nothing wrong with it!”
I feared for my life.
“Katherine, you hit a telephone pole!”
Ha ha busted.
“It was just a tiny scratch! I paid to have to fixed.”
Yea two months later.
“Okay but you are to have it back no later then 4, agreed?”
What!
“Whatever.”
No! Over already! *sigh*
I looked up at the clock on the high-tech microwave.
“I’m going to take Bronté for a run around the block.” I said getting up and finishing off the milk left at the bottom of my cereal bowl and downing the rest of the coffee.
“You can’t go now! We have to be there for 12!”
“It’s only 10:30, I’ll be back in time.”
“Yea well if you’re not I am leaving without you.”
“My aren’t we accommodating today.”
“Just be here.” She said rolling her eyes and going up stairs.
“Josephine Elizabeth Wake!” shrieked my mum from the adjoining room.
Ooo I got the full name. Score!
I wandered cautiously into the room and stopped at the doorway when I saw what she was yelling about.
“Why is the dining room table covered in chopped up magazines?”
Oops I forgot about those.
“I was experimenting with my inner creative side. I was setting free my internal struggle and artistic oppression!” I said melodramatically
She rolled her eyes at me “Just clean up next time. And stay away from my Home and Gardens.”
“I’ll try.” I said with a sigh. “But really mum, you can’t expect me to control what my muse wishes to release from its superficial form.”
“I thought you were leaving.” she said with a tone that said she was sick of dealing with her drama queen of a daughter.
“Oh yea. I’ll take Bronte out later, I just want to run by myself first.”
“MUM, WHERE THE HELL ARE MY FREAKING SHOES!?” came a banshee scream from somewhere in the house below me.
“Don’t you use language that young lady!” yelled back the reply from my mother. “Your shoes are under the coffee table where you left them yesterday.”
“Jo! Get up or we’re going to be late! I said we’d meet Susie at Starbucks at 12” my shoeless sister called to me from the bottom of the staircase leading to my attic.
No! Not morning yet! More sleep need. At Sentence making failing. Opening Eyes not. Like Yoda I am.
As if she knew her cue as the official wakerer my dog Bronté came running out on the veranda. I named her Bronté after Charlotte Bronté. My sister wanted to call her Dolce after D&G. I won because I played the ‘I’m going to be the one looking after her’ card.
Okay I’m awake now.
Note to self: Sleeping on bench outside with head at a weird angle is a really really bad idea. I can barely turn it.
I stumbled into my room and clumsily tripped down the stairs to the kitchen. Where I found my older sister Kate in an argument with my mother over borrowing my dad’s old Mustang for the day. Her odds were not good. Dad adores that car; if man and car could marry they would be already driving away with the ‘Just Married’ sign on the back. I poured myself a bowl of Crunchy Nut and a cup of coffee and sat down at the breakfast bar to watch the show. It was like watching a tennis match, and I was the silent commentator.
“I just want to take it to the mall! I’ll have it back by 5!”
Translation: 7pm
“Why don’t you take the Corolla?”
You mean the one that breaks down if you go over 80km/h?
“I hate that car! I want to take the Mustang. I’ll be careful with it I swear.”
Pah!
“You remember what happened last time you borrowed it?”
I remember, I was in the front seat!
“There was nothing wrong with it!”
I feared for my life.
“Katherine, you hit a telephone pole!”
Ha ha busted.
“It was just a tiny scratch! I paid to have to fixed.”
Yea two months later.
“Okay but you are to have it back no later then 4, agreed?”
What!
“Whatever.”
No! Over already! *sigh*
I looked up at the clock on the high-tech microwave.
“I’m going to take Bronté for a run around the block.” I said getting up and finishing off the milk left at the bottom of my cereal bowl and downing the rest of the coffee.
“You can’t go now! We have to be there for 12!”
“It’s only 10:30, I’ll be back in time.”
“Yea well if you’re not I am leaving without you.”
“My aren’t we accommodating today.”
“Just be here.” She said rolling her eyes and going up stairs.
“Josephine Elizabeth Wake!” shrieked my mum from the adjoining room.
Ooo I got the full name. Score!
I wandered cautiously into the room and stopped at the doorway when I saw what she was yelling about.
“Why is the dining room table covered in chopped up magazines?”
Oops I forgot about those.
“I was experimenting with my inner creative side. I was setting free my internal struggle and artistic oppression!” I said melodramatically
She rolled her eyes at me “Just clean up next time. And stay away from my Home and Gardens.”
“I’ll try.” I said with a sigh. “But really mum, you can’t expect me to control what my muse wishes to release from its superficial form.”
“I thought you were leaving.” she said with a tone that said she was sick of dealing with her drama queen of a daughter.
“Oh yea. I’ll take Bronte out later, I just want to run by myself first.”