Hello, hi, how's it going.
As an introduction to a blog, which years later will make me inevitably cringe, a long-winded spiel about myself sounds pretty boring for the wider blogging community to read. Hell, you don't even know who I am. But, seeing as I've made this blog in order to share my character descriptions of people who you'll never meet or don't exist, I will start in the fashion I intend to continue with. So, without further adieu: a relatively accurate description of me.
As an introduction to a blog, which years later will make me inevitably cringe, a long-winded spiel about myself sounds pretty boring for the wider blogging community to read. Hell, you don't even know who I am. But, seeing as I've made this blog in order to share my character descriptions of people who you'll never meet or don't exist, I will start in the fashion I intend to continue with. So, without further adieu: a relatively accurate description of me.
Imagine you've remained distant at the back of the bus, coming home from a nail-biting day at work. You're a nine-to-five sort, working hard for the family you love so dearly. All you want to do is get home to see the kids, ask your husband/wife how their day was and eat your favourite meal in front of the television. Your eyes twitch back and forth over the road as it falls away behind you; you're on the motorway. Traffic has crawled its way forward and finally the bus squeezes out of constraint. One more blink and you're into the suburbs. You daydream of the rush of warm air tickling your face when you step in the door, the kiss on your forehead and excited screams of your children. And then again, you sigh, as you're only half way home. Time isn't ticking in your favor.
A slight jolt pulls you forward as the bus decelerates suddenly, forcing you back into your seat. People are now curious, peering from behind their Kindles and novels to see who's stopped the bus. But no one's getting off. Strangely enough, no one's getting on either. Until you hear a voice.
A slight jolt pulls you forward as the bus decelerates suddenly, forcing you back into your seat. People are now curious, peering from behind their Kindles and novels to see who's stopped the bus. But no one's getting off. Strangely enough, no one's getting on either. Until you hear a voice.
"Oh lord, oh fuck, I'm so sorry. You think you could wait? I need to-"
You sit up slightly to see a girl kneeling down on the footpath. She snatches halfheartedly at a scrap of paper, which escapes her grasp and flies under the wheels of the bus. She curses again, allowing her dark fringe to fall in her eyes as she attempts to salvage the rest. A shocking folder lies open on the curb - she's dropped it, the clumsy girl. She finally gathers her things - the folder stuffed with notes, two pairs of boots (one for football) and a tattered schoolbag. The whole bus is staring. You've been waiting for a while now. A couple of voices from the front mutter in disgust and an old woman shuffles uncomfortably in her seat. The girl is doing them no favors.
She realizes this and is mortified. A crop of golden brown hair falls over her shoulders as she walks up aisle and throws her load in an empty seat. Her face is pink and embarrassed, so she hides under her mane.
She realizes this and is mortified. A crop of golden brown hair falls over her shoulders as she walks up aisle and throws her load in an empty seat. Her face is pink and embarrassed, so she hides under her mane.
"I'm really really sorry, um, it's two fifty, am I right?"
She grabs her coin purse and runs back down, throwing some coins at the driver and returns. A few schoolboys at the back snort fiendishly. She's having a bad day. You hear the exasperated exhale as she slumps into the bus seat and begins sorting her mess. The bus finally pulls away from the footpath and continues home.
It's a pity you had to meet her this way. She's usually much better presented.
~ Holly
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