Robin was thinking about Taylor Farley again. Sleepless, Robin gets out of her warm bed. Blankets sprawled out, clothes in piles on the floor, a desk with a computer, a blue yeti microphone, a candle that smells of lavender and spruce, a cactus robin lovingly named Carrie, and papers scattered all over the hardwood desk.
Posters littered the walls of her room with guitars and other musical instruments on their stands begging to be played. Robin walked over to the window, stepping over the mounds of clothes, standing at the window nearly falling in the process, sighing with relief when she caught her balance.
Robins' face reflected slightly transparent in the window's surface, revealing her chocolate brown skin with freckles randomly dotting her face, brown eyes that anyone can get lost in, and pouty lips that didn't have a single crease. Fog poured over the fallen trees, a slight drizzle giving the dirt a damp appearance, and the little frogs singing their little frog songs.
She had always loved Oregon, its quiet, cuddly cabins; it was a place that encouraged her tendency to fall asleep in cool areas.
She glanced at her own reflection, and her hair was flat on one side and frizzy on the other, still in her pajamas, some shorts, and a baggy nirvana shirt. "I look awful," she thought out loud. She grabbed her phone off the desk; she opened her phone.
messages:
Taylor: We are still making cookies at 12? Sent 8:00 PM
Robin: hell yea! Sent 8:03 PM
Robin glanced at the clock, 11:30 AM. In a panic, she quickly takes off to her bathroom, tripping over a mountain of clothes in the process.
