Words Upon Words

Yearning For Adventure (Doctor Who)

DOCTOR WHO:

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A/N: Well hello everyone! This is something I've considered doing for quite a while.

This is basically where I will compile all the one shots I've written for various fandoms.

I will try to keep all the various stories organized by fandoms and will right which one(s) each story is included in.

I hope you all enjoy reading these as much as I enjoy writing them!

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She laid down, sprawled on the couch in a manner that exuded laze and bore. She mindlessly flicked through the 8 telly channels she had and to no surprise found nothing of interest. The house was quiet with no one around, almost too quiet for her taste. Even the mechanical whir of a dishwasher or washing machine did not buzz in the stale air.

She drank tea from the same old mug as always and ate a bag of crisps because she felt in too lethargic of a mood to cook anything.

She had nothing to do, she was bored out of her mind, life seemingly held no interest for her other than as one enormous "blah". She finally just lay there; listening to the silence that permeated the house. She fell asleep and upon waking found that nothing had changed but the lighting outside had gone from midday to evening.

She sighed, could anything less happen to her? Did any sort of excitement in life have a magnetic opposition to her, just rebounding off of some invisible boundary surrounding just her? She didn't know but it certainly seemed that way. Her life was passing by her in the precise same monotonous manner; and yet she could not help but yearn for something more. She wanted adventure, excitement, action, quandary, or simply anything above boredom to be frank. But alas, no such luck.

To her it seemed that other people did the "important things" and everything else was left to people like her: the meaningless masses, those of whom nothing was particularly notable or special. She was the person who lived life and at the funeral everyone would be trying to think of something good to say but came up short or even worse, with simply a "she was nice."

She didn't want to be summed up in three mediocre words, she wanted people to have things to say about her, even if they weren't all good. She wanted to be the type of person that had done so much that it couldn't be summed up in a eulogy or obituary. She didn't necessarily want to be important to everyone, but just to be more than a fading blur, which seemed to be what she was currently fast-tracking towards.

But all she seemed capable of was reading books, watching copious amounts of mind-sucking crap telly shows, making tea, and being able to use the Pythagorean theorem to find the side of a triangle (that so far she'd never actually had to use outside of high school math class).

Nothing special, nothing important, nothing noteworthy, that was her. Or so she had assumed and been told.

Then she heard a sort of wheezing and whirring noise, maybe it was the dishwasher acting up but no, it couldn't be that for it was coming from outside. She forced herself upwards and rushed to the window to see what could make that noise. Then she saw something out of her peripheral vision, and upon looking in that direction she gasped when she saw a blue box begin to materialise out of truly thin air. She blinked, that couldn't be real, and yet something deep within her seemed to bubble up with excitement like one does when they see a present but don't yet know what is inside.

She watched, entranced as a solid blue police box replaced what had once been simple air. Then to further her wide-eyed wonderment a man stepped out of the box a moment later.