Dark dark eyes outlined by silver, golden sun-kissed skin and glossy raven tresses; features worthy of a model. Then came an unmerciful rrriiiiiipp. And another. And another, and another, until all that was left was a scattering of paper shreds, all over the floor.
"What was that?"
She glanced up in the direction of the disembodied voice. "What was what?"
The owner of said disembodied voice flopped into a large green beanbag in the corner of the room. "The sound of tearing paper."
She shrugged a shoulder. "Ah, nothing much." She turned back to her desk, socked feet tapping the ground. "No big deal." She tapped on the screen before her.
"What's with the pose?" She spun around to face her friend, planting her feet firmly in the white carpet to stop the chair from spinning further.
"Huh?"
"Sera, since when did you do modelling?"
"What are you on about, El?" she asked, spinning back to her assignment.
There was a soft rustle as El got up and picked up the pieces. "I'm kidding."
"Obviously," Sera muttered under her breath.
"This is really nice, though," El piped up again, and Sera turned to see her matching the pieces up like it was some sort of jigsaw puzzle.
"Whatever."
A hint of laughter laced El's voice. "What was it again? You're fearfully and wonderfully made or something?"
Sera grinned at that, turning to make a face at her friend. "Oh, yeah, don't you worry, I know I am."
El raised her eyebrows. "That's what I call confidence."
Sera laughed. "Oh, yeah." She pointed at the messily-assembled picture on the floor. "But that's not me." El's face was blank. "I mean, it's not me." She shrugged. "You know what I mean." El eyed her carefully.
"I don't have to call the asylum again, do I?" She sighed, sounding weary.
Sera shrugged a shoulder, chair twirling around slowly. "You never know," she answered, in a sing-song voice.
El stood, kicking the scraps of paper apart carelessly. "Well, that's not good." She grinned, shoving her hands in the pockets of her imitation-leather jacket. "I'd better go. I don't want your mum worrying and fretting over my failure to take care of my diabetes if I stay for dinner." Sera grinned. "See you."
"See you. Have fun eating your oh-so-nutritious junk food!" she added, voice carrying loudly down the hall. She heard a mutter of a response and fading footsteps before she got up, toeing one of the paper shreds.
Fearfully and wonderfully made, indeed.
She pursed her lips.
Not that it was relevant when it came to portraiture.
She sighed heavily, leaning over to tap on the screen again, grimacing. It's fine, she thought with a roll of the eyes, it's only due in three days. It's fine. It's fine. Totally, utterly completely fine.
She left the room, slamming the door behind her.
YOU ARE READING
Spontanéité
Short StoryA collection of some bits and pieces of my written works. These bits and pieces weren't all spontaneous pieces of writing, though. They're descriptions of people, places and memories, and maybe they're short stories or other things. I don't know, it...
