Seven Days

Wednesday

She threw down her marker in disgust and buried her head in her hands.

This was the third book this month she had been asked to illustrate for. The author she was getting all these demands from had loved how her small, bright, colorful drawings lit up the pages and complimented her "musty, old-timey writing". She reached over again and flipped through the rough draft of the story - some kind of biography, obviously. There were little notes all over the pages - put in red alarm clock here, yellow pencil here - and while she could see the drawings so clearly in her minds eye, mind just wouldn't connect to hand, hand couldn't connect to marker, marker wasn't connecting to paper.

She massaged her temples and looked around her for a minute, if just to clear her mind.

Her apartment, which she had rented just a month ago, had already undergone major changes, and wasn't something most people would expect from an apartment.

She had painted the walls colorfully; the kitchen was pink, pink like peach blossoms or a sunrise - gentle, bright but natural at the same time, so not too hard on the eyes. Her bathroom was daffodil, cottonwood-leaves-in-the-fall yellow. Contrary to most people's beliefs, she thought that bathrooms should be warm and cleansing, not cold and steely, which was why she'd painted the bedroom sky blue instead. Most people criticized her choice of paint, saying it was gaudy, but frankly, she didn't give a rat's ass.

There was a strawberry soda in the fridge. She was trying to stay off sugar, but the calling was too strong, and at the moment she didn't give a rat's ass about that either. Marching over, she opened the door, pulled out the cold drink, and took a long sip, slamming the fridge door in the meantime.

The almost overly sweet taste flooded her tongue, rejuvinating her and bringing life back into her brain, if only slightly. She needed more, though.

She needed music.

Pandora was open, music was on. She drank the rest of her soda without guilt, dancing crazily all throughout her vibrantly colored rooms, singing along loudly to the lyrics. The music was inside her, letting it all out, all the frustration.

She was probably annoying the neighbors to no end.

But she didn't give a rat's ass.