Have you ever imagined that one day the voices inside your head were fighting, your imaginary friend was running with a scissor in its hand, and at one point one of your personalities wandered off for the reason that somehow you had just proposed to...
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On this fine day, quiet times were idled away, as music hailed from my phone's playlist, thus far just as it is, the background ambiance was improved, as if this music was that freshly baked black and pink macaroons that were neatly amassed upon a white tablecloth, the tune was the clement hum that danced in the same way a fragrance does. The high notes were the sirens, the horns and its boosting beats. I guess to someone unaccustomed it could be less than therapeutic, but I was a city girl, and these were the music that the old Jennie must have idolized.
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I was almost done with my finishing touches for today's chic grace when I heard thundering footsteps near the room; it must have been Lisa wondering if I was ready by this time. I bit my lip and slipped a lock of khaki hair behind my ear, and forthwith smoothed my tucked white long-sleeves.
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