A few people mentioned that it might be an idea to continue on with this story: Brushing her hair... so I wrote some more. I'm not sure of it though; any tips, ideas, or thoughts? This one is called, Throwing Him Out.
But things are changing with her; perhaps she is developing a sense of right and wrong; a moral conscience, so to speak. And so, this time, she throws him out of her bed, after showing him all the joys of her apartment; beginning and ending in her bedroom after a calorie filled takeaway meal on her balcony, laughing as they dropped food over the edge onto the road.
This is something I wrote earlier tonight. It's not personal, based on me, or anything like that, but I like the way it turned out. If there are any spelling/grammar/punctuation mistakes, can you tell me?
Any comments are appreciated. I'd give my story about a PG-15 rating. Not sure if that's important or anything - I know it is in some places. Please read, and enjoy!
OK, so I have a crush. I had the crush resurface after approximately 6 months of non crushing (I'm not kidding - I didn't think about her in any other way apart from friendship!).
But no, I am re-crushing on her. And I think she knows it. We were messing around today - we were pretending to rip our hearts out and present them to each other. It was hilarious.
Then I made a theory - that every body has definate platonic friends, who they'd never dream of dating, and then non platonic friends - you don't really have a crush on them, but if they asked you, then you probably could do. Or that you have a minor crush. Like I do.
Congratulations for Chris Smith for having the courage to announce this:
I'm HIV positive says Chris Smith
· Ex-Cabinet Minister diagnosed in 1987
· Mandela prompted him to speak out
Former Labour cabinet minister Chris Smith has been HIV positive for 17 years, but did not tell Tony Blair when he was appointed Culture Secretary in 1997.
Smith, 53, the first openly gay cabinet member in British history, said he was inspired to go public after comments by the former South African president, Nelson Mandela, about his son, who died of Aids this month.
He said he had not felt it necessary to inform the Prime Minister of the infection because it did not affect his ability to do his job.
Thursday, 16th December
Cold and cloudy?!?! That’s a bad combination. It makes me positively loathe the snowy season. Everyone is blindly happy, smiling and being cheery, la la la. But not me! Oh no, not me what so ever! I may have my tree up, presents bought and cards ready for delivery, but on this particularly chilly morning, I am not a happy bunny!
As I trudge towards the old school building, hating everything from the builders machinery (which is making a horrible whining noise) to my school bag, I spy the different patterned snowflakes hanging from the lower school windows. Why they look positively cute - if you’re a five year old! I giggle to myself. Though, I admit, the tinsel and Christmas trees around the school give the place a homely feel. Upon seeing a memento of Christmas, teachers, invariably, get bored of teaching, or feel guilty about setting home work on the last week of term. Suddenly, they declare, you’re watching a video, or playing Biology hang man on the electronic Smart boards. Decorations really aren’t a bad idea, actually, I think, stopping to shift bags from one hand to another. It’s very hard, carrying three bags. I nearly drop one, causing cards to fall out. I suddenly feel like throwing things against a wall - though I’m only violent in my imagination.
It was February, and we were all in bed in the Austrian house. Our teacher had already checked on all the girls, and the room was in semi darkness. Exhausted after 6 hours of skiing and swimming, and an hour of ‘fun and games’, most of us were sleeping. Apart from two. Me and her.
We shared a bunk, you see. Best friends, but with some unease between us. We’d taken to fighting - ‘wir kämpfen oft’, as the Austrians say. But, as I lay there, I could hear sniffing, and I knew something was wrong.