Post by randi; on Nov 26, 2006 14:23:33 GMT -5
The coffee shop was not all too crowded; there were several nice tables left vacant. However, the young woman preffered her seat over in the corner, alone. A paper lay in front of her, along with a muffin, both left untouched. Randi flipped her hands so the palms were facing up. Wrinkled, aged looking skin showed on her left hand, countered by young, taut skin on the other. She uttered a sigh, and opened the paper. She considered flipping through the Job Ads, knowing she couldn't rely on her mother or singing gigs any longer. A sign that said, Now Hiring! in red, cheery block letters hung obnoxiously on the window of the coffee shop. Randi cringed, placing it as somewhat of a last resort.
She set the paper down yet again, and opened her messenger bag, pulling out the mail she'd picked up on her way to breakfast. There was a card from her mother, which she opened immediately. Happy Birthday! it said in blue, swirly letters. There was a little puppy with a happy birthday hat on, which made Randi bite her lip, holding back both laughs and tears. Her mother knew how she thought those cards were rediculous, which was why every year she recieved one from Ms. Phillips. She hasn't forgotten, Randi whispered, looking up shocked to see if anyone had heard.
Carefully, she opened the card and read her mother's neat, nurse-like handwriting. Happy ninteenth, sweetheart. You're entering the last stage of your teens, and I could not be more proud of the woman you've become.
Whoa, step back a minute,[/b] she thought to herself. Me? Adult? Oh no. No no no no.
Sheesh. Reality checks should never be made at eight o' clock in the morning. [/size]
She set the paper down yet again, and opened her messenger bag, pulling out the mail she'd picked up on her way to breakfast. There was a card from her mother, which she opened immediately. Happy Birthday! it said in blue, swirly letters. There was a little puppy with a happy birthday hat on, which made Randi bite her lip, holding back both laughs and tears. Her mother knew how she thought those cards were rediculous, which was why every year she recieved one from Ms. Phillips. She hasn't forgotten, Randi whispered, looking up shocked to see if anyone had heard.
Carefully, she opened the card and read her mother's neat, nurse-like handwriting. Happy ninteenth, sweetheart. You're entering the last stage of your teens, and I could not be more proud of the woman you've become.
Whoa, step back a minute,[/b] she thought to herself. Me? Adult? Oh no. No no no no.
Sheesh. Reality checks should never be made at eight o' clock in the morning. [/size]