Room 411, Monday Afternoon
Viki had found seventeen presents in the course of the morning. They did not have labels on them, but she assumed that, in the absence of labels, that they were for her. (And, as most of them were found in her room, she thought that it was an assumption that was well and good enough to make.)
Opening the presents netted her quite a few new clips for her hair, and more crayons, erasers, and pens.
She contemplated her stash for a few moments before systematically pinning all of the clips into her hair, and pulling out one of the sketchbooks she had obtained from work. If they were going to give her things to draw with, then the very least she could do with them was, well, draw.
[Open door, open post!]
Opening the presents netted her quite a few new clips for her hair, and more crayons, erasers, and pens.
She contemplated her stash for a few moments before systematically pinning all of the clips into her hair, and pulling out one of the sketchbooks she had obtained from work. If they were going to give her things to draw with, then the very least she could do with them was, well, draw.
[Open door, open post!]