(no subject)
Keira wakes with a start at nothing. Her apartment is sunny and quiet and oh bugger, she's late. The display on the VCR shows 5:12pm and she's supposed to be at Johnny's by now. With a soft curse she puts the book she fell asleep reading on the coffee table and hoists herself off the couch, pawing at her bedhair as she hurriedly pads across the kitchen to her bedroom.
The situation is hopeless, the mirror of her commode confirms. She shimmies out of her sweatpants and tank top to throw on a teal-coloured bikini, shortshort cut-off jeans over it, and the only fresh tanktop left in her dresser, a ratty grey thing she can probably get away with. It's just Johnny's place anyway, right?
She locates her yellow flip-flops by the hamper and gives her hair a perfunctory brush before pulling in into a messy ponytail, the hair looped halfway through the hairtie so it's off the back of her neck. It's gotten uncomfortably hot today in her little apartment. A dunk in Johnny's pool and one of his icy cocktails will do just the trick.
She dumps notebooks and magazines out of her bookbag and tosses in sunscreen and a book of insect photographs she's been meaning to give to Dom. She manages to slip on her sunglasses while she's locking her door and by the time she's wrestled down the roof of her old Jetta ("1988! A great year!" Johnny would exclaim with a generous helping of sincerity), she's smiling.
She pops a Clash tape in and doesn't notice traffic.
The situation is hopeless, the mirror of her commode confirms. She shimmies out of her sweatpants and tank top to throw on a teal-coloured bikini, shortshort cut-off jeans over it, and the only fresh tanktop left in her dresser, a ratty grey thing she can probably get away with. It's just Johnny's place anyway, right?
She locates her yellow flip-flops by the hamper and gives her hair a perfunctory brush before pulling in into a messy ponytail, the hair looped halfway through the hairtie so it's off the back of her neck. It's gotten uncomfortably hot today in her little apartment. A dunk in Johnny's pool and one of his icy cocktails will do just the trick.
She dumps notebooks and magazines out of her bookbag and tosses in sunscreen and a book of insect photographs she's been meaning to give to Dom. She manages to slip on her sunglasses while she's locking her door and by the time she's wrestled down the roof of her old Jetta ("1988! A great year!" Johnny would exclaim with a generous helping of sincerity), she's smiling.
She pops a Clash tape in and doesn't notice traffic.