Get out of my garden...
It's been three weeks since Sheila's little misadventure with that bottle of tequila, and for the most part she's recovered her dignity. Everything else around her has fallen apart - the job search has led nowhere, she's nearly run out of the money Ash has loaned her, and her attempt at using a modern washing machine has turned the blue shirt Ash loaned her bright white.
The silver lining in it all lies in her improved understanding of modern English - where once she had mild written proficency, she can now comprehend at the level of a fifth grader, and read at the level of fourth grader. It's the fruit of a month of self-fuled determination, with little reward in trade for the effort.
She smiles, however, as she slips her copy of "Little House on the Prarie" into the pocket of her oversized shirt and rises, a mug of tea in her right hand. The formal garden is deserted, and aglow with autumnal-blooming flowers and leaf-shedding trees, and it seems as good a time as any to explore them.
((OOC: ETA: All threads take place after the Ash/Sheila thread))
The silver lining in it all lies in her improved understanding of modern English - where once she had mild written proficency, she can now comprehend at the level of a fifth grader, and read at the level of fourth grader. It's the fruit of a month of self-fuled determination, with little reward in trade for the effort.
She smiles, however, as she slips her copy of "Little House on the Prarie" into the pocket of her oversized shirt and rises, a mug of tea in her right hand. The formal garden is deserted, and aglow with autumnal-blooming flowers and leaf-shedding trees, and it seems as good a time as any to explore them.
((OOC: ETA: All threads take place after the Ash/Sheila thread))