And nothing is rhyming
Who: Mandy, OT anyone
Where: Weatherly Park
When: Thursday
Mandy sat humming, sharpening a pile of sticks she collected. A second pile was beside her- sticks that weren't worthy.
She had a lot to do, and not much time. The wood had to be right, and nothing could be pure. Everything had to be tainted, like she was. Dirty, and tainted, and deadly, and the music had to stop.
She knew she should tell someone, but everyone seemed very busy. They were busy trying to stop it, and things were getting angrier, and Mother kept calling her.
Mandy hummed louder, trying to drown it all out. Ode To Joy.
It wasn't working.
Where: Weatherly Park
When: Thursday
Mandy sat humming, sharpening a pile of sticks she collected. A second pile was beside her- sticks that weren't worthy.
She had a lot to do, and not much time. The wood had to be right, and nothing could be pure. Everything had to be tainted, like she was. Dirty, and tainted, and deadly, and the music had to stop.
She knew she should tell someone, but everyone seemed very busy. They were busy trying to stop it, and things were getting angrier, and Mother kept calling her.
Mandy hummed louder, trying to drown it all out. Ode To Joy.
It wasn't working.