(no subject)
Who: Abby. Open.
What: Best wake up call ever
When: Day 42, morning
Where: Boarding house
For the second time in as many days, the TV had popped up in her room, unannounced, unexpected and only slightly less startling. Abby had groaned, her sleep hardly at its best since she had arrived in Peaksville and these early morning wake up calls weren’t helping.
And in her distaste, she had hurled her journal in the general direction of the offending object, with little more than a thought for the action.
Literally.
She had turned over and pulled the covers over her head, had even managed to begin to drift off again, only to sit bolt upright, staring wide-eyed at the journal on the floor where the TV had stood only a few moments prior. The journal that had been nowhere near the bed. Her brow knit as she studied the sturdy book, and she wondered if she had lost it already or if the journal had really moved.
It had moved, and was doing so again, lifting maybe a good three inches off the floor as she stared in disbelief. She closed her eyes. Counted to three. Opened them again. The book was on the floor.
Curiosity getting the best of her, she crept off the bed and slowly moved towards the book, bending to pick it up, turning it in her hands, inspecting it. Wilson had told her some of the strange things that had happened here and levitating journals didn’t seem to rank so high on the list. It was rather innocuous, really, on level with your standard parlor trick. Not much of an impressive one, at that.
She smirked, replacing the book on the desk, all the while thinking that it would have been much better had the bed done the levitation bit.
Picturing the scene in her head, she was still smirking right up until she turned and found the bed hovering near the ceiling.
She closed her eyes again, cracking one open to peek at the bed, swaying gently on nothing. Then on a hunch, she pictured it moving: back and forth, right and left. When it did just so, she grinned. How cool was this? She bounced in place, reminiscent of a kid waiting to open presents on Christmas morning, dressed in nothing but a mans button down and briefs, hands clasped in surprised glee under her chin. She tried focusing on putting the bed back on the floor but the excitement had made concentration difficult and it landed with a resounding crash and a telltale cracking sound.
Okay, so she would have to learn to stick the landings, but she could definitely get used to this.
She darted to the door, intent on grabbing the first person she met, whoever it may be. Someone was going to see this.
What: Best wake up call ever
When: Day 42, morning
Where: Boarding house
For the second time in as many days, the TV had popped up in her room, unannounced, unexpected and only slightly less startling. Abby had groaned, her sleep hardly at its best since she had arrived in Peaksville and these early morning wake up calls weren’t helping.
And in her distaste, she had hurled her journal in the general direction of the offending object, with little more than a thought for the action.
Literally.
She had turned over and pulled the covers over her head, had even managed to begin to drift off again, only to sit bolt upright, staring wide-eyed at the journal on the floor where the TV had stood only a few moments prior. The journal that had been nowhere near the bed. Her brow knit as she studied the sturdy book, and she wondered if she had lost it already or if the journal had really moved.
It had moved, and was doing so again, lifting maybe a good three inches off the floor as she stared in disbelief. She closed her eyes. Counted to three. Opened them again. The book was on the floor.
Curiosity getting the best of her, she crept off the bed and slowly moved towards the book, bending to pick it up, turning it in her hands, inspecting it. Wilson had told her some of the strange things that had happened here and levitating journals didn’t seem to rank so high on the list. It was rather innocuous, really, on level with your standard parlor trick. Not much of an impressive one, at that.
She smirked, replacing the book on the desk, all the while thinking that it would have been much better had the bed done the levitation bit.
Picturing the scene in her head, she was still smirking right up until she turned and found the bed hovering near the ceiling.
She closed her eyes again, cracking one open to peek at the bed, swaying gently on nothing. Then on a hunch, she pictured it moving: back and forth, right and left. When it did just so, she grinned. How cool was this? She bounced in place, reminiscent of a kid waiting to open presents on Christmas morning, dressed in nothing but a mans button down and briefs, hands clasped in surprised glee under her chin. She tried focusing on putting the bed back on the floor but the excitement had made concentration difficult and it landed with a resounding crash and a telltale cracking sound.
Okay, so she would have to learn to stick the landings, but she could definitely get used to this.
She darted to the door, intent on grabbing the first person she met, whoever it may be. Someone was going to see this.