Miss M: An Ordinary Day.
My dear Miss M has written another fic. A one-shot about Donna, and (although I say so myself), it's delightful! Gently beta'd by yours truly. :)
Author: Miss M (age 11)
Summary: A day in the life of Donna Temple-Noble.
Characters: Donna, Shaun.
Spoilers: Only up to 'End of Time'.
Rating: U
Word count: A little over 1000 words.
An Ordinary Day
The sun came flowing in through the double glazed windows of the main bedroom, greeted by the loud ring of a black novelty alarm clock.
An arm shot out from under the covers, groping around in search of the source of the disturbance, slapping it hard to silence it.
Donna groaned.
Shaun was gone already; his job was a demanding one and he never wanted to be late, or take a lazy day and ring in sick.
But then he was boss, and, as he had said, the guys at work needed him. He had set up a firm designing and manufacturing toys, and was always very busy.
The duvet shifted an inch as the arm made its way around the alarm clock towards the coffee maker, pressed a button, and slunk back on hearing a steady whir of machinery.
“OOOW!”
Once again, Donna had forgotten the wooden pole above the bed, and whacked her head against it, hard, as she got up.
Oh well. Just like any other day.
On jumping out of bed, Donna heard the heating turn on and the usual quiet voice greeting her.
“Hello Donna Temple-Noble. This is House. I hope you are happy and that you had a good sleep.”
Yes, she had a talking house.
Well, of sorts.
It was really one huge computer wired into the house. All you had to do was talk to it and it could do nearly anything, from closing the curtains to turning on the oven.
Donna saw no need for a clever house, but Shaun liked it, especially as it could make him a cup of tea in the morning, and tip him out of bed if he was being lazy.
Also, there was no need for a key, as all you had to do was place your hand on a scanner that knew their prints.
As Donna sipped her coffee, the bath began to fill itself with steaming water, just as she liked it.
After the usual morning routine, slipping into the bath was more relaxing than anything else in the world to Donna.
This was the life.
And yet, if that lottery ticket hadn’t been given to her, everything would be so different.
She dwelled upon that as she lay in the steaming water, as always asking herself questions, like:
Who was the ticket from?
and
Why would they give her it?
but mostly
HOW on the earth had they known that the ticket would win a triple rollover?
So far she hadn’t been able to answer any of those questions. And as for the last one she was somehow certain that it wasn’t just luck.
After her soak she pulled on some of her nice new clothes and went out to get some milk and such things.
In town she was stopped by someone who recognised her, and Donna braced herself for the usual flow of questions that would come.
The man in front of her began to talk.
“Aren’t you that rich lady? The one who was in the papers? And is it true that you have a talking house? Can’t see the point in one myself. Now I-”
By that point Donna usually would have been fuming at their rudeness, but all of a sudden, she saw someone who made her head turn.
He was long and gangling, with a lock of floppy hair covering his face and was handsome in an old fashioned way. Donna concentrated on his clothes.
A bow tie? Elbow patches?
He looked very young, and, somehow, ancient.
All of a sudden she felt like hugging him - it was almost as if he was an old friend she knew a long time ago, and could never quite remember properly.
His eyes passed over her and he grinned widely.
Then he was gone.
***
Somehow, the small amount of groceries she had gone out to buy had grown into half the shopping centre. Donna struggled into the car with her bags and drove home, the unknown man lingering in her mind.
During lunch she told Shaun of the stranger. He assured her that her peculiar feeling was probably brought on because he reminded her of someone she used to know.
After Shaun had gone back to work, Donna began to read a book. It was called ‘A Journal of Impossible Things’. She was enjoying it, but after reading a bit about a visitor from the stars, a huge migraine came along.
Donna needed a rest after that.
She woke up fine. The book lay on the edge of the bed, tempting her, but Donna walked right past it, giving the cover a flick with her dressing gown cord.
There was something wrong about that book.
Before leaving the room, she stared at it, transfixed, but then shook her head determinedly.
“No. No way.”
A faint clicking noise filled the house a little later as Donna began to write another chapter of her autobiography.
Her publishers were waiting expectantly for the finished book. In fact, she was nearly done. But Donna was having a slight problem writing about the gap where her life seemed to have stopped for a while.
After a few hours of tapping impatiently on the typewriter, scribbling and trying to pry out some memories, she gave up in disgust.
What should she make for tea?
Ratatouille, maybe?
Yes, that sounded like a good idea.
Pulling out drawers, Donna began to search furiously for some ingredients.
Her attempt at the ratatouille failed miserably, and ended up in the grassy back yard, dish and all, having been tossed out by an irritable Donna.
She began again, something easier this time.
“What is that beautiful smell?”
Shaun wandered in and inspected the pots and pans bubbling in the stove.
“Spag bol? I trust that your special dinner went wrong, then?”
Donna was about to give a furious reply, when the house began to talk.
“Ah. Welcome back Mr Temple-Noble. May I-”
Donna rolled her eyes.
“OH, SHUT UP!”
The house fell silent.
They had a most enjoyable dinner of savoury bolognese and a chocolate dessert.
As they walked into the bedroom, Donna’s gaze turned to the book lying on the very edge of the bed.
The book was open on a page depicting a moody figure. An alien, apparently.
He didn’t look alien.
Donna slammed the book shut, knocking it to the floor, much to the surprise of Shaun.
Indeed, he was so surprised he jumped about a foot into the air and slopped water down himself.
Donna gave him a hug, watching out for the bedtime water he was now wearing.
“I love you, Shaun.”
The bed was very comfortable, and getting to sleep wasn’t an issue.
As Donna rested her head on the pillow, she saw the face of the tall gangling man, smiled, and slept.
The End
Author: Miss M (age 11)
Summary: A day in the life of Donna Temple-Noble.
Characters: Donna, Shaun.
Spoilers: Only up to 'End of Time'.
Rating: U
Word count: A little over 1000 words.
An Ordinary Day
The sun came flowing in through the double glazed windows of the main bedroom, greeted by the loud ring of a black novelty alarm clock.
An arm shot out from under the covers, groping around in search of the source of the disturbance, slapping it hard to silence it.
Donna groaned.
Shaun was gone already; his job was a demanding one and he never wanted to be late, or take a lazy day and ring in sick.
But then he was boss, and, as he had said, the guys at work needed him. He had set up a firm designing and manufacturing toys, and was always very busy.
The duvet shifted an inch as the arm made its way around the alarm clock towards the coffee maker, pressed a button, and slunk back on hearing a steady whir of machinery.
“OOOW!”
Once again, Donna had forgotten the wooden pole above the bed, and whacked her head against it, hard, as she got up.
Oh well. Just like any other day.
On jumping out of bed, Donna heard the heating turn on and the usual quiet voice greeting her.
“Hello Donna Temple-Noble. This is House. I hope you are happy and that you had a good sleep.”
Yes, she had a talking house.
Well, of sorts.
It was really one huge computer wired into the house. All you had to do was talk to it and it could do nearly anything, from closing the curtains to turning on the oven.
Donna saw no need for a clever house, but Shaun liked it, especially as it could make him a cup of tea in the morning, and tip him out of bed if he was being lazy.
Also, there was no need for a key, as all you had to do was place your hand on a scanner that knew their prints.
As Donna sipped her coffee, the bath began to fill itself with steaming water, just as she liked it.
After the usual morning routine, slipping into the bath was more relaxing than anything else in the world to Donna.
This was the life.
And yet, if that lottery ticket hadn’t been given to her, everything would be so different.
She dwelled upon that as she lay in the steaming water, as always asking herself questions, like:
Who was the ticket from?
and
Why would they give her it?
but mostly
HOW on the earth had they known that the ticket would win a triple rollover?
So far she hadn’t been able to answer any of those questions. And as for the last one she was somehow certain that it wasn’t just luck.
After her soak she pulled on some of her nice new clothes and went out to get some milk and such things.
In town she was stopped by someone who recognised her, and Donna braced herself for the usual flow of questions that would come.
The man in front of her began to talk.
“Aren’t you that rich lady? The one who was in the papers? And is it true that you have a talking house? Can’t see the point in one myself. Now I-”
By that point Donna usually would have been fuming at their rudeness, but all of a sudden, she saw someone who made her head turn.
He was long and gangling, with a lock of floppy hair covering his face and was handsome in an old fashioned way. Donna concentrated on his clothes.
A bow tie? Elbow patches?
He looked very young, and, somehow, ancient.
All of a sudden she felt like hugging him - it was almost as if he was an old friend she knew a long time ago, and could never quite remember properly.
His eyes passed over her and he grinned widely.
Then he was gone.
***
Somehow, the small amount of groceries she had gone out to buy had grown into half the shopping centre. Donna struggled into the car with her bags and drove home, the unknown man lingering in her mind.
During lunch she told Shaun of the stranger. He assured her that her peculiar feeling was probably brought on because he reminded her of someone she used to know.
After Shaun had gone back to work, Donna began to read a book. It was called ‘A Journal of Impossible Things’. She was enjoying it, but after reading a bit about a visitor from the stars, a huge migraine came along.
Donna needed a rest after that.
She woke up fine. The book lay on the edge of the bed, tempting her, but Donna walked right past it, giving the cover a flick with her dressing gown cord.
There was something wrong about that book.
Before leaving the room, she stared at it, transfixed, but then shook her head determinedly.
“No. No way.”
A faint clicking noise filled the house a little later as Donna began to write another chapter of her autobiography.
Her publishers were waiting expectantly for the finished book. In fact, she was nearly done. But Donna was having a slight problem writing about the gap where her life seemed to have stopped for a while.
After a few hours of tapping impatiently on the typewriter, scribbling and trying to pry out some memories, she gave up in disgust.
What should she make for tea?
Ratatouille, maybe?
Yes, that sounded like a good idea.
Pulling out drawers, Donna began to search furiously for some ingredients.
Her attempt at the ratatouille failed miserably, and ended up in the grassy back yard, dish and all, having been tossed out by an irritable Donna.
She began again, something easier this time.
“What is that beautiful smell?”
Shaun wandered in and inspected the pots and pans bubbling in the stove.
“Spag bol? I trust that your special dinner went wrong, then?”
Donna was about to give a furious reply, when the house began to talk.
“Ah. Welcome back Mr Temple-Noble. May I-”
Donna rolled her eyes.
“OH, SHUT UP!”
The house fell silent.
They had a most enjoyable dinner of savoury bolognese and a chocolate dessert.
As they walked into the bedroom, Donna’s gaze turned to the book lying on the very edge of the bed.
The book was open on a page depicting a moody figure. An alien, apparently.
He didn’t look alien.
Donna slammed the book shut, knocking it to the floor, much to the surprise of Shaun.
Indeed, he was so surprised he jumped about a foot into the air and slopped water down himself.
Donna gave him a hug, watching out for the bedtime water he was now wearing.
“I love you, Shaun.”
The bed was very comfortable, and getting to sleep wasn’t an issue.
As Donna rested her head on the pillow, she saw the face of the tall gangling man, smiled, and slept.
The End