Strokes of Genius, Wednesday
No more cereal falling from the sky? Thank god. Katchoo'd had enough of that crap.
. . . yesterday being St. Patrick's Day, of course, she had one hell of a hangover today. Which she was pretending she didn't. She slouched behind the counter with her sketchbook, a baseball cap pulled down low over her eyes, and got lost in some bizarre series of sketches about pots of gold at the ends of rainbows that ended up being something more sinister.
Cheerful girl, that one.
Well. There were occasional sketches of French toast with maple syrup too.
And Griffin Silver on the stereo, as always, but turned down low today.
Played my songs for you all night
You never heard them sung quite right
In the middle of a thousand dreams
I saw you . . .
[OOC: OCD-free, open, Griffin Silver lyrics actually by Terry Moore from vol. 3, issue 53, etc. He's writing a new post-series SiP one-off, whee!]
. . . yesterday being St. Patrick's Day, of course, she had one hell of a hangover today. Which she was pretending she didn't. She slouched behind the counter with her sketchbook, a baseball cap pulled down low over her eyes, and got lost in some bizarre series of sketches about pots of gold at the ends of rainbows that ended up being something more sinister.
Cheerful girl, that one.
Well. There were occasional sketches of French toast with maple syrup too.
And Griffin Silver on the stereo, as always, but turned down low today.
Played my songs for you all night
You never heard them sung quite right
In the middle of a thousand dreams
I saw you . . .
[OOC: OCD-free, open, Griffin Silver lyrics actually by Terry Moore from vol. 3, issue 53, etc. He's writing a new post-series SiP one-off, whee!]