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Mini Me Mod


jinyu
Age. 37
Gender. Female
Ethnicity.
Location Denver, CO
School. Other
» More info.
Sprocket's Training Milestones
Came home (Aug 2, 2014)
Asked to go outside (Aug 5, 2014)
Slept 4 hours straight (night) (Aug 5-6, 2014)
Crane Count
7/3/13 - 8
7/4/13 - 30
7/5/13 - 36
7/10/13 - 54
7/11/13 - 57
7/18/13 - 67
2/17/14 - 83
(cumulative)
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Moon Mod!
CURRENT MOON
To Read:
- Carrie
- Dream of the Red Chamber
- Time to Kill
- Scent of the Missing
- Stiff
Nano mod!
The Tale of the Naked Woman and more freewrites
Saturday. 9.15.07 11:32 pm
So, I was working in the art studio again today (and burned myself again! GAAAH!!!). I was just trying to puzzle out my chair, the seat failing to connect with the rest of the project, when a nice woman, probably in her thirties or fourties, came in to the room.


She asked a couple of different questions, do we have this, where can she find the recyling, etc. Before she left she declared in a lofty way, "I love this place. It's like my home away from home!"


I remember because I thought it was odd the way she said it, she gave the words such fondness. The art building had always felt a lot more like my workplace. I thought that it might be nice to feel about the place the way she did.


Well, after some work time had gone by, I decided that I needed to head to the bathroom. I plowed through the two doors into the bathroom. I threw up my hands in shock. The woman, who I had seen just a moment ago was half naked in the bathroom, her arms mirroring my own, but more for the sake of modesty. She laughed, apologizing. I laughed uncomfortably in response. As I looked around the room, I realized that her clothes were all around the bathroom. Talk about home away from home. I went to the bathroom and she feebly explained to me things about how her neighbors used up all her hot water.


"I'm here a lot," she explained, "I'm usually here. I'm here when other people aren't here"


She sounded irritated! I quickly went about my business as she rambled on, nodding as understandingly as I could. I gave her a nod and a smile before I left and went straight back to my work. I didn't really tell anyone, though there was a person from my Graphic Design class who was working on her project the same time. It was just odd, I decided, so I thought it a worthy enough subject to note here ^_^.


Now for the next installment of the story. If you read the last installment last night, read it again, I changed the end a little.
----

After that, the next thing Michelle could remember, she was peeling her face off of a leather couch.


“So, how’re you feeling?” a boy, strikingly similar to Cicero in appearance, greeted her. Similar except he was a brunette and was dressed far more conservatively. The door, she realized, had been what had woken her up, the boy was carrying some groceries which he set on the glass table, “Powdered sugar donuts and orange juice, for you. It's what always makes me feel better.”


“CICERO! This is unacceptable! We cannot drive down three hours every time you make a mistake like this,” screamed a woman from the next room.


“Oh God! I don’t even know why I called you. I knew you would be like this,” Cicero groaned, “This is the ONLY time this has ever happened.”


She looked at the boy who was cringing. He looked back at her, “Don’t worry about them. Just eat.”


“What are they arguing about,” she asked.


The threw his eyes up to the ceiling, an expression that was striking familiar on that familiar face. He seemed to search it for a moment before he answered, “You got pretty sick last night, so Aunt Cecilia came down to take care of it.”


“Oh God,” she replied, burying her face in her hands, “I’m soo sorry.”


“Don’t be. It’s not your fault,” he replied honestly.


She shook her head, “I should have stopped drinking way before I did.”


The boy chuckled.


"Just STOP IT!" howled Cicero.


“Alright, I’ll stop,” they heard Aunt Cecilia shout, “but you are not staying here, you are coming back with us.”


The boy looked even more worried, “Um… grab some donuts, we’re going out.”


She looked over at the kitchen door and dutifully grabbed some donuts.


“What!? This is ridiculous. I didn’t do anything?!” Cicero growled.


“Don’t be difficult, Cicero. You’re father and I have been talking about it for some time now. You simply live too far away from your family and I think this proves it.”


The boy got up from his chair and tip-toed over to the door. Michelle followed him.


“No, NO! I'm not doing it. I'm-“


He closed the door on the barrage of noise, “I’m sorry, I thought that you probably wouldn’t want to hear that.”


They walked down the hall. It looked like they were in an apartment building. The hall was split by a elevator entrance. The boy walked up here and pressed the button.


“How old are you?” she asked, looking at him. She couldn’t decide if it was because he looked like Cicero or because of something else, but he seemed to act very old.


“Nineteen,” he said calmly, a light smile brimming on his mouth. It was much more subdued than Cicero’s, much more delicate, “Yourself?”


“Twenty-one,” she replied, “Do you go to the school?”


He shook his head and laughed, “No, no, we aren’t from around here. We just drove down for Cicero, you know?”


“I guess so.”


“Are you in college?” he asked.


“Yeah, I’m- Oh,” the elevator door opened, “That was quick.”


He nodded, “College?”


“Oh, yeah, but not here. I go to school in Wyoming,” she replied.


“Really? Why Wyoming?”


“Well… I don’t know. It’s cheap,” she said. They glided down the three floors to the ground floor.


“I moved your car, I hope you don’t mind,” he said letting her out of the elevator first.


“Shit, I forgot to feed the meter again, didn’t I?” she gasped.


The boy shook his head, “It's okay, we caught it. Are you feeling better?”


“A little,” she admitted, “Thanks. Funny, normally I’m not in the mood for this kind of food when I have a hangover.”


He shrugged. She looked at her watch, “Shit! It’s already one? I gotta go!”


He nodded, “Yeah, I figured. Here’s your keys.”


She grabbed them from him.


“Thanks. Tell Cicero how sorry I am,” she said. A pinch of pain made her reach up to her neck, but she ignored it, “Bye! Nice to meet you!”


And with that she tripped out of the doorway just as the elevator opened on Cicero.


"She's fine. She told me to tell you sorry that she got sick."


Cicero looked at him bewildered, "Why the hell should she be sorry?"


The other shrugged, "Apparently she was more wasted then you thought. She doesn't remember a thing."

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