I think my skills as a writer have improved since last time I posted. What do you all think?
“Good morning.”
“Hardly.” She scoffed setting down her ladle and coming up to me. “What’s wrong with you? Lately all you’ve been doing is sleeping.” Her brow furrowed as she sat me down at the couch, sitting next to me.
“I’ve just been staying up too late lately. Insomnia.”
“Maybe you should go to the doctor.”
“It’s only been three days Rink, I’ll be just fine.” I reassured her.
She got up and strode into the kitchen where she left the role of worried sister and went back to master chef.
As her back was turned to me, working on her soup masterpiece, I laid a hand on my head and pushed back the hair that was stuck to my skin, whipping away the sweat. All this nervousness was making me edgy; I don’t think I would be able to sit in one place for very long. I wiggled on the couch, twisting into different positions, laying down, sitting straight, putting my feet up, which I tried not to do because Rink would always slap my feet whenever I did. But she was too busy, and I wanted to be able to relax for a few seconds and eat her delicious meals.
No dice.
I got up took my coat and keys and left out the door.
Rink had noticed, but she didn’t say anything to me this time, just let me go. It was what I did sometimes, and she knew it. I’d just go out and not come back for hours. She still didn’t know where I was or what I did during these times; she just knew that when I came back I would have a calmer outlook on practically anything. She’d tested me once when we were younger, and she’d done the most annoying things, but none oddly enough set me off, it didn’t even irritate me. I was able to sit back and relax.
I hoped it was the case this time.
“Good morning.”
“Hardly.” She scoffed setting down her ladle and coming up to me. “What’s wrong with you? Lately all you’ve been doing is sleeping.” Her brow furrowed as she sat me down at the couch, sitting next to me.
“I’ve just been staying up too late lately. Insomnia.”
“Maybe you should go to the doctor.”
“It’s only been three days Rink, I’ll be just fine.” I reassured her.
She got up and strode into the kitchen where she left the role of worried sister and went back to master chef.
As her back was turned to me, working on her soup masterpiece, I laid a hand on my head and pushed back the hair that was stuck to my skin, whipping away the sweat. All this nervousness was making me edgy; I don’t think I would be able to sit in one place for very long. I wiggled on the couch, twisting into different positions, laying down, sitting straight, putting my feet up, which I tried not to do because Rink would always slap my feet whenever I did. But she was too busy, and I wanted to be able to relax for a few seconds and eat her delicious meals.
No dice.
I got up took my coat and keys and left out the door.
Rink had noticed, but she didn’t say anything to me this time, just let me go. It was what I did sometimes, and she knew it. I’d just go out and not come back for hours. She still didn’t know where I was or what I did during these times; she just knew that when I came back I would have a calmer outlook on practically anything. She’d tested me once when we were younger, and she’d done the most annoying things, but none oddly enough set me off, it didn’t even irritate me. I was able to sit back and relax.
I hoped it was the case this time.