06-16-2008, 11:38 PM
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Hel!
It was very, very bright - and it was hot. He wore his tight pants low, trying to get as much air as possible, and the legs were rolled up a little. He knew it looked stupid, but it was warm enough for Kansas not to care. He held his black pouch in his hand as usual, still looking boyish in the way that he swung it around as he walked. Inside was a charming book he'd found about a British wizard (he was nearly finished), as well as some cloth he'd found in the house a few days ago. Some was black, others were lilac, red, and blue. He was surprised at how much he'd found - it had been in a little room full of extra sheets and moth-eaten quilts.
Kansas stopped next to a maple tree, touched the strong trunk absently. It was pretty. The leaves were pretty, too; bright green, dancing in the slight breeze like little forest fairies. The trees were sweet-smelling; they smelled like summer. Kansas sat down beside his tree and hung his head, slipping into another one of his absent-minded trances. He didn't know why he'd taken the cloth. It was beautiful, but he had absolutely no use for it. Perhaps later he'd find his mother and see if she wanted it; he needed to pay her a visit anyway.
He closed his eyes but didn't sleep. It was the heat, or perhaps he was calmed by the simple fact that it was summer.
It was very, very bright - and it was hot. He wore his tight pants low, trying to get as much air as possible, and the legs were rolled up a little. He knew it looked stupid, but it was warm enough for Kansas not to care. He held his black pouch in his hand as usual, still looking boyish in the way that he swung it around as he walked. Inside was a charming book he'd found about a British wizard (he was nearly finished), as well as some cloth he'd found in the house a few days ago. Some was black, others were lilac, red, and blue. He was surprised at how much he'd found - it had been in a little room full of extra sheets and moth-eaten quilts.
Kansas stopped next to a maple tree, touched the strong trunk absently. It was pretty. The leaves were pretty, too; bright green, dancing in the slight breeze like little forest fairies. The trees were sweet-smelling; they smelled like summer. Kansas sat down beside his tree and hung his head, slipping into another one of his absent-minded trances. He didn't know why he'd taken the cloth. It was beautiful, but he had absolutely no use for it. Perhaps later he'd find his mother and see if she wanted it; he needed to pay her a visit anyway.
He closed his eyes but didn't sleep. It was the heat, or perhaps he was calmed by the simple fact that it was summer.