Post by Deleted on Oct 10, 2013 20:12:28 GMT
There was a low whistle and Freyja blinked her eyes owlishly. Shaking her head, she got up from her chair and made herself a cup of extra strong coffee: espresso, no sugar. It never failed to wake her up. Most people would wrinkle their noses at the bitter, strong substance, but Freyja practically lived on it - happily, too!
She brought the cup of coffee with her as she made her way downstairs and was cocooned in the smell of old books. It mingled with the scent of her coffee, a familiar mix that had her sigh in happiness. It was still full darkness outside, the stars cheerfully greeting her as she stuck her head out the door and yawned. Making sure to lock the door behind her, she made her way down the cobbled street, cup in hand, her comfy shoes making no sound as she made her way to the deserted beach.
Most people have some sort of habit - a ritual that centers them in the chaos and maelstrom that is life. Freyja's ritual was to take a small walk on the beach whenever she woke up. It was the only time of the day when her bookshop, Quizzical Quills, would assuredly be closed.
A smile stretched her lips, unseen by anyone but the sea and the gulls. Like always, Freyja couldn't help her feet from wandering and by the time she noticed it, her pants were wet almost all the way up to her knees. Amused and annoyed in equal shares, she snorted and decided to make her way back to the bookshop soon. The stars were vanishing in the sky and a pink/golden light was rising above the watery horizon.
'I hope Miss Lockwood doesn't forget to pick up her novels again...' Freyja thought to herself, failing to notice that her stubborn legs were not, in fact, moving.
She brought the cup of coffee with her as she made her way downstairs and was cocooned in the smell of old books. It mingled with the scent of her coffee, a familiar mix that had her sigh in happiness. It was still full darkness outside, the stars cheerfully greeting her as she stuck her head out the door and yawned. Making sure to lock the door behind her, she made her way down the cobbled street, cup in hand, her comfy shoes making no sound as she made her way to the deserted beach.
Most people have some sort of habit - a ritual that centers them in the chaos and maelstrom that is life. Freyja's ritual was to take a small walk on the beach whenever she woke up. It was the only time of the day when her bookshop, Quizzical Quills, would assuredly be closed.
A smile stretched her lips, unseen by anyone but the sea and the gulls. Like always, Freyja couldn't help her feet from wandering and by the time she noticed it, her pants were wet almost all the way up to her knees. Amused and annoyed in equal shares, she snorted and decided to make her way back to the bookshop soon. The stars were vanishing in the sky and a pink/golden light was rising above the watery horizon.
'I hope Miss Lockwood doesn't forget to pick up her novels again...' Freyja thought to herself, failing to notice that her stubborn legs were not, in fact, moving.
