I spend my days with little people; exploring the world, expanding their minds, until they grow to be bigger-little people.
I like puns. They make me laugh.
I like writing. It helps me think.
I like The Holy Trinity. They make me feel.
Previous chapter can be found here.
“Urggghhh” Hannah groans. What time is it now? She squints at the window. It’s dark, meaning either she’s been asleep for 20 minutes or close to twelve hours.
When she rolls over, Hannah realises she’s fallen asleep in the jeans she was wearing last night. Perfect, looks like that’s another day she hasn’t thought showering was necessary.
Hannah stretches out and arches her back, trying to get better access to her pockets to pull out her phone. Pressing the home button she hisses, turning her face away from the light. It’s screen shining too brightly in the otherwise dark room. Barely opening her eyes, she peeks at the screen. It’s late, so late that it might be considered early.
There are more after this one, about five.
I don’t mind at all. You ask whatever you like! I’m sorry though, I am probably going to leave that one where it is. Honestly, I wouldn’t know how to continue it. I’m so glad you liked it though, it was a little different…
Thank you, I’ll endeavour to enjoy the rest of my night. You enjoy your day too! :)
This one was a little tricky. I don’t know how well it fits the 60s, but I had a go. Thanks for your suggestion!
SFW, 2 688 words.
Hannah should be used to the silence by now. It’s always quiet on her days. She doesn’t know why her parents keep insisting she work for them. Their hopes of her finding a husband should have been squashed years ago when they’d tried to marry her to the butcher’s son. She’d refused vehemently, all but throwing a tantrum like a child.
She didn’t dare tell them why, she’d seen how the town had treated the councillor’s son. He’d tried to tell his parents, and they didn’t understand. Things got a little rough for him, with people starting rumours and avoiding him in town, but Hannah had been his friend. Until he had moved away, a fresh start he said. Somewhere people didn’t know him, wouldn’t judge him for the way he was born.
But her town hadn’t forgotten. They’d pieced it together, and they knew.
Wouldn’t that be a lovely dream. Fictional drunk Hannah is pretty adorable. Thanks! I’m excited for you to read the rest of it :)
The important thing is that you’re with us now. Hi new friend! I’m so glad you’ve enjoyed what I’ve posted so far. I can’t give you cheese, nor can I give you the next part just yet. But I appreciate your message. Thank you so much for reading! :)
Monday AEST, but Sunday night GMT :)
I see what you did there, and I love it :)
Yes! It sure was. I really do love that song. I’m so glad you saw it :) Thank you!
Sorry about your pain. I get it. I’m in the same position. I know! But I started posting this in January! It’s been so long! Only 5/6 more parts and then we’re done!
but thank you! :)
I don’t think it’s wrong, but I don’t know, I already have the next chapter…
You are most welcome. Thank you for coming back and reading each time. And for this lovely message! :)
No thank you! For this message and being such a lovely person.