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Post by Leigh Sainte - Julienne on May 10, 2009 8:56:40 GMT -5
You had to love that nice dusty book smell. Leigh had come to the library today to get her fix of literature. Dressed in a plaid flannel shirt that reached almost to her knees, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, and a pair of non-intentionally ripped and faded jeans, Leigh would have looked like she had jumped right out of a cowboy movie if it weren't for the makeup. She even had a tawny owl feather in her hair.
Leigh dragged her fingers across all the cracked spines of the old books until she came across a familiar title etched faintly into the cover, faded from years of wear. A bright yellow book: English Fairy Tales. Leigh grinned at just the thought of Snow-White and Rose-Red, Rushen Coatie, The Fish and the Ring, all those stories that nobody really cared about, but were all far better than their modernized relatives, the ones where nobody dies. This generation was so sensitive, they probably couldn't deal with it anyway. Gently, like an archaeologist with an artefact from Tut's tomb, she pulled the old yellow book from out between the two others, holding the book on her two hands. Slowly, Leigh sank into a cross-legged sitting position on the floor and opened the book to somewhere in the middle, the spine creaking and protesting from the lack of use. The story? Johny-Cake, the inspiration for the one about the Gingerbread man. Much the same as that one, except instead of a gingerbread man there was a Johny-cake, whatever that was.
Like almost every one in this book. Leigh had read it before. Absently, she hummed French Perfume while reading. It was a folky song by a band that was all-too-popular in her hometown. Leigh reminisced about the time her and her best friend Maria had drove into St John's just for the concert on Leigh's birthday. Maria, being the typical best friend, had to arrange with management to be allowed to hurl her onto the stage and have the band announce it to everybody. After being dragged (kicking and screaming) into a stupid spotlight, stupid Alan Doyle asked if she had anything to say. Dramatically narrowing her eyes, Leigh had growled into the mic, 'Maria McMaster, I'm going to KILL you.' everyone cheered. Smirking, Leigh broke into spontaneous off-key song. And he hit the rocks at fifty clicks and the sky lit up with FIIIIIIIIRRRREEEE!
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