These are a record of my thoughts, musings, some works in progress, and inspirational material. Please feel free to comment (particularly with any constructive criticism) on any of my entries. Thank you for taking the time to read my writing.
Friday, September 3, 2010
The student: A scene
THE ENGLISH STUDENT
by
Chris Pelletier
copyright 2009
The English school’s glass door flew open, and Noie strolled in wearing a cream-colored winter jacket with white, faux fur trim. The staff of the school chimed out a chorus of friendly salutations, but the fifteen-year-old girl neither looked at them nor responded.
She marched passed the reception counter, but stopped mid-stride in the lobby; she noticed that her room was occupied. An audible sigh wheezed out as she realized that she was confined to the round, wobbly wooden table nearby.
The black no-name bag that hung from her shoulder hit the table with a thud! She then ripped down the zipper of her jacket, revealing an off-white shirt with an outline of a dog on it with a Japanese-English slogan on the front saying “Snoopy are nice DOG”.
After rifling through the bag, her black eyebrows rose, and she took out a vinyl Harry Potter folder, placing it on the table with gentle care. Her slender fingers ran through her shoulder-length dark brown hair. She released a small sigh and opened it up. Slowly she removed a red poster with members from the Japanese boy band Arashi. A smile unfurled from her full lips, stretching the slim scar just to the right of her lower lip.
Several minutes passed before her trance was broken. She shook her head, put the poster back into the folder, and took out a thick geology book from her bag. A groan slipped through her lips and her round face grimaced. Opening the book, she gazed at a page; her eyes closed and again she shook her head.
A vibration came from her bag. She shoved her hand in, pulled out her white cell phone, flicked it open and scanned with her dark Asian eyes. At first, her face was lit up with happiness, but as moments passed, her expression went sullen. Her short fingers clicked like mad on the number pad, like she was playing a video game. She closed the lid of her phone with a slam, groaned again and put buried her face in her arms on the table.
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