[The tingling sensation surging through her fingers is normal. That’s what she had been told by the psychologist, who had been pressing the issue that Linda couldn’t remain attached to her notebook and pens and pencils for the rest of her life. She had to find another outlet for her pent up energy, one that would be possible for her to rely on when it just wasn’t practical for her to block the rest of the world out and focus solely upon the pencil’s lines and shadows she created on blank sheets.
That’s why she is staking out the common room, knees pulled under herself and on top of her hands to try to numb the tingling. She’s going to find a friend today. She likes making friends; she just wasn’t very good at it in her opinion.
So far she hasn’t found anyone suitable. Almost everyone is busy and definitely not going to take time from their leisure to speak with her.
She’s about to leave as her eyes do another quick scan of the large room. Maybe she has missed someone. Then she spots him at the opposite side of the room.
He is doing absolutely nothing. This was perfect. Linda quickly unfolds her legs from underneath her and clenches and unclenches her hands a few times as she approaches the boy, to will away any nervousness. When she reaches him, she hopes she isn’t interrupting some sort of internal monologue running through his mind.]
Hello. My name is Linda.
[It’s the repetitive saying of that name that bothers Linda throughout the day. It isn’t her, but this was all there was to her life now. She smiles slightly to the boy, remembering vaguely that she’s seen him around a few times in between classes and meal times.]
no subject
[The tingling sensation surging through her fingers is normal. That’s what she had been told by the psychologist, who had been pressing the issue that Linda couldn’t remain attached to her notebook and pens and pencils for the rest of her life. She had to find another outlet for her pent up energy, one that would be possible for her to rely on when it just wasn’t practical for her to block the rest of the world out and focus solely upon the pencil’s lines and shadows she created on blank sheets.
That’s why she is staking out the common room, knees pulled under herself and on top of her hands to try to numb the tingling. She’s going to find a friend today. She likes making friends; she just wasn’t very good at it in her opinion.
So far she hasn’t found anyone suitable. Almost everyone is busy and definitely not going to take time from their leisure to speak with her.
She’s about to leave as her eyes do another quick scan of the large room. Maybe she has missed someone. Then she spots him at the opposite side of the room.
He is doing absolutely nothing. This was perfect. Linda quickly unfolds her legs from underneath her and clenches and unclenches her hands a few times as she approaches the boy, to will away any nervousness. When she reaches him, she hopes she isn’t interrupting some sort of internal monologue running through his mind.]
Hello. My name is Linda.
[It’s the repetitive saying of that name that bothers Linda throughout the day. It isn’t her, but this was all there was to her life now. She smiles slightly to the boy, remembering vaguely that she’s seen him around a few times in between classes and meal times.]