But what shocked Alice the most was the fact that every object moved on its own. Switches and buttons turned on and off as if invisible hands moved them into doing different tasks. There were many different types of large metal bowls hovering above the counter as wooden spatulas and spoons mixed there contents together. And as all of this mayhem of flying objects flew around the man just leaned against the wall to watch with an observing look in his eyes. When he finally looked at Alice the observing look turned into the playful look from the night before.
“Why are you holding an umbrella?”
Noticing that she was gaping at him like a fish, Alice quickly closed her mouth. Her awed gaze turned from embarrassed to angry. Embarrassed for her foolishness at still clutching the umbrella over her head and angry because he saw her embarrassed.
“What are you doing here?!” She nearly shrieked and she knew she probably should call the police. Heck she should be running away, screaming bloody murder. But because she knew that she was a terrible runner she would fall flat on her face. In addition to being a horrible runner her apartment was above her neighbors who soundproofed their walls for their random concerts. Clearly no one would ever be able to hear her in time. So she decided to play this guy’s game till she could get to the front door.
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Friday, November 13, 2009
chap 2 part 1
It wasn’t her sore back or her alarm clock that woke Alice up. It was the smell of food that crept like a silent predator, slowly stalking into her dreams, waking her up. Her stomach growled when she took in a huge weft of bacon. As she became conscious, it occurred to her that she lived alone and that she hadn’t ever told anybody where she lived. Let alone giveaway a lone spare key. And so there was really no logical explanation except for one that could explain why someone was in her kitchen.
Jumping out of bed, she grabbed her robe and pulled it over her tank top and pajama shorts, and opened the door that led to the hallway. On the way she picked up a stray umbrella she had lazily shoved in a corner the night before. Not that she really knew if it would help or not against a burglar. Slowly she made her way down the hallway and quietly began descending the spiral stair case that led to the living room and kitchen. She was just about at the bottom of the stairs when she saw the intruder and nearly fell down the staircase.
“GOOD morning sleepy head! Have a nice sleep?”
There right in front of her was the crazy idiot from the day before. He was wearing the same clothes except his thick locks of hair were tied in a half pony tail that revealed a thin white scar that went from the top of his right cheek bone to almost the bottom of his prominent square
jaw. He was also wearing over his street clothes one of Alice’s white aprons folded in half across his narrow waist. And there, all around him, was what seemed like to was the very definition of chaos.
Flour and sugar covered almost every surface possible, creating a big white cloud that seemed to engulf her kitchen. The once speckled gray and black counter tops were now nearly invisible under of pure whiteness. Even the cabinets had been marked, their smooth mahogany wood smeared with fingerprints. There were bowls, mixers, and other tools that Alice only vaguely remembered possessing after moving into her first apartment but never really got around to unwrapping them. And then there were some that she was fairly sure that she didn’t even own.
Jumping out of bed, she grabbed her robe and pulled it over her tank top and pajama shorts, and opened the door that led to the hallway. On the way she picked up a stray umbrella she had lazily shoved in a corner the night before. Not that she really knew if it would help or not against a burglar. Slowly she made her way down the hallway and quietly began descending the spiral stair case that led to the living room and kitchen. She was just about at the bottom of the stairs when she saw the intruder and nearly fell down the staircase.
“GOOD morning sleepy head! Have a nice sleep?”
There right in front of her was the crazy idiot from the day before. He was wearing the same clothes except his thick locks of hair were tied in a half pony tail that revealed a thin white scar that went from the top of his right cheek bone to almost the bottom of his prominent square
jaw. He was also wearing over his street clothes one of Alice’s white aprons folded in half across his narrow waist. And there, all around him, was what seemed like to was the very definition of chaos.
Flour and sugar covered almost every surface possible, creating a big white cloud that seemed to engulf her kitchen. The once speckled gray and black counter tops were now nearly invisible under of pure whiteness. Even the cabinets had been marked, their smooth mahogany wood smeared with fingerprints. There were bowls, mixers, and other tools that Alice only vaguely remembered possessing after moving into her first apartment but never really got around to unwrapping them. And then there were some that she was fairly sure that she didn’t even own.
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