#wilmingtonstart

“Good God, what have I gotten myself into,” the artist mumbled in a string of expletives under his breath before turning his attention back to the assumed patron who had stopped by his studio. “--So, as I was saying...you’re welcome to stay and join me for some tea if you would like, but I’m not open for public showings. I’m sorry about the confusion my recently fired assistant might have caused with that Craigslist ad. I’m trying to rent out the space upstairs and somehow everything has gotten mixed up,” he was saying as he meticulously wrapped some lithographs in protective packaging. He labored over relying on Fed Ex to ensure the priceless works’ safe arrival to their destination, a museum showing in Lisbon he’d reluctantly agreed to, but other than hand delivery. Letting go of his need to control every aspect of every step in the process was hard but really was his most viable option.  “Anyway, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but maybe I can help you track down whatever it is you’re looking for?” he says, pausing for a beat, tired hues scanning the space for needed supplies. “Would you mind handing me that packing tape, there, on the shelf next to where you’re standing?”

"Hey, you wanna buy me some food? I swear I'll make it up to you. Whether it's sex or having a Disney movie marathon, I don't care, I'm just hungry."

and we can totally plot. AND THIS GOES FOR KEANU TOO. i just don’t havea bio up for him yet.  i’ll respond to new starters and make one of my own.

In the war of comfort against proper etiquette, comfort won. That was why Geonna’s petite frame relaxed against the bench, legs outstretched and a sunhat covering her face. Children stared, as did adults with better judgment but she didn’t care. Her days in this small town were long and her ache for excitement was deep -- more importantly, she was lost. Embarrassing, to be lost in a town that paled in comparison to the brilliant cities she spent only fleeting moments in before she was on to the next. A slow breath was expelled from her pink lips as she assumed there was a presence near her. “Mi sono persa,” an admittance that stung less in her native tongue. And although she was sure whomever it was that was beside her wouldn’t catch the reference ( and what a PITY that would be! ), she extended her hand nonetheless. “Thank you very much, delighted, no thank you,” using the other hand to tug the hat down to her stomach in an attempt not to seem as if her father had taught her absolutely N O home training, she purred, “charmed. Care to sit?”

“ good morning, neighbor ! " paige chirped as the door opened, a grin forming on her lips as she pushed the plate towards them. " uh, i don't know if you like chocolate... or strawberries... or tarts... but, i made chocolate-strawberry tartlets and there's plenty to share ! would you like some ? and if you don't like chocolate-strawberry, i can make you something else... "