a story: carried away

"junk," she declared.

"junk?"

"junk."

she chewed her bottom lip. contemplatively. junk? she thought. she stared at it. she tried to see it. she squinted.

she secretively held on to it.

she couldn't hide all the 'junk' she wanted from that little dusty basement under those disapproving eyes, so she kept her one little treasure clutched in her pocket and tried to hide the wonderment in her eyes. she probably wasn't doing a good job. she had never seen so much 'junk' before in one place.

and she could have every little bit of it she wanted?!

she was still excited, but she used everything she had to restrain herself. both in respect for the passing and out of sheer necessity of needing to fit everything into her little apartment.

(perhaps she would buy a bigger place)

IN hale. e . x . h . . a . . l . . e . . . let's be reasonable about this. let's not get carried away.

she has a tendancy to get carried away.

she knows this because disapproving eyes are so clear about it. she knows it in this basement. she pretends she will not be taking any of it.