Relaxing, poetic, and with a touch of weirdness...imagine that. This is about POV, mainly.
|Along the road, Mari pursed her lips.
She didn't feel like walking, not really.
It was a brisk, cold morning. Leaves fluttered about, falling 10 and rising 2, and all over again, until it hit the floor with an unheard crash.
Mari tried to catch a couple, but always ended up with one she didn't even try to catch. Mari danced about, wrapping her hands around a thin tree and spinning. She launched herself at another.
Beatrice stared at Mari, gripping her binder and briskly speeding away. Though she had to admit the view was quite pretty, she didn't want to look like that girl...enjoying it too much.
She thought, What an idiot.
Beatrice lowered her eyes to the light tan pathway. She wondered how the grass stopped at one point, then continued as if there was no obstacle. She saw how wonderfully straight and slightly flawed it was, and it reminded her of herself.
"Not wonderfully straight, more like stick-straight," she said aloud.
Clark stared at Beatrice, his hands in his pockets. At first, she seemed not too bad to the eye, but when she started talking to herself...that disturbed him. And of all the words in the human language, "Not wonderfully straight, more like stick-straight"? Like, why? Clark kicked at a rock, only to have it rebound on another and smack him on a toe.
Prim stared at Clark, and almost burst out laughing. She hid it with a cough, but couldn't hold that for very long. Prim doubled over laughing, clutching her stomach. She didn't bother to look up to check if Clark was staring at her...she didn't care anyway. Prim gave one look at the stone that had rebounded, then the stone it had reflected off of, and laughed again. This time, she caught Clark glancing at her, and immediately stopped.
"Best moment of my life," she whispered to herself, and laughed again.
Rich stared at Prim. Usually, when someone laughs, it's contagious to him. He was that kind of person. Unfortunately, the usually prim and proper Prim--oh, the irony--was laughing like a dumbsicle right in front of him. He scrunched his nose up without realizing it, and, out of habit, waved her away with a hand. Of course, she couldn't see him, but it was just a habit. He couldn't help it.
Mike stared at Rich with eyes symbolizing depression.
Julie stared at Mike with disgust.
Geoffrey stared at Julie lovingly.
Chadwick stared at Geoffrey with curiosity.
Heather stared at Chadwick, disturbed.
And then, Mari reached the end of the Autumn Trail, and sighed in content.
Word count: 435