Accidentally Part 2

The last thing Daren remembered was the feel of something hard hitting the back of his head and darkness seeping into his vision as he blacked out. Now, after waking up, he finds himself in an unfamiliar living room, griping onto the wrist of this unknown woman who had been reaching for him.

He takes a closer look at her face and he can see the colour draining from it as she stares at him. He had no idea who she was, but she also looked weak enough that he doubted she was the one who had hit him. Without releasing her, he takes a better look of his surroundings.

He was prone on a brown two seater couch in a small living room, out the window he could see high rises, so they must be in an apartment building at a decent height. He could see the kitchen through one door and the end of a bed through another, it appeared to not be a very large apartment.

The only noises he could hear inside were her laboured and panicky breaths as well as his own breathing. Looking at the coffee table showed him a bowl of water and in her other hand was a small towel. This and the lack of other noises indicated to him that she probably was not a threat.

He slowly releases her arm and watches as she cradles it to her chest, but otherwise stays still. "Where am I?" is is first question.

He watches as she visibly swallows, doing nothing to hide her fear. "You're um, you're in my apartment a few blocks over from the newspaper company," she answers.

"And how did I get here?"

"I carried you here," she whispers meekly.

He sighs, "Let me rephrase, why am I here?"

She flinches at his tone, "I'm sorry, but you were in my car."

That causes him to frown, wondering what she was on about. "I was in your car?"

"Yes," she replies. "I left work and it wasn't until I got out of my car here that I saw you in the back seat. I saw that you were injured, so decided to bring you upstairs to help you. I didn't know who you were until now."

Until now? That was a curious thing to say considering he had not even told her who he was. She must have seen the confusion, because she was flinching again before elaborating. "I didn't see your face properly until you woke up, but I know you. Rather, I know of you."

That made more sense, and he takes another look around her apartment. He takes in the newspapers stacked on her table, the degree hanging above her desk and remembers her comment about the newspaper company. He repressed a laugh, "You're Yvonne Clark, you wrote that article about me last week."

She bites her lip and almost appears to whimper, but given she clearly knows who is and what he is capable of, he guesses that response is normal. "Ah, yes, that was me," she answers, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Not a very flattering picture of me," he teases.

"That wasn't me, um, that was my partner," she rushes to explain. "He's the photographer."

She clearly was unable to understand that he was just teasing her, it was not like he was going to hurt her over it. Though when he thinks back on some of the contents of the article, maybe she thought he might.

This could be fun.

-

Meanwhile, in the parking garage of the apartment building, there was a phone ringing on the floor of the back seat of Yvonne's car. The caller ID read 'Paul (Bodyguard 3).' As the ringing stopped, a notification appeared '13 missed calls from Paul (Bodyguard 3).'

Paul, Bodyguard 3, was getting very worried.

So, I didn't write for 2 days, whoops. I was very engrossed in other things these last two days, but here I am, writing part 2 of the last post. Just like the last story with a part 2, it's a POV swap, because I thought it would be fun.

On another note, tomorrow is the start of July CampNaNo, one of the two practice months for the actual NaNoWriMo in November. So hopefully that means I'll be posting and working on my novel every day. Fingers crossed. Word goal for this camp is 25k, let's go.

Accidentally

Yvonne was feeling cold, not the temperature sort, more like the kind where your body goes still, your face looses all its blood and you feel your imminent demise. She was feeling that because she was almost certain that today was the day she dies, her eyes never straying from the incredibly good looking man on her couch who was glaring her down.

Rewind one hour and we have the start of the situation in which Yvonne now found herself.

Yvonne spent most of her days in her office at the local newspaper company. Her partner did the leg work and got the photos, she wrote the articles. Some days she stayed back late just to get the writing done, which happened more often when a lot of rumours were floating around about this celebrity or that one.

Tonight was one of those days and it was nearing nine o'clock at night when she finally sat down in her car and took a deep breath. She loved her job, but it sure was exhausting. She pulled out of her regular spot and drove off for home. If she had been a little less tired, she might have noticed that her car was unlocked when she reached it.

It was after she had reached home and parked in her designated spot at her apartment complex, that her gaze passed over her back seat. Which was when she finally noticed she had an unexpected passenger.

Her first instinct was to step back in fear, but when her senses returned, she finally noticed he had yet to move. She thought back to her drive, he must be unconscious or he would have done something by now, especially during the drive. 

With hesitation, she reached for the door handle and slowly opened the door. She was unable to see the man's face as it was hidden under his right arm, but she was now able to see a bit of red in his blonde hair. He was clearly injured and that set her into motion.

As small as she was, she mustered up the strength of a person unable to leave behind someone in need, and hauled him out of the car. She strained under his much bigger build, but was able to shut the door and locked her car.

It was slow going, yet she managed to get him into the elevator, and after leaning him against one corner, she pressed the button for her floor. She had no idea who this man was and she really hoped all her neighbours were already home, she did not want any of them to see this.

She leaned against the opposite wall of the elevator, closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had no idea what she was doing, but she sure hoped it was worth it. 

She opened her eyes and looked in his direction, she was still unable to see his face as it now tilted down into his chest, but he certainly had a nice body from what she could see through the Henley and black skinny jeans . She shook her head of the thought, now was not the time, and walked over to haul him back onto her shoulders, they had nearly reached her floor.

She heard the ping that indicated they had reached her floor and after the doors opened, she stuck her head out, looking around to make sure none of her neighbours on her floor were outside their rooms.

The coast was clear and she hastily made her way to her door, which was conveniently only three doors down. She got her keys out of her bag, unlocked the door and basically pushed the poor man to rest against the inside of her apartment so that she could close the door.

She had made it into her apartment, the last step was to get the man onto her couch. She was nearing complete exhaustion and muscle cramps when she placed him on the couch, as carefully as she could so as not to hurt him further.

Now that she would no longer have to move him around, she stretched out her aching shoulders and her legs.

Next, she moved to her bathroom for a towel and bowl of water, she wanted to find and clean the injury in the hopes to see how bad it was. She prayed it was nothing too serious, the last thing she wanted to do was have to drag him back to her car to take him to the hospital. Which in hindsight, maybe she should have done that in the first place.

Not being able to change the past, she gathers what she needs and heads back into her living room. The man had not moved, but she feared he could still wake up at any moment. Placing the bowl on the coffee table, she reached forward to turn him properly onto his back. He chose that moment to wake up.

His hand shot out and wrapped around her wrist, stopping her movements as she reeled from shock. Without letting her go, he sat up carefully, clearly his head was still a bit tender. When he was fully upright, she finally got a proper look at his face and she froze.

Even the dried trickles of blood could not cover the recognisable features of his face. She had just written an article about this very man only last week. Not the celebrity rumour kind, nor the popular business man kind. No, he had been in the 'head of a mafia group' kind.

She had accidentally kidnapped a mafia boss. Hence the cold dread of her imminent demise.

-

Meanwhile, in the parking lot of the local newspaper, two men were scratching their heads over where their boss was. They had been sure they had put him in the backseat of their car before chasing down the guys who knocked him out, but he was no where in sight.

Prompt: Reverse Trope - Accidentally kidnapping a mafia boss.

I'm thinking this needs a part 2 tomorrow. Yes, yes it does. And honestly, this feels like it needs a whole book if given enough love, but I don't have time to entertain that thought 😅

Timing

Most nights found me struggling to sleep, as soon as I put my head to the pillow, that is when my brain chooses to be thinking about everything at the speed of light. It just refuses to stop. So I toss and I turn, hoping for the moment when the light finally turns off and I can sleep.

Sometimes this can happen quickly, other times it takes almost an hour. Tonight was one of those nights that it was a bit in-between, my thirty minute sleep music had just ended, and I must have fallen asleep not long after. I know this because I was asleep when my phone rang.

I was jolted into wakefulness by the sound. I used Do Not Disturb mode at night, so either this was someone on my emergency bypass, or they had tried calling a second time. With a groan, I blindly reach for my phone and only open my eyes when it is before my face.

As I take in the name on the screen, I let out another groan of dismay. It was my brother.

I sigh, hit accept and put the phone to my ear. "Why are you calling at stupid o'clock?" I ask him.

"I need a lift," are his only words and I can just make out the slur in his words.

"Are you drunk?" 

"Not really," he replies, chuckling awkwardly. "But I've definitely had too much to drink."

I take a proper look at the time, it is just after twelve thirty am, I definitely had not been asleep long. "Alright," I reply. "Where are you?"

"Just down the road," he replies, and I can hear the relief in his voice.

I knew 'down the road' meant the local pub, so with a 'see you soon,' I hung up and got dressed into something more decent.

Now that I was properly awake, I knew I would have trouble getting back to sleep later.

Prompt: Just as you fall asleep, the phone rings.

Probably a pretty cliché choice for the prompt, but my brain is a little mush right now. I'd like to point out that this has never happened to me personally, well not quite like this. My brother isn't a drinker, so I've never had to pick him up because he's been drinking, but I have taxied him many places at all kinds of hours. 

Though the having trouble sleeping part is true, I'll spend ages tossing and turning, hoping my brain will shut off so that I can just sleep already.

Journal Entry 2 - *crying*

 Okay, so I went hiking at a nearby conservation park and I had all intentions to write a prompt post and work on my book while I was out here (I am in fact still here). Unfortunately, the keyboard for my iPad has died, so all I can get out right now is using on screen keyboard, which is not sustainable, so this is it for now.

Jokes on me for not making sure everything was charged before I left. So I’ll try to do an actual prompt later this afternoon.

Journal Entry 1 - *facepalm*

I've decided, that amidst my little prompt writes, I'll do the occasional journal entry. Not often, I don't think, but mostly just on days where I've got something to say. So here we go.

Today I had made the executive decision to take my laptop, my printed draft of my book and my iPad (for a bit of e-book reading) to the nearby Zarraffas to get out of the house. What you need to understand, is that my two best friends are overseas right now. One is in England for a month on her own little trip, for the duration of this week she is on a writing retreat. My other friend is in Thailand with her partner for his dad's wedding.

Hence, I am left at home in Australia, on holidays from work, and nothing better to do with my life than write and do craft. I don't really get stir crazy, but being home alone can be a little meh sometimes. And I figured, getting out of the house for some fresh air might help.

So here I was, ready to go, in the car, but then doom, my car won't start. My brand new car that I have only had since October last year. And it wouldn't start.

I did what any self-respecting Aussie with an RACQ membership does and I logged a request with them to sus out why my car wouldn't start. I eventually got an alert that a patrol vehicle was on its way and would be 11 minutes. 

Near half an hour later, I had downed a piece of toast, the last of the coke in the fridge and read half a chapter of a book I'm reading. He still hadn't arrived and according to the tracker, he hadn't moved.

So I called RACQ and got in contact with somewhere there to sort it out. She called him and it turned out the tracker had placed him in that spot before he had gotten there because that was going to be his first stop, at a storage site to pick up a battery for my car just in case that was the problem. I thought, okay sweet, he is on his way now.

Sure enough, less than ten minutes later, he arrives and I tell him my car won't start. This is where it gets interesting, or rather, I had to face palm. Because as soon as he sat in my driver's seat, he said to me, "I know what your problem is."

I think, oh that was quick. Then watched as he moved my joystick from drive into park. I had left my car in drive yesterday. I called him out, he even stopped for a battery, and all I had to do was put my car into park for it to start.

I apologised for my absolutely incredible blonde moment, thanked him for coming and that I hoped he had a good day.

I am now in Zarraffas, drinking my coffee and still feeling mildly embarrassed. 

Desk

The desk was reasonably sized and sat in the corner, in fact, the desk itself was designed to be placed in the corner. If all the shelves were removed, the desk would look diamond-shaped with the tip cut off and the flat top is where the person sits. There is a gap in the corner where the diamond tip would be so that cables can run up from behind.

There is one high shelf above the back area, high enough for a monitor to sit underneath. The desk is mostly symmetrical, with almost identical shelves on either side of the middle one. Two boxes elevated a good few inches from the desk, leaving a pocket for stationary and the sort. There is space above the boxes for anything else too high for the gaps.

The boxes themselves are what make the desk not quite symmetrical. The box on the left is two equal width vertical gaps, designed as bookshelves. The box on the right has a length of CD slots and the rest is a little doored cupboard. 

It's a decent desk to use in an office with small space, but alas, the owner of this desk uses it for her craft and so it does not have a computer at it unless she is typing on her laptop. This desk has a stack of jigsaw puzzle boxes stacked in the large gap at the back with a complete wooden DIY magic emporium on top. This large gap also holds a clock, a LEGO build and a DIY wooden music box orerry she put together a few days ago.

The two bookshelves have a few things that belong to her brother on one side and has her sketchpads, colouring books and learning Korean books on the other. The right box has CDs that also belong to her brother and the little cupboard that yet again, has stuff that belongs to her brother. Though there is a piece of paper stuck on the door that has the holes in her book that she has put up there to remember to fix while she writes the current draft.

On the desk itself, she has pieces for her latest wooden DIY, her tool caddy with pliers, scissors, ruler, wire stripper, wire cutters, box cutter and some glue. There is also a wax diffuser and candles because sometimes this room smells like wood, for obvious reasons, and it's not a great smell. There is also two lamps, one behind her work station to light up most of her work and a second one clipped to the front of the desk that has a magnifying glass because sometimes she needs to get in close.

The top shelves of the desk have more of her LEGO builds, a giant 3D puzzle of a TIE Fighter and still some more weird stuff that belongs to her brother. It's a mess, but you should see it when she is actively working on DIY projects, crap everywhere.

Prompt: Write about a piece of furniture in the room you're in.

I chose the desk I work at because it's the most exciting thing in the room. This is actually the spare bedroom, though originally my brother's, hence the amount of stuff that is his on the desk, but I have since reclaimed it as my craft room. The bed is covered in yet to be built DIY projects and the stuff I need for the current one. The bookshelves and the tall boy are covered in 3D puzzles, more LEGO and framed diamond art work. Yet more framed diamond art work is hanging on the walls.

I'm sorry, this is not the spare bedroom, it is my craft room that happens to have a bed in it. I lied earlier.

And just in case my description was not good enough, here is a picture.

Like I said, it's a mess.

How Unexpected Part 2

The overkill on number of beds aside, Michael was incredibly nervous about having to share a room with Mia. He had been crushing on her ever since she joined his department last Spring. She looked nervous about having to share a room with him too, but he figured any woman would be when faced with having to share a room with a man she barely knew.

That intern in Finance, whose name he keeps forgetting, told him he should finally just ask Mia out for lunch or something. He was way too nervous for that, and not to mention the fact that she was definitely out of his league. No, he was content to just be her colleague, catching glimpses of her whenever she walked passed his desk.

This was pushing his nerves though. He had been told he would be joining her for the business trip as her fellow representative and he had nearly had an aneurism. It was an honour just to be put on one of these trips, but now he had to contend with going on a trip with the woman he liked. It was a bit hard to keep his cool.

The flight went by in silence and the taxi ride to the hotel was the same, but now here they stood in a hotel room they had to share. He had half expected some cliché like there only being one bed, which he would have died over, but four beds? 

She would be able to go the whole night without hearing him snoring if they took beds diagonal from each other, but somehow he did not see that being a comfort for the poor woman. "I'll take this one closer to the door, if that's okay?" he manages to force out.

He figured she might feel safer to be further from the door, just in case someone came in through the night. 

"Um, sure," she answers, moving towards the bed he thought would have been a good choice.

Her moves were sort of stiff and he had a sudden thought that maybe she would feel more comfortable near the door, being closer to the exit. She had not said anything, so he put his bag down on the bed nearest the door, almost as stiff as she had been.

This was going to be a long night.

A continuation of the last post, but there was no real prompt for this, I just did a POV swap and added some mutual pining for giggles. 

Also, I didn't post anything yesterday, so whoops. I'll try and get a second one out today to make up for it. It is currently almost 12:30pm here, so I have time.

How Unexpected

Mia had been hiding her feelings for her co-worker for months now, though not very well. She was sure Susan from HR had figured her out and she was certain that Finance Intern whose name she always forgot had definitely caught on. Yet the one who was the most oblivious was the focus of her crush himself. 

This week, her and Michael had been selected to attend a business trip, it involved a conference that they needed a representative of the company to attend. She thought nothing of it when she was told she was going, but then she found out the guy she liked was chosen as her second and she almost lost her lunch. 

She would have to fly out with him, and she would have to talk to him, a lot. She somehow survived the flight and even the awkward conversations on their way to their hotel. After arriving at said hotel, and then moving on to talk to the receptionist to secure their rooms, there came one more test of her sanity.

"One room?" she asked, her breath caught in her throat as she choked on air.

"That's correct," the woman replies, her customer service smile pasted on her face.

"I'm positive our company booked two rooms," Michael says, prompting the woman to check again in that deep voice that had Mia's legs shaking.

"I'm afraid that due to the number of companies sending representatives and the time of year, our hotel is only able to accommodate each company with one room each."

Mia deflated, she would have to share a room with her crush. She felt like she was suddenly living in some kind of TV drama where ridiculous things like this always happened.

She remained silent as Michael hesitantly took the key from the receptionist, his eyes traveling to Mia, noticing her mood. Figures he would notice immediately when she was in distress but never noticed the way her eyes always lingered on him in the lunch room or the way she always took the longer route to the bathroom just to catch a glimpse of him. 

She followed him to the elevator and allowed him to lead her to their room. All kinds of scenarios ran through her head, like if her life had really suddenly turned into a drama, then who knew what might happen on this trip. What kinds of things happened in dramas again? One thought popped into her head clearly, and she really begged there would at least be more than one bed.

She held her breath as he turned the key and opened the door. He walked in first and she shuffled after him, dreading what she would find.

She made it passed the entryway and paused as she took in the sight. "Well that is a bit much." she hears Michael mutter.

He had a point, this room had four beds in it, each one a double. They could have a room side each, go diagonally for beds, and would probably not even be able to hear if the other snored.

She was suddenly very disappointed.

Prompt: Reverse Trope - Too Many Beds

I found some reverse trope prompts a little while ago, they sounded hilarious, but also really good, so I took note of them and here is one now. Maybe I'll do a part two, we'll see.

Soar

As I flew through the evening air, I surveyed the land below me. The green of the fields turning dark as the sun set and the mountains as they helped to block out the sun. The humans in their villages were already in their dwellings, the scent of food on the breeze told me they were eating their meals. 

This was my favourite time to fly, the world was growing still and quiet. It made for a peaceful flight before I too returned to my nest to rest until the next morning. I felt the wind as it moved against my feathers, keeping me aloft while also trying to stop me in my tracks. 

I was content, for although I was but a humble bird, my life could be no better than this.

Prompt: Imagine you are a bird, soaring through the sky.

Okay, so I had a big day today and got home late. Hence, I just did a nice quick one, but at least I got out something.

Discovery

I've lived in this house for five years now, so I have had plenty of time to discover every nook and cranny. You would not believe the little hidden wonders I have found over that time. I thought I had found all there was to discover, but today proved that notion wrong.

As I was making my way through the basement, a room I admittedly do not spend a lot of time in, I found something unexpected. In the back corner, hidden almost entirely behind an old desk that was already here when I moved in, sits an unassuming trapdoor. I thought that was rather interesting, a trapdoor in the basement, I was already below ground and yet I could go even further down.

I hesitated at first, the various reasons going through my head about why there would be a trapdoor in the basement were mostly negative ones. It was pretty suspicious, however it was not locked. Maybe it was empty.

Gathering a little courage, I reached down for the circle, metal handle and pulled. For an old door that had not been opened in at least five years, it opened rather easily. As one might expect, it was pitch black down there, after all, the only way light could enter was through the one little door.

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I turned on the flashlight and aimed the beam of light through the opening. From outside, I could make out the ladder and dark concrete floors, but not much else. I would have to go down the ladder if I wanted to know what was down there.

Putting my phone back in my pocket long enough to go down, I put one foot down at a time and within a few seconds, I was in this hidden pocket. I grabbed my phone once again and slowly turned around behind me to see what awaited.

Truthfully, I was half expecting some secret torture room with medieval devices that were impossible to find. With a breath of relief, I realised that my fears were unfounded. In fact, this turned out to be an amazing discovery. As right before me were three large bookshelves, floor to ceiling, absolutely filled with books. Old looking tomes that probably had not seen the light of day in many years.

This was the highlight of my day and I spent many hours investigating the books. Of course, when you are in a room that is several feet below ground, losing track of time is inevitable. Unfortunately, it was well into the night by the time I finally left the room.

Prompt: You discover a trapdoor in your house, what lies beneath?

So, I actually gave this prompt to my year 3 students today, and I figured I would use it as well. When you give a prompt like this to 8-year-olds, you can imagine the kind of answers you will get. I got the usual answers like monsters and even skeletons. One boy specifically wrote dead skulls. I was unaware there were other kinds. Then I had some that thought there were secret pets hiding out down there, cute. The imaginations of children, right?

Why I'm Here

For this prompt, I'll put it at the top. The prompt is "write about why you write." I felt like this is more of an intro than a writing prompt, but I figure it works as something I can quickly write after a long day at work (because let me tell you, it felt like a very looooong day).

So, why do I write? I guess the generic answer would be because I want to be a published author, and well, in order to do that, you need to write. I've always been fond of creative writing, ever since I was at school. Mostly I did it for fun, and short story assessments in high school English were the highlight of my time there. 

In the later years of high school, I was introduced to fanfiction by a friend (who has been one of my best friends for over 10 years and also wants to be a published author). At first, I just read it, but after getting ideas in my head, I started writing fanfics of my own. It was around then that I did a short story task for Year 11 English. I worked my butt off to write that thing and I went through at least three drafts (like, who even does that many drafts for a high school assignment?)

In the end, I only got a C+, and I was absolutely gutted. Yet I showed my family members and my Nana loved it, she told me I should turn it into a book. My Nana, as well as my mum and her sisters, are all avid readers. Sure, she's biased, I was her favourite grandchild (of course), so she was probably just humouring me. However, to 16-year-old me who had just started getting into creative writing, that was all the go ahead I needed to turn that 600 word short story into an actual book.

I spent the next few years trying to get that book done. Did I finish it? No, I definitely didn't. From the various writing books I have read from famous authors, it seems that that is pretty normal. Sometimes, the first really great idea is just not your final product. As I grew older, I looked back on that 600 word short story and thought to myself "ah, I see why I only got a C+." It's not that it was bad, it just wasn't the best I had.

In the last 12 and half years since I graduated high school, I have gone through many story ideas, and very few got passed 10,000 words. About 5 years ago, I worked on one that reached 25k, but I just couldn't get the words to flow after that. So I continued to take the advice of authors who have written books on writing and I just started on a fresh idea. Maybe I'll come back to that one later down the track.

I'm now writing the third draft of my current project, with the most recent draft coming in at 77,000 words. It's a fantasy, so it's not quite the length it needs to be, but the basics are there. I'm just rewriting it and adding more substance as I go. This is my most successful attempt in the 10+ years I've been writing.

This whole thing became a lot more long winded than I intended. The gist? I write because I can, and because I love that I can. My ideas aren't always top notch, but I love sitting at my laptop and letting the words flow. My Nana passed away four years ago, so she's never going to see my published work, but you better believe she'll be in my first Dedication and every Thanks To.

I still have two more days of work before the holidays, so don't expect much writing wise, but hopefully I can give you better writing after that.

Unbelievable

 

So this here is actually one that I wrote ages ago (specifically 15 Oct 22), but I figured I'd start the blog with one I had already written, just to kick it off.

 It's unedited, and I wrote it a while ago, so don't expect anything amazeballs. 

 

At first, she thought someone was messing with her, but Lila was not sure her friends could pull off something this, well, bizarre did not quite cover it. It would have to do though. She was not sure if she was hallucinating, because that would be the second most likely explanation to what appeared to be…aliens? Ah yes, aliens, in her back yard. She had tried rubbing her eyes, pinching her arm and even trying to go back to sleep in the hopes it was just a very weird dream. Alas it appeared that was not the case.

The alien conclusion came from the very obvious blue skin and the fact that yes, they had an extra set of arms coming from their lower back. There was about three of them from what she could see, they were about fifty metres from her window. They appeared to be working on something, what it was she could not say. They were pointing and gesturing in much the same way she had seen scientists do in movies when they were not agreeing on which chemicals to mix or which cable went in which socket. In other words, they were clearly arguing about the state of the, ah, whatever they were looking at.

She was hiding beside her window, only slipping her head around enough to peak out from behind her curtains, though she had quickly decided upon seeing them that she wished she had stayed asleep and remain ignorant to the strange happenings outside her house. She decided to imagine what they were doing while silently watching them. Perhaps they had crashed into her back yard, though she guessed she would have at least heard that much, and that thing they were working on was their damaged ship. Perhaps the reason they were arguing was because not one of them was the engineer, though that seemed ridiculous, and therefore they had no idea what to do to fix the problem.

Honestly, the reason was getting less important as time moved on because after almost twenty minutes of watching, they were still doing the over the top gestures and rude pointing they were doing when she first saw them. She concluded that the only reason she remained watching rather than go back to sleep, was to ensure that they were NOT planning to invade her home and possibly abduct her or her parents. They really did appear only to want to fix their, most likely ship, and return home. Wherever that is.

While being distracted by her inner thoughts, she almost missed the way the most likely ship lit up more than it already was and the obvious joy on the faces of the extraterrestrial non-engineers. She watched them rather hastily enter through what she now realised was the door and take off into the night as if they had never been there.

Lila spent several minutes lying in bed, failing to go back to sleep, thinking about how literally no one is going to believe what she saw outside her window.

Honestly, she still was not sure she believed it herself.

 

Prompt: Outside the window, you see something you can’t believe.