Post by viola on Nov 10, 2007 13:12:21 GMT
A magical powered Ipod was playing. It was Viola's, the one she had gotten for her 14th birthday. It was an old model, and she really wanted one of those new ones. But she had no clue how much it cost.
The contraho lounge was empty. Good. She hated it when she tried to write poetry and there were people looking over her shoulder. It was so annoying. There would be distractions everywhere, and Viola wanted to keep her poems private. No one had to know what her poems were.
She took out her quill and ink, and stared at the parchment before her, trying to think of meaningful poem to write.
The contraho lounge was empty. Good. She hated it when she tried to write poetry and there were people looking over her shoulder. It was so annoying. There would be distractions everywhere, and Viola wanted to keep her poems private. No one had to know what her poems were.
She took out her quill and ink, and stared at the parchment before her, trying to think of meaningful poem to write.