Wednesday, July 26, 2006

She looked over at the items strewn across her bed and floor, waiting to be packed into her duffle bag. She knows she should be packing- she has to leave tomorrow -but she just didn't feel like it at the moment. She guesses that she is excited. I mean, it's Youth Conference. In past years she'd been too young to go... she should be packing. She should go pack. Like a good girl. Yup. She's going to go pack.
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Monday, July 24, 2006

   She eyed the spot on the wall suspiciously. It stood out like a sore thumb: a brilliant shoot of bright yellow-gold across her deep purple wall. She studied it, then went to her paint box to see if it had been subject to use. It was where it always was: on the floor, somewhere. Upon locating it she opened it and discovered it untouched. Everything was where it was supposed to be. This ruled out her first suspect, her little brother. The slash of colour was apparently paint, and she was the only one in the house that owned paint. She furrowed her brow and decided that it was just a figment of her imagination, and that it probably wouldn't be there the next time she came into the room. She turned to leave, then thought about the small jar of extra purple paint she had saved when she first painted the room. She dug it out of a pile of papers that sat scattered on a dresser. She pulled out her favorite paintbrush, a Purdy that she had bought for eight dollars when she was five, and dipped it gently into the paint. She pulled it out and gracefully swept it across the bright yellow-gold mark. "All better," she said as she went to rinse out her brush. She dried it carefully and placed it back into her paint box.
Later that day, she went to pour herself a glass of punch. She poured a large glass, then went to take a sip. Sitting across from her sat her brother, munching on a cookie. She put the glass to her lips, and her brother reached out and bumped up the bottom. She was covered from head to toe in pink sticky punch. After catching her brother and pouring some odd substance that was sitting on the table on him, she went into the bathroom to take a quick shower and rinse off the punch. She threw her clothes into the hamper, and looked into the mirror. She stood confused as she saw bright yellow-gold paint covering her knee - in the exact spot that paint had always fallen every time she had been painting and got too much paint on the brush.
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Sunday, July 23, 2006

She had just got home from church. The frightening sunday school teacher hadn't been there today. She didn't know whether to be disappointed or grateful. A strange girl was there too. Khepri was forced to be nice to her. It's kind to be friendly, even if it means laughing at weird things and pretending like you're having a great time. She still would have rather just had a regular day.
Khepri's grandmother is in a really rotten mood. It will pass, but after a while, she gets sick of guilt treatments. She just grins and bears it though because gram won't be around much longer. She's already bedridden and smokes 5 packs a day.. and isn't in the best of health. Khepri would be ornery too if she were in Gram's position.
Khepri gets to go to Youth Conference in Cedar City this Thursday. She's excited, and a little uneasy because they don't get to choose their dorm buddies. That means she could end up with complete strangers. Scary.
Well, Khepri should really be going. Her sister and mother aren't home, and this would be the best time to practice her viola.
Cheers.
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Saturday, July 8, 2006

A friend of mine had her birthday party today. We were all swimming at the rec, and having fun and everything. After a while my lungs started really hurting, and I didn't have my inhaler with me, so I just clung to the edge watching everyone. That was a little boring... and I got to looking at the small ants that randomly scurried at the edge of the cement. I took turns holding each one. It was funny, each one was so different. so unique. Each panicked so differently. It was neat... Now I feel bad for all those sweet ants I've killed...
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