Thawed (Day Two, 2327 Words)

03 Nov 2010 No Comments

by Nikkiin writing Tags: , ,

Today was a terrible day for writing.  And… yeah, that’s about it.  I mean, really, all I’m about to do is c+v over 450 words – lame, no?

Technically I wrote more than that, but that was adding in details to what I wrote yesterday.  And even that didn’t go well.

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After wolfing down two large bowls of chicken noodle soup, Kate leaned back in the battered wooden chair and daintily wiped the soup from around her mouth. Luke looked on in amusement and horror — he would never have suspected that the diminutive woman would be able to pack away that much of his food supply. A smirk covered his face as Kate batted her hair, now stained and dripping from the soup, out of her eyes again. A frusturated growl formed low in her throat and she swung her head violently towards Luke, her hair once again whipping her in the face.

Snarling, she pushed it back again and held it back with one hand. “Do you have any scissors?” Kate asked. “I cannot abide this any longer!”

Luke raised an eyebrow. “Scissors? We’re being that drastic? I’m pretty sure I could find a hair tie in here somewhere.”

Kate glanced scornfully around the small kitchen. It was, to put it lightly, a complete and utter disaster. Dirty dishes were overflowing from the sink and beginning to be stacked on the counter, garbage was tied into black bags awaiting disposal and coffee mugs were covering every surface. And that was just the normal kitchen type items – Luke’s kitchen also was littered with knick knacks, junk and other such detritus that builds up when a person lives somewhere for any length of time.

“I am certain that you could find a hair tie,” Kate said calmly. “But I doubt that you could find one in any reasonable amount of time.”

“I’m purty sure that the time taken to find scissors would be the same as it would take to find you a hair tie,” Luke pointed out, eyeing Kate’s pale blonde locks.

“Hair tie or no hair tie – I need to lose several feet of hair,” Kate snorted, disgusted. “I will have you know that sitting on one’s hair is rather uncomfortable.”

“Fine, fine!” Luke said, digging through one of his many junk drawers with his back to Kate. “I don’t think I even have scissors. Not much call for them on an allegedly paper free ship.”

Kate tapped her foot impatiently and cursed as more of her hair escaped her grasp and fell back into the soup bowl. “On second thought,” she said, “Just pass me that paring knife.”

Luke, with his back still to Kate, rolled his eyes. This was unlikely to end well. Nevertheless, he held out the knife and watched, with the fascination of a person watching two shuttles collide in mid air, as Kate pulled her hair back and began sawing furiously. Clumps of blonde hair started drifting down and the hack job was done in under a minute.

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