Z SoccerChic9: Titleless
Friday, July 23, 2004
She was crazy they said. More like muttered under their breath when ever they passed her in the hallways. She stuck out somedays, like a thistle in a perfectly manicured garden; and they didn't like it. No, there was a way things were suppose to be done. Unspoken rules that were not made to be broken. Yet, somehow, she managed to break all of them and not in small ways, but rather in flagrent flares that lit the building.

The thing that bothered them most, was she didn't seem to care. She trapised through the place five days a week, taking note of the landscape. Yet, despite her careful consideration of that around her, she seemed to always miss the blatant signs. Signs that stood for rules, stark against passing faces. As old as the building itself.

She was a blast of fresh air in an old building that was over grown with cobwebs, and they couldn't decide what was worse. Her crazy new ideas for progression and change, or her fashion.

It came to a climax one Friday afternoon. Rumours of something having to be done, spread the air were the ladies chattered together near the water fountain. "This is utterly despictable" they wailed. There was no way this could go on. The horror of it, she had actually suggested that they install a computer program for the entire building, and an entire new wing for an art center. What was this world coming to? "Why any day now you would walk in and the enitre building would be run by robots" stated Ms. Pearson, and the ladies gasped in horror at the thought.
 
This template is called "Living the Dream", a modification of "The Light : The Sound". (c) 2005 Daniel Josph Xhan. Use and modify at your own discretion.