Somebody was supposed to attend her friend’s birthday party, somebody wore a dress and even- wonder of wonders!- slapped makeup on her face before taking a thousand selfies.
Somebody got an idea for a story just before leaving the house and decided to write the skeleton of the story before going out. She sat on her bed with a laptop and began to write, she cued Earl Klugh and his plaintive guitar riffs rocked the room and she exchanged the white gown for an old loose top that wouldn’t wrinkle as she tucked her legs under her torso. Her makeup was still largely intact.
She soon began to dream as she wrote, she knew it was the effect of Earl Klugh and a massive sleep debt. Because she rarely slept in the afternoon, she put the laptop aside and stretched her full length on the bed, knowing that she would be back to her writing in ten minutes or less…
Franklin Edward’s To ba lejo woke her up this morning at 05:00hrs. Somebody is officially putting up herself for sale, human being that would rather sleep than go for party… Is that one person again?