Snippet #1797598

Abi Kirsh

Abi dawdled. it was morning. Morning meant sleep crusted eyes and a belly filled with the smog of sleep. Her hands shook slightly as she stretched for the third time, pausing to fully arc her back. It was early yet, and the German had things to do, but not much motivation on this particular morn. She'd just finished a project and now was the time to muse and find a good place to create the next one. And to decide what to create. Of late the ideas simply hadn't flown right through her. Even when she'd found the perfect spot no images or even the faintest inkling of a perfect idea sprung to her mind. Which was rather depressing.

To the mirror it was then, rubbing her face and blinking away the sticky ugly dregs of sleep that grabbed at her eyelids and her head, weighing her down, teasing and tempting her back into sleep. But the girl resisted the allure. She leaned against the little vanity in her even small her bedroom and leaned close to the glass. She didn't look horrid, but not very good either. First was to flatten her hair and clean out her eyes. A topical check then to the shower. And back again to the beloved mirror. She paired hr face sparingly, for there wasn't need for anything heavy. Just a dab of this here and a smear of that there. And a new stud. The small diamond one perhaps? Leaning back to check her work, the red-golden girl found her handy-work acceptable. At least make-up didn't take too much inspiration. more skill and finesse than anything, really.

Then to get properly dressed in a capped-shoulder T-shirt and jeans. She grabbed a bagel and a bottle of water. It was time to hunt down a new place to paint. A jacket, something light, was pulled onto her shoulders and a smile and a sigh radiated from Abi's being as she exited her apartment. The bagel went into her pocket. She'd eat that when she was hungry, but she was too lost in her thoughts to feel hungry at the moment. why waste food when it was not needed? She walked a few blocks before deciding to break into a light jog, getting more into the rhythm of her feet and of the world around her than looking for a suitable place to paint now. Sometimes running was thought clearing. Sometimes it could open her mind for more creative images. Hopefully it would. The woman sang lightly to herself in lilting German as she jogged, too quiet for anyone else to catch the words.