I rubbed by eyes and yawned. Midnight with struck soon and heat of the summer day didn't cool yet. I was sitting at the desk, trying to work for serveral hours but something kept bugging me.
Went to the kitchen to get some lemonade. Immediately downed half the pitcher. I turned and gazed at appartment door.
Yea, that was it. She usually returns by midnight, and now she is late. I admit, it was selfish of me to first think how I lost time fidgeting and waiting. Then I whined how without her it will be yet another day sine linea. Then I got mean muttering, wher is that bitch, is she aware what she's doing to me with being this late? Then I plucked at my moustache and scolded myself.
Who knows what happened to her. What do you mean, what can happen to a story? Well, she could go and never come back. She could be kidnapped and turned into a commercial.
I leaned against the fridge door and sobbed.
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