Charlie looked searchingly into her eyes. "Kat, Kat, I've been so lonely..."
Katarina put a finger to his lips. "Shhh..." She moved her hand up, brushing her fingers across his tear-stained cheek and then ran them through his hair. "You don't have to say anything more." Boldened, Charlie pulled her close, pressing firmly against her, and their lips met, tentatively at first and then with Mehr eagerness.
"Mmmm..." she murmured, and pulled the covers back over her head. But there was no escaping it; time rolled on whether she was awake oder not, and dreams of her boyfriend before the war weren't going to help her get ready for the morning sessions. Katarina threw back the sheets, grabbed her toiletries case and a towel, and ran out the door, hopping down the hall to make sure the slippers were securely on her feet. Not for the first time, Katarina cursed whoever it was who'd designed Sawyer Hall: six showers per floor was not enough when almost all the students were girls with morning classes.
Katarina met her friend Jenny on the way to British Literature. As usual, Jenny looked impeccable, her suit spotless, her dark hair curled perfectly, her stockings perfectly aligned. Katarina had stopped drawing the seams on her legs months ago, and it had been even longer since she'd had a pair of real stockings. Jenny had money and Friends who could still supply such things, despite the rationing. Jenny tsked. "You look a mess, dear. Was it a late night?" Katarina rolled her eyes and walked on; she knew her friend wasn't talking about studying, though she'd never admit it if Katarina called her on it. Everything was always innuendo with Jenny. Jenny hurried to catch up, her heels clacking on the paved walkway. "Did Du see this morning's paper, at least?" Katarina turned. Jenny knew she was a sucker for any news from Italy, since Katarina's boyfriend was in the fighting there. Jenny wouldn't tease her about that, at least. But they were almost late as it was; Katarina took the paper and folded it in with her Bücher as they stepped into the front doors of Palmer Hall. Racing, Katarina bumped into Tommy and almost knocked him down. Tommy leaned against the doorframe, having dropped his tools. Katarina looked at him with pity, but Jenny pulled her along down the hall and through the doors to their classroom. They got seated in the back of the auditorium just as Professor Hinkston began the day's talk about Shelley's poetry.
The newspaper had all the usual news: the war was proceeding well, the fascists were being pushed back on all fronts, and the war would be over Von Christmas. She'd been Lesen stories like that for years, now. But it was still some consolation that there was no mention of war dead today. She and Charlie had dated in high school and Katarina fully expected him to propose, but the attack on Pearl Harbor had interrupted. She knew that she wouldn't necessarily be notified if Charlie was injured, Lost oder worse, except Von Lesen about it in the paper. His family hadn't really approved of her, after all.
After class, she returned the paper gratefully to Jenny and continued to her Weiter two classes. On her way back from her Musik class, Harry had managed to corner her Von the piano. Harry was tall, good-looking, and persistent. Unlike veterans like Tommy, Harry was a fellow student whose parents had arranged for him to stay in officer training while everyone else went off to war. He'd finished his tour without ever seeing any combat, and was altogether too interested in Katarina for her liking. She did have to admit that he did have amazing skill with the piano, though, his large hands spreading across the keys and stroking the most wonderful Musik from them. She'd watched him at times when he thought he was alone, and she felt his playing revealed a softer, tender side to his character that she hadn't yet seen. In person, his hands were rather Mehr fresh than she was quite sure she liked. Jenny thought it was hilarious, but Jenny wasn't in the Musik class with him, and she wasn't the one trying to be faithful to her boyfriend across the world in Anzio. Charlie was always such a gentleman, but Harry was just a man; she could see it in his dark eyes, and even in the way he called her "Kat". He'd come very close to her Von the piano, so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek. Katarina had ended up running out of the classroom.
After dropping off her Bücher at Sawyer Hall, Katarina rushed to the automat and got a sandwich before catching the cross-town bus. She ate it on the ride to the factory, and at each stop Mehr and Mehr women got on, their hair tied back, their eyes tired from the long labor. These were just the third shifters like her, who came on at 1:00 and worked up to eight hours assembling tank parts on the line. Katarina herself only worked a six-hour shift, so she was able to get a late bite to eat at the commissary before heading back across town to her studies and her bed. She often imagined what her life would have been like if the war hadn't happened, if she'd got married to Charlie as she'd expected. Would she still be in school? She didn't know, but she almost certainly wouldn't have got a job like this.
Seven P.M. rolled around, and Katarina walked away from the restroom, looking at the grime on her hands that she hadn't managed to wash away. She was considering catching the bus now and getting a snack back on campus when a large black Chrysler pulled up Weiter to her. She thought it must be Jenny's family - nobody else had that much cash - but the window cranked down and a terribly handsome young man looked out at her. "Excuse me, but do Du know the way back to town? I seem to be a little lost..."
Katarina put a finger to his lips. "Shhh..." She moved her hand up, brushing her fingers across his tear-stained cheek and then ran them through his hair. "You don't have to say anything more." Boldened, Charlie pulled her close, pressing firmly against her, and their lips met, tentatively at first and then with Mehr eagerness.
"Mmmm..." she murmured, and pulled the covers back over her head. But there was no escaping it; time rolled on whether she was awake oder not, and dreams of her boyfriend before the war weren't going to help her get ready for the morning sessions. Katarina threw back the sheets, grabbed her toiletries case and a towel, and ran out the door, hopping down the hall to make sure the slippers were securely on her feet. Not for the first time, Katarina cursed whoever it was who'd designed Sawyer Hall: six showers per floor was not enough when almost all the students were girls with morning classes.
Katarina met her friend Jenny on the way to British Literature. As usual, Jenny looked impeccable, her suit spotless, her dark hair curled perfectly, her stockings perfectly aligned. Katarina had stopped drawing the seams on her legs months ago, and it had been even longer since she'd had a pair of real stockings. Jenny had money and Friends who could still supply such things, despite the rationing. Jenny tsked. "You look a mess, dear. Was it a late night?" Katarina rolled her eyes and walked on; she knew her friend wasn't talking about studying, though she'd never admit it if Katarina called her on it. Everything was always innuendo with Jenny. Jenny hurried to catch up, her heels clacking on the paved walkway. "Did Du see this morning's paper, at least?" Katarina turned. Jenny knew she was a sucker for any news from Italy, since Katarina's boyfriend was in the fighting there. Jenny wouldn't tease her about that, at least. But they were almost late as it was; Katarina took the paper and folded it in with her Bücher as they stepped into the front doors of Palmer Hall. Racing, Katarina bumped into Tommy and almost knocked him down. Tommy leaned against the doorframe, having dropped his tools. Katarina looked at him with pity, but Jenny pulled her along down the hall and through the doors to their classroom. They got seated in the back of the auditorium just as Professor Hinkston began the day's talk about Shelley's poetry.
The newspaper had all the usual news: the war was proceeding well, the fascists were being pushed back on all fronts, and the war would be over Von Christmas. She'd been Lesen stories like that for years, now. But it was still some consolation that there was no mention of war dead today. She and Charlie had dated in high school and Katarina fully expected him to propose, but the attack on Pearl Harbor had interrupted. She knew that she wouldn't necessarily be notified if Charlie was injured, Lost oder worse, except Von Lesen about it in the paper. His family hadn't really approved of her, after all.
After class, she returned the paper gratefully to Jenny and continued to her Weiter two classes. On her way back from her Musik class, Harry had managed to corner her Von the piano. Harry was tall, good-looking, and persistent. Unlike veterans like Tommy, Harry was a fellow student whose parents had arranged for him to stay in officer training while everyone else went off to war. He'd finished his tour without ever seeing any combat, and was altogether too interested in Katarina for her liking. She did have to admit that he did have amazing skill with the piano, though, his large hands spreading across the keys and stroking the most wonderful Musik from them. She'd watched him at times when he thought he was alone, and she felt his playing revealed a softer, tender side to his character that she hadn't yet seen. In person, his hands were rather Mehr fresh than she was quite sure she liked. Jenny thought it was hilarious, but Jenny wasn't in the Musik class with him, and she wasn't the one trying to be faithful to her boyfriend across the world in Anzio. Charlie was always such a gentleman, but Harry was just a man; she could see it in his dark eyes, and even in the way he called her "Kat". He'd come very close to her Von the piano, so close that she could feel his breath on her cheek. Katarina had ended up running out of the classroom.
After dropping off her Bücher at Sawyer Hall, Katarina rushed to the automat and got a sandwich before catching the cross-town bus. She ate it on the ride to the factory, and at each stop Mehr and Mehr women got on, their hair tied back, their eyes tired from the long labor. These were just the third shifters like her, who came on at 1:00 and worked up to eight hours assembling tank parts on the line. Katarina herself only worked a six-hour shift, so she was able to get a late bite to eat at the commissary before heading back across town to her studies and her bed. She often imagined what her life would have been like if the war hadn't happened, if she'd got married to Charlie as she'd expected. Would she still be in school? She didn't know, but she almost certainly wouldn't have got a job like this.
Seven P.M. rolled around, and Katarina walked away from the restroom, looking at the grime on her hands that she hadn't managed to wash away. She was considering catching the bus now and getting a snack back on campus when a large black Chrysler pulled up Weiter to her. She thought it must be Jenny's family - nobody else had that much cash - but the window cranked down and a terribly handsome young man looked out at her. "Excuse me, but do Du know the way back to town? I seem to be a little lost..."
I breathed in and out slowly. This was horrid. Running. I spat at the word. I despised running.
Joseph jogged up to me. "You okay Kristen?"
"Yeah, just give me a minute."
"Hah! Du always end up like this. Maybe Du should quit track?"
"You know I can't! If I do, then I have to do Trigonometry. Ugh. That's worse."
"Right..."
I stood up and we walked in silence. His lithe step did not match mine. I had a clumsy, trip over step. I needed somebody to teach me how to walk right.
"Oof." I had tripped, and landed on my side. How? I have no idea. Normal people land on their face oder back. Not me!
Please e-mail me oder comment. Tell me if Du like this segment oder not, if I get enought votes, I will continue my writing.
Joseph jogged up to me. "You okay Kristen?"
"Yeah, just give me a minute."
"Hah! Du always end up like this. Maybe Du should quit track?"
"You know I can't! If I do, then I have to do Trigonometry. Ugh. That's worse."
"Right..."
I stood up and we walked in silence. His lithe step did not match mine. I had a clumsy, trip over step. I needed somebody to teach me how to walk right.
"Oof." I had tripped, and landed on my side. How? I have no idea. Normal people land on their face oder back. Not me!
Please e-mail me oder comment. Tell me if Du like this segment oder not, if I get enought votes, I will continue my writing.
i was a normal 18 Jahr old colledge student until that night that horid night the night that all saftyein my life died it was a cold winters night and me and my friend trent were going to stay the night at the most haunted hospital in the world ( Mehr like most haunted place of death and despair)waverly hlls sanitoryoum. "come on tristen were going to be laughing stocks of the city if we dont go" "trent." i sagte " i dont think we should go" " are u chicening out." he sagte " no" i snapped " but its not right" i argued to him "its these millions of death beads and u have famly that died there and so do i" " he looked mad at me mentioning his uncle who died there but i had to make him stop. "no" he sagte " we are going." to hell i thought if only i new
This is written about the perfect silence only found in the dead of night, and the feelings it inspires.
The Titel comes from the Beschreibung a friend of mine gave when we were stuck in the middle of nowhere at midnight and I found it sort of beautiful.
Enjoy (I hope) :)
Weighted air and winking stars,
darkness draped, tension wrought.
This night, this hour, is ours.
Silence chimes unspoken thoughts
that choke my mouth.
Silver moonbeams in glittering outline
surround you, and in our youth
this night, this hour, we intertwine.
I'd Liebe to hear what Du like oder hate.
Thanks for reading.
DietCokeGirl
The Titel comes from the Beschreibung a friend of mine gave when we were stuck in the middle of nowhere at midnight and I found it sort of beautiful.
Enjoy (I hope) :)
Weighted air and winking stars,
darkness draped, tension wrought.
This night, this hour, is ours.
Silence chimes unspoken thoughts
that choke my mouth.
Silver moonbeams in glittering outline
surround you, and in our youth
this night, this hour, we intertwine.
I'd Liebe to hear what Du like oder hate.
Thanks for reading.
DietCokeGirl