Post by Sage Lambert on Jun 23, 2006 11:42:27 GMT -5
Sage Lambert had always been a morning person, and it didn’t look like that would ever change, weekend or no. Even on a Saturday morning she was up at half seven on the dot, and was usually ready by eight, half eight if she took a shower. This Saturday was no different, and Sage was up and dressed just as her father stumbled out of bed. Opening her pencil tin, intent on doing some drawing, she saw with a small curse of annoyance that all of her pencils had been reduced to the smallest of stubs.
So, that meant a trip down to Barnes and Noble, where Sage was currently on a quest to find her usual brand of pencils. A brand that was proving to be quite elusive at that moment in time. Sage stood with her hands on her hips, fiery hair falling in soft waves down to the small of her back. The girl was wearing a pair of faded denim jeans, purchased from Gap. Jillian had talked her in to going, and she did have to admit she quite liked some of their items. Accompanying her jeans was a simple white tee-shirt, with Lonsdale printed across the chest in baby pink. All in all, Sage was in very casual dress, right down to the simple white trainers on her size 8 feet.
Making an annoyed clicking sound with her tongue, Sage dropped down to her haunches, studying the bottom shelf attentively. “Finally!” She muttered, pulling a tin from the very back of the shelf. “Honestly, how hard do they have to make it to find a tin of pencils…?” She fumed, standing up erect and smoothing out her attire. Looking over to the tills, Sage paused momentarily to study some of the biographies, eyes lingering over one on John F. Kennedy. Jillian could ramble for hours about her ancestry, and it was an interesting conversation nine times out of ten.
The question standing was: even if she bought the book, would she bother reading it?
So, that meant a trip down to Barnes and Noble, where Sage was currently on a quest to find her usual brand of pencils. A brand that was proving to be quite elusive at that moment in time. Sage stood with her hands on her hips, fiery hair falling in soft waves down to the small of her back. The girl was wearing a pair of faded denim jeans, purchased from Gap. Jillian had talked her in to going, and she did have to admit she quite liked some of their items. Accompanying her jeans was a simple white tee-shirt, with Lonsdale printed across the chest in baby pink. All in all, Sage was in very casual dress, right down to the simple white trainers on her size 8 feet.
Making an annoyed clicking sound with her tongue, Sage dropped down to her haunches, studying the bottom shelf attentively. “Finally!” She muttered, pulling a tin from the very back of the shelf. “Honestly, how hard do they have to make it to find a tin of pencils…?” She fumed, standing up erect and smoothing out her attire. Looking over to the tills, Sage paused momentarily to study some of the biographies, eyes lingering over one on John F. Kennedy. Jillian could ramble for hours about her ancestry, and it was an interesting conversation nine times out of ten.
The question standing was: even if she bought the book, would she bother reading it?
