I sat in the terminal, talking with friends, playing with odd gadgets. I had no intention of going somewhere, anywhere. I could chat and play all day, every day. My friends would often take the train to the lovely country, Creative, but I would sit and wait for them to arrive home. They would come back, telling me I had missed so much, that if I had come I would have had so much fun. I never listened. We would start talking again and it was like they never left. Then, at the end of the day, we would would travel back to our home pages and hit the hay. This routine went on and on, and my friends seem to spend longer in Creative then usual. I used to think that maybe the train was delayed, but suddenly things became clear. My friends preferred Creative than talking with me. That hurt. I wanted to show them I could be fun. I wanted my friends back. And how was I going to do that?
I had to take risks.
My first story so, It sucks. But I enjoyed it
I had to take risks.
My first story so, It sucks. But I enjoyed it