Post by Lee on Jul 5, 2006 16:28:54 GMT -5
Kristopher was waiting for the day to come when Professor Revil would be giving out starter pokemon-However, the day wasn't here yet, and he had nothing to do, now that his father was home. Sure, he still made meals but at six in the evening, with supper just finished, there was no more need to make meals for the day.
He was resting on the front steps to his house, his chin in his hands, elbows propped on his knees as he sat cross-legged. His expression was that of the most bored person alive, as he blankly stared across the street at a house. There wasn't anything interesting about the house, he only stared at it because it was in his line of gaze.
His mind drifted off the dullness of his life, and into dreams of what he could do with a pokemon. There would be no more sitting on the front steps of a small house, in a small town, where anyone your age was at home, or busy, or off with pokemon. No, he could see different things than an oddly painted walkway made of stones to the dusty path outside his fenced in yard, and there would always be something to do, even if it was only talking to his pokemon.
Kristopher blinked his vision back into view, the happy dream receding into the dim darkness in the back of his head where all dreams went to be forgotten, as a flock of spearow flew overhead, calling out rauciously. They were gone, out of sight, quickly, but their disturbance had been great enough to make him forget his dream and he sighed, returning to the dullness of staring at the house across the street.
He was resting on the front steps to his house, his chin in his hands, elbows propped on his knees as he sat cross-legged. His expression was that of the most bored person alive, as he blankly stared across the street at a house. There wasn't anything interesting about the house, he only stared at it because it was in his line of gaze.
His mind drifted off the dullness of his life, and into dreams of what he could do with a pokemon. There would be no more sitting on the front steps of a small house, in a small town, where anyone your age was at home, or busy, or off with pokemon. No, he could see different things than an oddly painted walkway made of stones to the dusty path outside his fenced in yard, and there would always be something to do, even if it was only talking to his pokemon.
Kristopher blinked his vision back into view, the happy dream receding into the dim darkness in the back of his head where all dreams went to be forgotten, as a flock of spearow flew overhead, calling out rauciously. They were gone, out of sight, quickly, but their disturbance had been great enough to make him forget his dream and he sighed, returning to the dullness of staring at the house across the street.