read
write
members
about
account

 

datedatememberrandomsearch

September 8, 2007
She’s not sure how she made it home, but she’s here. The click of the deadbolt takes her pulse down a few beats. She’s so tempted to slump to the floor that the carpet looks like a featherbed, impossibly soft and luxurious. The ninja looks longingly at the orange fibres and reminds herself that it’s not soft. She reminds herself, immediately after, that she has supplies and bandages in the next room.

She staggers into the bathroom and pulls her first-aid supply box from under the sink. Rifles through it for the proper supplies and pulls her shirt painfully off.