Post by Helena Nicodeu on Jul 4, 2011 17:38:44 GMT -5
i need you like water, like breath, like rain
[/size][/color]I NEED YOU LIKE MERCY FROM HEAVEN'S GATES
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THERE'S A FREEDOM IN YOUR ARMS THAT CARRIES ME
through i need you, oh yes i do[/font][/size][/center]
”AND I'll stand barefooted in my own front yard with a baby on my hip
'Cause I'm a redneck woman!”
The quiet room around her seemed to vibrate with the sound of wild country music, and with a happy abandon, she sang along with it. Her voice wasn’t anything to shake a stick at, and according to her brothers, she could crack glass fifty miles away if she put her mind to it, but when Gretchen Wilson sang? A girl could do nothing but sing right along with her.
The small clinic, her pride and joy, was stuck between a fashion store and a bait’n’tackle. None of her neighbors seemed to enjoy her choice of music, and she was counting the minutes until that telltale pounding on the wall, or blast of the telephone forced her out of her bubble of enjoyment. But, until then, she was content to hop around the room, singing on the top of her lungs and laughing when she forgot the words.
Doing a little two step, she pushed an ancient vacuum cleaner along the soft rug beneath her sandaled feet, singing as she went. The plain white dress she’d chosen that morning was practically blowing in the wind spat out from the tear in the vacuum bag, and she laughed as she imagined herself as some redneck Marilyn Monroe.
Gretchen got to the highlight of the song, guitar blasting and drums rocking, and abandoning her chores, she leapt into the middle of the room to boogy it out. It was no matter that the windowed double doors that sectioned off the lobby from the treatment room where she danced, was probably giving everyone a clear view of the crazy woman dancing to an obnoxiously loud song. Or that, at any minute, a potential patient could be walking in, in search of some advice for a happy, healthy life. All that mattered was that she’d managed to pay the rent, stave off her brothers from descending onto the clinic- the loveable, protective little buggers- and stalked a particularly stubborn hunter into submission. AND, on top of that, she hadn’t killed herself yet!
…Okay, scratch that last one. Whoever put a chair in the middle of the walkway should have their butt kicked a few times.
As she danced her way toward the lobby, the sweet lemonade she’d made that morning fresh in her mind, her foot managed to find the only piece of furniture she hadn’t noticed. With a yelp and a crash, she came tumbling down onto the carpet, smacking her butt into the floor.
Ah, the joys of being absentminded. And people wondered why she didn’t normally cut loose like she had that morning.
With a sigh, Helena lay on her back with her eyes closed, listening to the last dredges of Redneck Woman, before the shop went quiet. She stared at the ceiling, counting the cracks on the top.
“Lemme guess…now that I’ve managed to dent the floor, there’s someone outside waiting to be seen,” She muttered with a little shake of her head. With a grunt, she pushed herself to her knees and proceeded pushed herself up far enough to peek through the window.
tagged?! OPEN
words?! ENOUGH
credits?! this template made by omgitsdaniDElirium@caution2.0[/font]