on thinking

18 3 4
                                    

She leaned forward, brown hair falling in front of her face—but she hardly seemed to notice it. A frown of concentration adorned her face as she squinted her eyes in thought. Twisting her mouth into a slight pout as she thought, she shifted slightly before cautiously balancing her chin in one palm.

With a soft sigh, she crossed her legs under her and hooked her hands under them, rocking herself back and forth absent-mindedly.

Completely oblivious to the fact that she was alarmingly close to pitching forward and smacking her face against the ground, she had fixed her eyes on a particular point in the distance while murmuring quietly to herself. It wasn't hard to gather that she was once again lost in the mess of chaos she had for a brain, chasing after some train of thought that would probably capture her attention for a few minutes before she moved on to the next. 

drabblesWhere stories live. Discover now