A/N: Tis somethingI wrote a while back. A while back in Winter. (Its now spring/might as well be summer) And i thought it was good enough to go on FicP. Might even write another. hmm, anywho: enjoy!

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Milly awoke to the ring of her phone alarm. She groaned and pushed her head into her pillows. The phone rang five minutes later and she decided to turn her bed side lamp on. The sudden light made her turn off her phone with her eyes closed. She looked out the window. It was pitch black. If the sky was still asleep why couldn't she be? She felt she could easily sleep for another five hours but then she'd be late to school by two. She tried to remember her dreams as she stared at the ceiling but the harder she tried the less she could grasp. She decided to get up.

After showering she searched the kitchen for something mildly tempting for her tastebuds. Toast. Toast was all she wanted. She searched the freezer for some sliced bread but the only simmilarcarbrohydrate she could find was rolls. Abundance of rolls. Frozen and white. She had once before came to the conclusion that they somehow reproduced in the freezer. Hmm, mating rolls. Not the most topical issues toponder in the morning. But her seach was not for nothing. She found a suspicious looking plastic bag with three pieces of bread. She would prefer some thing less frost bitten, but it should do. She mallet-ed them into the toaster and collected the spreads. Crunchy peanut butter, Vegimite and some berry jam her mother recomended a while before.

One piece of toast was burnt to a crisp except one corner and the others were all soggy. She figured she could eat half of the burnt with half a soggy, hoping they might even each other out, but that would mean vegimite and jam . She ate the burnt and the least soggy and retreated to her study to finish her english poetry analysis.

Milly was dropped off at school in the morning. She could have walked, but her dad was home, so why not take advantage? Besides, she avoided the worst of the chilling winter rest of her day was a blurr. A blurr of art contempations,the politicalorganisation of the labour party, daffodils, a solitary reaper, odd fellow mints, a double period of maths, a repeatitive second guess about a mates actions and apolony roll. Not specifically in that order though. She walked home wishing she knew where she put her MP3, but decided to kick a limestone rock down the road on her way. She found it left a white mark on the bitumen. It gave her an idea.

She felt liberated writing Shakespeare in the middle of the road. Witty. And slightly nerdy maybe. Mind you, a car drove past and she sprinted away, leaving only half the sentance completed, "SHALL I COMPARE-" etched on the road.

"I'll finish it tomorrow. Maybe."