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Author has written 6 stories for Kids, Life, and Biography.
I'm sitting at my computer, typing away, when I hear someone approach. I don't look up because I don't recognise the footsteps. I carry on typing until I hear you speak.
"Hi," You say. I look up to see a complete stranger.
"Oh, hi," I'm a bit confused to who you are, and why you are talking to me. "Um, who are you? And... what are you doing here?"
You reply; "I'm a random person from that has found their way onto your profile page. I'm here because you PM-ed me/you reviewed me/I have read one of your stories/I'm your long lost cousin/I am an hacker and I'm trying to hack into your Fiction-Press account so I can kill off all your characters MWAAA HA-HA-HAH!,"
"NOOO! DON'T KILL MY CHARACTERS!" I scream, jumping up from my chair and running at you.
You look petrified. I get bored of being furious and sit down cross-legged. You sit down too, but about two meters away.
"What do you want, anyhoo?" I ask.
You still look a little scared, and you answer timidly. "I just wanna know a little more about you,"
I sit there thinking, then tell you; "I'm Lucy. I'm 14 years old. I live in Devon, England. It always rains here, but I love it. I've been writing since I was 7, and have wanted to be a writer for longer than that. I have only finished one story- It's on here, its 'The Mysterious Phone Call'. I am mad-"
You interrupt. "I kinda guessed that when you ran at me, screeching like a lunatic."
I glare at you for interrupting. I hate it when people interrupt me. "I am a lunatic too. I have mood swings that could kill a cat-"
You interrupt AGAIN. "I kinda guessed that when you stopped screeching like a lunatic and sat down like an innocent child."
I turn my glare up to the 'HIGH' setting. "-and I hate people interrupting me,"
You smile ruefully.
I ask politely, "Anything else you wanna know before I go back to my computer?"
You look a little scared again. "Favorite book?"
I make a face. "Can I pass?"
"No!" You retort tersely.
I wrinkle my nose. "Okay. Um. Inkdeath, Jango, Airman, The Wingless Boy, Holes, The Lord Of The Rings, and... um... oh, I nearly forgot: Elsewhere!"
You sigh, exasperatedly. "Favourite BOOK! Singular! One!"
I stubbonly cross my arms. I lift my chin up so my nose is in the air. "Can I go back to the computer, or do you have any other questions?"
"Only about a hundred and one..." You say sarcasticly.
I put my head in my hands. "Fire away."
"Favorite things?" You ask.
"Colour: blue. Animal: Swift. Genre: Fantasy. Food: Tomarto soup. Author: Cornelia Funke. Anything else?"
"Okay! Last one! If I read and review one of my stories, will you return the favour?"
I smile. "I will. Although I'm not gonna lie and tell you your story is wonderful if I hate it!"
You grin, too. "Deal."
I stand up, and you copy me. "Nice meeting ya," I say and turn back to my pc.
"You too." I hear you say. Then your retreating footsteps. When I finish my paragraph and look up,
I am alone.
My stories are protected by Creative Commons.