intraspective: (over the shoulder grin)
[personal profile] intraspective
The door to Room 504 was open, while the occupant was flat on her back on the floor, feet propped up on her bed, and idly tossing a pen into the air—spin, spin, catch, toss, spin, spin, catch, and repeat—as she talked on the phone.

"—mutant alligators, Dad. No, I’m not kidding, yes they spit goldfish that tried to eat you—what? Pictures?"

Up and then down went the pen again as she listened.

"I mean, I guess? Maybe—I didn’t take any, I was busy, that’s why I need more explosive notes—I could always ask around, if you really need them but, like, my memory probably has them a lot clearer." Another toss. "Uh huh, exactly, don’t you think—no, it shouldn’t. I mean, I know what I’m allowed and not—but Sakura wants to—yes, Dad, so do I, okay? Okay." She absently tugged at her hair as her dad spoke. "Right. You’ve got my address for mailing? Mom’s got it, if you’ve lost it—no I’m not making fun of your age, did you want me to?--Dad!"

Ino blinked. "—you’ll think about it? Really?--Yes, I want to learn, I just thought—noooo, okay. Alright, take care.—Love you too, Dad. Bye."

Huuh.

[Oooopen door, open post, feel free to have heard however little or much of the telephone conversation as you want.]

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Yamanaka Ino

April 2019

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