Post by Hakki, Anastazja Omorose on Oct 7, 2017 11:30:13 GMT -6
[attr="class","crazyforthisgirl1"]"speech"/'thoughts'
The temperature of the back warehouse was scorching. Different pieces if furniture and décor were stacked in a multitude of piles along the walls, waiting to be touched up and displayed in the showroom to be put on sale. In the center of the warehouse stood a row of three work tables. Above one of the tables hung a metal contraption that held minerals that were being molded by a flame expelled from a pair of olive skinned hands. Holland worked her callous, but feminine instruments in such an intimate manner as she sculpted the glass table top, with the wild dancing flames contorting the material at it's end. She was an artist with passion in her gift of manipulating the element of fire, because it was one of the very few things she had complete control in. The untamed flames were always obedient to every hand gesture and command.
Lost in her creation, Holland was oblivious to her father, Edward, who was cursing and making a scene as he walked through the warehouse door from the showroom, waving his hands up and down with one clasping the other. "Bloody hell, Holland Louise; you have been at this for hours! I think that it is time to finish and close up shop. The bloody knob is just about to melt off the door."
Holland paid no mind to her father, for she was in another world that was torched with colors of different shades of blue. Edward shook his head and huffed, "My God, Daughter." Holland slowly retracted her hands from the her work and the flames extinguished. She turned to her father and tilted her soot covered face, confused at the aggravated stare her father shot at her. Her dark chocolate colored hair that was knotted in a messy bun shifted with the tilt of her perfectly sculpted head.
"You need to be more cognizant of your surroundings; we have been over this, Holland," her father scolded.
He turned and started back to the door as he instructed, "Wrap it up in here and make sure you lock up the shop behind me. See you at home and for Christ's sake, be vigilant!"
Holland obediently nodded and gave an apologetic smile. Edward then grabbed the knob once again and let out a loud, painful shout followed by a few choice words, grasped his already blistered hand and flashed a scolding glare at his daughter, then barged out of the warehouse.
Holland's slight smile broadened as her dad stormed out. She shook her head shamefully and let out a quiet chuckle once she heard the bell over the store door ring as her father exited the building., She was amused at the fact that her father hadn't learned his lesson about opening to door to the warehouse bare-handed. He always seemed to forget to put on the oven mitt that Holland's mother hung right on the side of the door frame. Returning her gaze to her glasswork, Holland tilted her head as her golden orbs outlined in a purple ring reviewed the cooling material from behind plastic work goggles. "Perfect," she quietly confirmed.
The temperature of the back warehouse was scorching. Different pieces if furniture and décor were stacked in a multitude of piles along the walls, waiting to be touched up and displayed in the showroom to be put on sale. In the center of the warehouse stood a row of three work tables. Above one of the tables hung a metal contraption that held minerals that were being molded by a flame expelled from a pair of olive skinned hands. Holland worked her callous, but feminine instruments in such an intimate manner as she sculpted the glass table top, with the wild dancing flames contorting the material at it's end. She was an artist with passion in her gift of manipulating the element of fire, because it was one of the very few things she had complete control in. The untamed flames were always obedient to every hand gesture and command.
Lost in her creation, Holland was oblivious to her father, Edward, who was cursing and making a scene as he walked through the warehouse door from the showroom, waving his hands up and down with one clasping the other. "Bloody hell, Holland Louise; you have been at this for hours! I think that it is time to finish and close up shop. The bloody knob is just about to melt off the door."
Holland paid no mind to her father, for she was in another world that was torched with colors of different shades of blue. Edward shook his head and huffed, "My God, Daughter." Holland slowly retracted her hands from the her work and the flames extinguished. She turned to her father and tilted her soot covered face, confused at the aggravated stare her father shot at her. Her dark chocolate colored hair that was knotted in a messy bun shifted with the tilt of her perfectly sculpted head.
"You need to be more cognizant of your surroundings; we have been over this, Holland," her father scolded.
He turned and started back to the door as he instructed, "Wrap it up in here and make sure you lock up the shop behind me. See you at home and for Christ's sake, be vigilant!"
Holland obediently nodded and gave an apologetic smile. Edward then grabbed the knob once again and let out a loud, painful shout followed by a few choice words, grasped his already blistered hand and flashed a scolding glare at his daughter, then barged out of the warehouse.
Holland's slight smile broadened as her dad stormed out. She shook her head shamefully and let out a quiet chuckle once she heard the bell over the store door ring as her father exited the building., She was amused at the fact that her father hadn't learned his lesson about opening to door to the warehouse bare-handed. He always seemed to forget to put on the oven mitt that Holland's mother hung right on the side of the door frame. Returning her gaze to her glasswork, Holland tilted her head as her golden orbs outlined in a purple ring reviewed the cooling material from behind plastic work goggles. "Perfect," she quietly confirmed.
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