sour thoughts * open

[ivan demetrius harper]

& if i was james dean &

YOU COULD BE MY AUDREY, BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY'S FOR TWO

There was a certain calming effect the Whomping Willow had on Ivan. Of course, this magnificent piece of nature had to be watched from a safe distance, but that was the beauty of such a powerful force. There were many troubles on Ivan's mind that morning, from his parents to his school work. He barely had enough time to think about the things he actually enjoyed doing. His painting and art skills were deteriorating at the present time. He felt his heart drop at the thought of having to give up his pastime for the remainder of the year. There were just too many things on his mind to keep up with the load that he had burdened himself with. The Ravenclaw shook his head a moment and continued to look upon the tree.

The branches swung fiercely, swatting at a bird. This tree was well known for thrashing it's fierce branches toward anything that moved or came into a certain distance of it. Perhaps this was why Ivan took to the tree so well. He, himself was kind of like the sad willow. He tried to distance himself from people as much as he could, and yet wanted to be a social butterfly like the very few friends that he did have. A faint smile flickered across the boy's somber features. It was time that he made friends who were introverts like himself. He was shy, but loved to be around people. He got women on their knees begging for dates with him with just a flashy smile, yet retreated the moment he accepted an offer. Some things couldn't be changed with Ivan and he was quite content with the way he was.

Ivan ran a hand through his glossy brown hair as chocolate eyes scanned the perimeter. There seemed to be no signs of life other than the ones being crushed by a large tree. As much as Ivan loved solitude, he longed for a little company. As these thoughts rolled through his mind, a little blue bird decided to fly up to him and land on his shoulder. He smiled and whistled a small tune in order to keep the small creature's attention. The bird began to sing back in three octaves higher. This brought a large grin to the male's face as he continued to sign to the bird. Shortly, the whistles and hums became words and soon lyrics were formed. He and the bird sang in harmony, a little off key at times of course.

429. OPEN. SHORT BUT TO THE POINT.
© MARZIA AT CAUTION