work tomorrow? aw, man...
Here's another drabble. 100 words exactly this time. Perfect.
“I hate starting an essay,” Colin sighs. “The way the blank page just stares up at you.”
Ginny grunts her agreement, staring at her parchment. She reaches out suddenly and slashes her name and title across the top in abrupt, violent strokes. Then she waits, fidgeting with her quill, hardly blinking.
Virginia Weasley, the Uses of Boomslang Skin.
Nothing happens. The ink simply dries, not absorbing into the page. Her letters remain inert where she has drawn them, spelling out only what she has written.
Nobody hates blank pages more than Ginny.
Still looking vaguely suspicious, Ginny starts her essay.