Memories of the Wind.
Thursday, September 06, 2007
I hate liars.
I picked a fight with my aunt again.
It was not a battle of the century, but it was a moment to be forgotten.
She was angry that I never eat the breakfast that she bought though I was running late for class today. Furthermore, she grumbled that she has mopped the floor and that I will not lift a finger to help her so it does not matter. That ignited my engine and slowly got me revving. I always wiped the floor till a point of merciless efficiency often but I was simply too busy to bother with such time consuming and seemingly unimportant matters this week.
She even accused of splurging my mum's money. That was the last straw.
I hate liars.
And I burst into flames of rapid fire.
It was not a battle of the century, but it was a moment to be forgotten.
She was angry that I never eat the breakfast that she bought though I was running late for class today. Furthermore, she grumbled that she has mopped the floor and that I will not lift a finger to help her so it does not matter. That ignited my engine and slowly got me revving. I always wiped the floor till a point of merciless efficiency often but I was simply too busy to bother with such time consuming and seemingly unimportant matters this week.
She even accused of splurging my mum's money. That was the last straw.
I hate liars.
And I burst into flames of rapid fire.
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