The girl weighed the pendant in the palm of her hand, “It’s a good imitation,” she began.
“Imitation? Of what?”
“I’d say it’s worth about $50 dollars,” the girl continued, as if the shopkeeper hadn’t interrupted. “If you’ll take that much for it, I’ll buy it.” She looked at him questioningly, yet confidently.
“I’m really confused,” the shopkeeper whined after a pause. “What the heck is going on? What’s this an imitation of, and how do you know whether it’s a good imitation or not? Why do you want it?”
The girl gave him a look that didn’t seem to mean anything, but it also seemed to mean everything he didn’t know about. It didn’t answer any of his questions. It only created more questions, although he wasn't sure what they were and why he wanted the answers.
“What’s your name?” he asked quietly, but inwardly he felt irritated. Why do I even care? She’s just some weirdo-girl that dropped into this shop like a… he searched for a simile, but couldn’t think of anything befitting of the strange girl in ripped jeans and sneakers who could tell a “good imitation” from an elusive original that he hadn’t known existed till now. Just get her out of here, he commanded himself sternly. She is going to get me in so much trouble. He knew this with amazing certainty. He wasn’t sure how, but he knew that she was trouble. “Trouble.” It would be written all over the necklace where she had left her fingerprints, and it would be written in her footprints when she walked out of the store. She had said, “After today you’ll never see me again,” but the shopkeeper had a terrifying feeling that she was wrong.
It's dramatic and freaky and confusing, I know. But for some reason, I like this cowardly shopkeeper with a bad attitude, and this weird girl in ripped jeans. I like them enough to find out more about their story. Someday. Maybe.
As for the other insignificant somethings, I bought the Complete Sherlock Holmes Vol. II for only $6 at Barnes & Noble on Saturday. I was rather pleased.
And apparently my blog's readability level is Junior High:
I'm not sure how I feel about that. I know it doesn't mean that the people who read my blog have junior-high-school minds - it just means that junior-high-school-minds could read my blog and not be left scratching their heads in confusion. Well, some confusion, perhaps (my fault, not theirs) but not utter confusion. ;)
And my Books And Windows blog is a high school reading level. Hrm... must be because of the "A Word A Day" posts I've done.
And speaking of words, my sister and I spent a few hours last night on FreeRice. Marvelous website. I started keeping track of all the best words, and filled up two pages, front and back, and half of another one. Some of the words I came across that I liked best (these are the meanings given by FreeRice. The actual dictionary definitions are most likely better):
lachrymal: tearful (Yes, I do like those moody words like "morose" and "animosity" and "melancholy" etc.)
waggery: jesting (sounds Shakespearean. There were actually several words we came across that caused me to spout off a Comedy of Errors quote. "Abject" and "upbraid" were among them. ["Thou sayest his meals were sauced with thy upbraidings..."])
munificent: generous (you can just TELL that this word means generous. Seriously.)
ineluctable: unavoidable (This is a totally unfamiliar word, but it's cool...)
dolor: grief (I only knew this because my grandparents live on a "Dolorosa" street, which means "way of sorrows," I believe)
shellback: worldly sailor (Whoah! I love this one!)
blithesome: cheery (happy word)
spindrift: sea spray
At one point Desirae and I had gotten several words right only because of The Roman Mysteries, and the Latin names and phrases in those books. And there was one word that we knew the meaning of because of Arsenic and Old Lace or the Andy Griffith Show. And some ("transubstantiate" and "genuflect") because we're Catholic. It's sort of ...homeschoolery.