Maud is...

by Lack of Tact


The next day, whispers began to spread. Of Maud's... particularities. Of, more importantly, her fascination with rocks. She, however, did not care. Everyone is unique, everyone has their quirks. Everyone will die. It's simply fact and she will not allow childish rumours to deter her from her goal.

Whatever that goal is. She hasn't really told anyone, honestly. Sans her sister, but that's obvious. However, there is another person she'd contemplate telling. The boy from yesterday. She'd remembered the note he'd so brazenly delivered to her. While she did not read it until after Boulder was done napping, she'd enjoyed the senseless ramblings of the boy. He talked of his likes, dislikes, dreams and hopes. He talked of her, how she carried herself. Wanting to know her hopes for the future.

She remembered she'd thought it nice of him.

And so, she began writing her own note. In response to his. By the end, it was the most poetic thing she could put into words. Just for him.

I like rocks.

And he thought it nice of her, too.

Boulder, however, did not. But as he is just a rock, he could do nothing.