Tiny Turtle
¯\_( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)ง-]—- ᴇɴ ɢᴀʀᴅᴇ
Pearl gives Micah a look that she knows he can't see. It's not a bad look, simply one of amusement and a little bit of shock. It's not something Pearl normally experiences, being called ridiculous. Pearl likes to consider herself someone who holds herself too high up for such words like ridiculous, although clearly she doesn't. As she contemplates this Pearl remembers the newspapers. She supposes that she does in fact look quite ridiculous. So Pearl does what anyone does. She starts to giggle, which slowly turns into her rare full and powerful laugh, high pitched enough to be distinctly female, but not so much so that it's nasally. Her shoulders shake slightly as she laughs, her nose scrunches up and her eyes water a little. She knows she must look a little delirious now, but the whole situation has suddenly become hysterical to her. She's in a car during the day with a witch who wants to crash a ghost's layer, and she's covered in newspaper with only little eyeholes. She must look like a school project! This only makes Pearl's smile grow as she laughs, leaning her head back and letting herself ride it out.
"Yes. I suppose I do." she finally says still giggling.
Pearl takes a moment to compose herself, a smile still on her face. She enjoys the movement of the car and listens quietly to Micah speak.
"Stick is good to drive. I hear that in South America that's all the rental cars have. Stick." Pearl says, scrunching her nose at the thought of his father.
She really didn't like the man, and is quite glad he's gone. She supposes though that everyone has to have contributed at least one good thing into someone else's life, and if that was stick shift then so be it.
"I only learned to drive in the seventies." Pearl says quite suddenly, her head drifting off into the past, one where hippies roamed Hickory Grove and the sticky sweet smell of weed was quite strong in her shop, Pearl never minded the smell, though she is glad it's gone.
"Yes. I suppose I do." she finally says still giggling.
Pearl takes a moment to compose herself, a smile still on her face. She enjoys the movement of the car and listens quietly to Micah speak.
"Stick is good to drive. I hear that in South America that's all the rental cars have. Stick." Pearl says, scrunching her nose at the thought of his father.
She really didn't like the man, and is quite glad he's gone. She supposes though that everyone has to have contributed at least one good thing into someone else's life, and if that was stick shift then so be it.
"I only learned to drive in the seventies." Pearl says quite suddenly, her head drifting off into the past, one where hippies roamed Hickory Grove and the sticky sweet smell of weed was quite strong in her shop, Pearl never minded the smell, though she is glad it's gone.
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