Post by dixie on May 10, 2008 23:14:41 GMT -5
Robes, some sort of radio, a new wand... Dixie looked at the crumpled paper in her hand, wishing she was able to kick herself. I still cannot believe that I forgot my wand in Ireland!, she thought, A wand is the most important thing a magical person needs and I go and forget it! In her head, she pictured her oak and leprechaun hair wand sitting on her coffee table back in her Ireland home. However, she quickly shook that thought out of her head. It still hurt when she thought about her life in Ireland, a hurt some people had told her would ease over time, but she didn't believe them. She walked on down the street, still inwardly cursing herself for her mistake.
Since she had never been to Hogsmeade before in her life, Dixie had to stop and ask for directions more than once. The first woman she asked was a sweet old lady, calling her "dearie", but she gave horribly confusing directions. The second had been a male about her age. Instead of realizing that Dixie actually wanted directions, he tried to strike up a conversation and asked her on a date. Dix walked off before he could finish his sentence very aggravated and felt almost insulted. Dixie decided to play it safe the last time she asked some one for help. She asked a young woman who offered to show her the way, rather than just telling her. She now stood in the front of a small shop, about to wander around and look at the robed displayed.
Why do I even have to wear robes anyway? Jeans and a t-shirt should be fine choice to take care of a garden and lawn in. She picked up a sleeve of a robe with a disgusted look on her face. She dropped it like it had been a dead mouse that smelled very badly. She walked around, looking at the robes, getting less and less fond of the idea of having to wear one. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a look from a woman that worked there. It was the same kind of look that Caira LaPointe had given her, scrutinizing. Dixie looked down at her wardrobe; a pair of jean, a t-shirt supporting the Weird Sisters, a jacket and a pair of brown boots. Dix couldn't find anything wrong with it, but according to the looks she had been given within the past couple of days, there was something. She shot a look at the sales woman and then turned around to go to the other side of the store, knocking over a rack of the dreadful robes in the process.
"Damn it!" She whispered to herself, "Why are you such a clutz Dixie Adams?"
Since she had never been to Hogsmeade before in her life, Dixie had to stop and ask for directions more than once. The first woman she asked was a sweet old lady, calling her "dearie", but she gave horribly confusing directions. The second had been a male about her age. Instead of realizing that Dixie actually wanted directions, he tried to strike up a conversation and asked her on a date. Dix walked off before he could finish his sentence very aggravated and felt almost insulted. Dixie decided to play it safe the last time she asked some one for help. She asked a young woman who offered to show her the way, rather than just telling her. She now stood in the front of a small shop, about to wander around and look at the robed displayed.
Why do I even have to wear robes anyway? Jeans and a t-shirt should be fine choice to take care of a garden and lawn in. She picked up a sleeve of a robe with a disgusted look on her face. She dropped it like it had been a dead mouse that smelled very badly. She walked around, looking at the robes, getting less and less fond of the idea of having to wear one. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a look from a woman that worked there. It was the same kind of look that Caira LaPointe had given her, scrutinizing. Dixie looked down at her wardrobe; a pair of jean, a t-shirt supporting the Weird Sisters, a jacket and a pair of brown boots. Dix couldn't find anything wrong with it, but according to the looks she had been given within the past couple of days, there was something. She shot a look at the sales woman and then turned around to go to the other side of the store, knocking over a rack of the dreadful robes in the process.
"Damn it!" She whispered to herself, "Why are you such a clutz Dixie Adams?"
