Reese sat in her studio, hangs covered in clay. She sighed, tortured by the presence of boredom. It’d been a week since she’d last seen Alyss, and she didn’t have any one she was close to calling a friend. Sure, a couple people around town at least twice her age would pop into the studio, just to check out what kind of work was on display in her cozy, hole-in-the-wall type of gallery, but as she stared at the amorphous mass of clay in front of her, all she could think of was how much she’d rather be anywhere but stuck inside— and alone.
Alyss was just passing by Tyrese’s studio, and she happened to look up and see her in the window. She stopped and stood there. She thought for a moment, and smiled. She walked up to the door, and opened it. Walking right in. “Ohhh, Tyyyyreeeeeessee~” She half sang, half hollered the words through the house.
Shocked more by Alyss’ cheery tone than her sudden intrusion, Tyrese stood up, wiping her hands on her apron in a hurry to clean herself up. “Go home, you’re drunk!” She yelled back, half with the purpose to give away which room she was in, the other half genuinely questioning Alyss’ sobriety.
