A Cleric Loses a Phone Number
by Aster Blackwell | Score: 6250
She resorted to dumping the contents onto her coffee table. Old receipts, candy wrappers, her keys, some chapstick, and various other odds and ends spilled onto the glass surface. She started to sort through the papers.
Usually she was positive about things. As a cleric of the Sister of Discovery, it was kind of her job. Every day had something new and exciting, and she should take it all in stride and seek to find what she could learn from it. But today had been a hard enough day already, and now she had lost the only ray of sunshine she'd seen in the past 24 hours! She couldn't possibly tell him she'd lost his number, not when he handed it to her hardly an hour ago!
Gods, this would be the type of thing she would worry about. Sure, the world was torn apart by war, and there was a shortage of maple syrup because the merchants didn't dare ship it this far south, and her aromatherapist had cancelled her appointment because she'd said that "all of the smells are decidedly unhappy today", whatever that means. None of that was going to make her break down, no. It was losing the number of a really cute tiefling she saw today that would make it all boil over.
She carried a handful of receipts that were no younger than three weeks ago and dumped them into the trashcan next to her desk. She slumped into the chair and buried her head in her hands. Maybe it had fallen out? Maybe she hadn't managed to slip it into her purse at all and had just dropped it on the floor? Gods, had he SEEN that? Did he see her just drop his number right on the floor and assume it was some kind of signal that she wasn't interested!?
She felt eyes watching her and jerked her head upright. In the small mirror sitting on her desk, she saw a shadowy figure standing right behind her. She frowned.
"Not now, Fran."
The shadow dissipated. She put her head back in her hands.
Maybe she would see him again sometime and tell him about the mistake. Maybe he'd laugh about it and they'd have a whole conversation about how silly and clumsy she was and what a silly mistake and here's a replacement number, don't lose it this time!
She slumped back in her chair and twisted at one of the bangles on her wrist. No, it wasn't likely she'd ever see him again, even if she somehow could work up the courage to approach him. She was definitely doomed.
In frustration and defeat, she rammed her head into her desk and screamed. The impact sent the rickety wood rattling, and knocked off the glass of water she had haphazardly placed a little too close to the edge. She heard it crunch as it hit the ground and screamed again.
Today in her journal she would write about how she discovered she was a