Strokes
“If you don’t knock off the racket, I’ll come up there and shove your brushes down your throat!” Honestly, how can one artist, an easel and some paint manage to make so much noise?
Another loud smash infuriated her. How was she supposed to finish the book she had to review if this madman didn’t stop with all the banging? Sleep deprivation from staying up half the night to meet her deadline didn’t help her mood.
Thud. Thud. Crash! What the hell? Had he taken up sculpture? The sounds resembled a h...ammer breaking off chunks of misbehaving granite.
Darcy grabbed her three-hole punch and climbed onto a chair. She pounded the ceiling with brutal thuds. “There. See how you like it!”
The offensive noise stopped. “Ah…” she sighed.
Just as Darcy prepared to dismount, plaster assaulted the back of her head and sent her into a less than graceful swan dive onto the carpet. Damn! It was as if gravity and her new Italian neighbor Paolo wanted to drive her crazy.
Suddenly she didn’t care how sexy the Roman god was.MoreLess
Another loud smash infuriated her. How was she supposed to finish the book she had to review if this madman didn’t stop with all the banging? Sleep deprivation from staying up half the night to meet her deadline didn’t help her mood.
Thud. Thud. Crash! What the hell? Had he taken up sculpture? The sounds resembled a h...ammer breaking off chunks of misbehaving granite.
Darcy grabbed her three-hole punch and climbed onto a chair. She pounded the ceiling with brutal thuds. “There. See how you like it!”
The offensive noise stopped. “Ah…” she sighed.
Just as Darcy prepared to dismount, plaster assaulted the back of her head and sent her into a less than graceful swan dive onto the carpet. Damn! It was as if gravity and her new Italian neighbor Paolo wanted to drive her crazy.
Suddenly she didn’t care how sexy the Roman god was.MoreLess
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