The Aftermath

Previously on the Chronicles of Coralende, winfry was getting more action than a James Bond film. Or was he? Well, let me tell you, winfry was just as confused as you are now. Daydreaming was a favorite past time, true, but this was no daydream, drug-trip maybe. But the only drugs winfry did were his allergy medications in the spring and those hardly had enough kick in them to kick off his allergies let alone his reasoning. Besides he clearly remembered everything else that happened that afternoon. She thanked him for finding her a copy of the phylanix saga and then said that she thought she just might start tidying up around there. So she did and winfry, suddenly inspired, returned to the first floor and finally achieved some promising writing. I guess he was so excited by his inspiration that he didn’t really consider the snoggin’ until after he got back to his apartment later that evening.

But once he did consider it, it drove him crazy. Was it just school-girl-silliness or was isa freakingly forward? He had it hard enough making up his mind about his Saturday attire, so this whole hullabaloo had his mind utterly unmade. He couldn’t sleep; he hardly made it to work without getting run over; he forgot to eat; he only showered because it was so rooted into his routine that it would take a bulldozer to bulldoze it out; he was reprimanded at work for the first time ever; he almost didn’t go to library that next Saturday.

But he did. Go to the library that is. After putting on and off his Saturday attire 5 times, and turning back to his apartment one and a half dozen times, winfry finally made it to the nilbmah citadel public library at 9:59 – just in time for

“Good morning, winfry”

All the blood in his body pole-vaulted up into his face and his tongue was nail-gunned to the bottom of his mouth. A mumble was all he could muster as he retreated to his table. He felt horrible. Not only was he completely embarrassed, he felt the infinite guilt of being rude to isabel.

What must she think of him? He had been so rude and such an utter sap. He didn’t even address her. She must hate every minute that he’s at the library. She probably wishes that he never came to library and deeply regrets kissing him. But did that even happen? Did she give any signs? Oh no! don’t look at her, she’ll see! It can’t have happened. Impossible. Why would he be so arrogant as to presume so much? He was sap! And why had he been so awkward that morning! Idiot! There’s absolutely no way he could be of interest to her. He was a sap, a sap, a sap! And on and on it went or at least that’s what I think went on (I don’t actually know remember). That morning, winfry didn’t work at all. He just sat at his table drowning himself in a slue of self-deprecation, doubt and deceit.

“Excuse me mr. winfry. I’m on my mid-morning tea break and I was wondering if you would like to share a cup of early grey with me. You look a little preoccupied. I thought some tea might help.”