She skips backwards, scowls because she was made to skip, and slouches again.
'It's performance art. An installation. And it's not my fault you made me cry, what with saying Dad--Da--the D-word.' Rose stares nobly into the distance, fists clenched, and she takes great theatrical shuddering whoops of air so he'll understand that the emotion she feels now is Pain. Or Upset, whatever, it's all his fault, and HE'LL BE SORRY.
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2008-12-14 09:00 pm (UTC)'It's performance art. An installation. And it's not my fault you made me cry, what with saying Dad--Da--the D-word.' Rose stares nobly into the distance, fists clenched, and she takes great theatrical shuddering whoops of air so he'll understand that the emotion she feels now is Pain. Or Upset, whatever, it's all his fault, and HE'LL BE SORRY.