My first FF ever, really. VERY SCARED.
I just wanted to thank Foxcat93 soooo much for the review! It means so much. I wish I could just hug you!~ Love you... ^^
"Harpo was exactly what harp means: Angel. You know, there's a church in Brussels, and on top are all little cherubs. And they all look like Harpo Marx."
"He was an angel. There was nobody like him, there never will be anybody like him. He was just simply wonderful."
"Harpo was almost not of this world, he was saintly, ethereal. He was my favourite person."
"Comedy is gentle and sweet and good and intelligent and honest, and that is what Harpo Marx was. Comedy makes you feel good, and that is what Harpo Marx did. And when I met him, I found out the best thing of all: That the man, the person, was even more beautiful than the image."
My name is Norah, and one day, my day off, I went for a walk in the park and came back home with a person whom God sent just for me.
I'm homeschooled, so I spend all day indoors, except for when I have to do gym, and I make my own schedule, meaning I don't necessarily get weekends off. The day I met, "Him," was a Wednesday.
I was staring out the window and biting my pencil so hard I could hear the crunch in my head and ringing in my ears. I sat it down and flipped it back and forth impatiently. I was going to go crazy. I couldn't do this for one more minute.
The park down the street was usually the place I went when I had to calm my nerves. I got jumpy and restless pretty easily, a trait that doesn't help when you're a homeschooler.
Sun was shining through the tress above my head. I never walked with my head up; I always looked at my feet. My mother told me this wasn't a good thing. Said it means I needed more confidence. I didn't tell her I don't quite know what "confidence" was. But the whole matter didn't seem important; I let it drop.
Obviously, walking without looking where you're going has its consequences. While heading down a winding path I bumped into something warm and purple. I took a step back, startled, and seen the funniest looking person! He was short, very short, with a bent over top hat sitting on a brilliant shock of curly red hair. His hair was so beautifully curly it looked like a bowl of noodle soup. He wore odd clothes- a long, dark purple trench coat covering mismatched attire, such as stripes and polka- dots.
And yet, despite the overall strangeness of him, he was gaping at me as if I'm the one who looks crazy.
In his hands he held a way over-sized taxi horn which he honked at me and smiled.
Probably a few times in your life, something will happen and the very second it does, you know it means something of great significance. Take this moment, for example. As soon as he smiled at me, I knew for sure that God had listened, that he had at long last sent me a friend. I smiled back.
Noodle Soup suddenly whirled around and skipped off merrily. I opened my mouth and almost screamed. My savoir was getting away! Deciding not to run after him, I followed him casually, trying to not appear as a stalker or something of the sorts.
He stopped in front of someone pushing a cart selling balloons. I leaned against a tree, twirling my hair as I watched my savoir pull out a pair of scissors from his pocket. I blinked as I realized Noodle Soup just pulled out a pair of scissors! Who the heck carries around scissors in their pockets? He then grabbed five balloons before the man selling them coud do a thing and swiftly snipped them.
The balloon vendor's face became red and he looked very angry and embarrassed. He yelled, "What do you think you're doing?"
Before I could stop myself I had taken out some money and held it out to the poor balloon man. He yanked it from me and said, "Thank you." That was the last of my ten dollar allowance, I thought sadly.
He pushed the cart away from us, grumbling to himself. My savoir had his head tilted all the way back, holding his top hat in his hands, so I could see the entire, gorgeous head of hair he had. The balloons, three blue, one yellow, and one red, floated way up, all reaching for the cloudless blue sky. I said, equally entranced as him, "You're welcome."
Noodle Soup honked his horn and did something I totally didn't expect. He jumped at me and smothered me in a hug. A very quick hug at that; he let me go in only a couple seconds. He gave nice hugs. Not one of those skimpy hugs where the person clearly doesn't want to touch you, but one where they put everything into it. A warm and fuzzy hug.
Looking into his blue eyes, I asked, "What's your name?" I wasn't sure he would give an answer, since he hadn't spoken a word up to this point.
He pointed to himself, indicating, Me?, and I nodded.
My savoir shrugged and honked the taxi horn slowly, sadly. This was just what I wanted! I always dreamed of giving my friends names, I just never thought the opportunity would arise. I looked him up and down, trying to not seem judgmental. His hair reminded me of a giant dust bunny, so I told him," Your name can be Dusty."
"Dusty," beamed, proud of his newfound identity. He poked my stomach with the other end of his horn. I said, "Oh, I'm Norah. Pleased to meet'cha." I performed a extravagant curtsy for Dusty. In return, he bowed, nearly tripping over his own feet, and I laughed.
Dusty linked arms with me and tried leading me the other way, but I dug my heels into the ground and said, "Home's this way." I expected a fight, because all saviours, even if they are sent from God, are not perfect. But instead, this one simply gave up and followed me right to my house, skipping happily. He was spellbound by practically everything, from the dandylions to the birds to fire hydrants. He honked every now and then, each time causing me to smile wide.