Chloe was bored. She lay on her bed and stared up at the plaster ceiling above her, admiring the intricate patterns to the edging. Given Chloe had read all of her books countless times before, she was starting to grow a little tired of them; it was still a little while until her birthday, where she could ask for more. Television didn’t intrigue her, and it was raining outside, heavily, which kept her from going out to play in the gardens again.
Amen, Chloe. From one introverted bookworm of a child to another I feel you!
