Dawn. The sun breaking through the morning mist, made the light cast strange patterns across young Joan's walls. Shadows, chasing bursts of light and light, moving furtively and slowly to conquer the room. The victorious light grew more intense and finally Joan, in one swift movement jumped out of the bed and at the window, throwing closed the light blue curtains and sank to the floor, blinking. The cream colored carpet came into focus more as she rubbed her eyes. Slowly, as if she were moving through water, Joan drifted over to her dresser and threw on a white tee shirt and some light blue jeans with tiny holes in the knees. Not bothering to make her bed(why make it if you'll just mess it up again at night?) she descended the stairs, all the while putting her up into a smooth, low ponytail. A quick nod for her mom and a muttered excuse for her dad and she was out the door. In the entryway she slipped on her boots and two jackets, a light gray down one and then a thinner black overcoat that would repel the rain and snow. Flinging open the door, she burst into the light at a run.------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Kind of like a prelude. If you know what the title is about and don't like stories about characters who will become Mort then I suggest you don't get attached to this one because I'm feeling particularly malicious.
