Scraps (10) Strings

...Or 'unfinished writing attempts' 
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Strings
“Where, in the entire Fibonacci sequence, is she!?!” Crissy shouted in frustration.

“Fibo – what?” Kiki chuckled.  “You should know by now, Crissy, that Alyx, as a model, must have at least- - Hey!”

Crissy yanked Kiki’s arm as she bent to glance at her (Kiki’s) cat’s eye encrusted watch.

“She should have been here 1,620 seconds ago!” Crissy said waving Kiki’s arm around.

“Stop! Stop!” Kiki wailed. “You’re ripping my arm off.”

“Sorry, sorry.  But I really have to be at the secretary’s office to plead my case of having at least one subject that deals with science – I am even willing to concede with having ridiculous biology.”

“Ridiculous biology!” Kiki said. “Hey, missy, there is nothing ridi—“

“Cut it you guys,” I said as I strolled towards them after parking my bicycle at the rails.  “Your voices are way too loud.  Don’t worry, I looked and saw that she would be here in three minutes.  The driver’s being careful. And Crissy,” as I stopped what she was going to say, “that would defeat the purpose of your parents of having you socialize with the other kids instead of you being in a workshop surrounded by futuristic inventions that mankind is not ready to receive.”

I watched as she pursed her lips and looked away.
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