3A one shot I never finished... Read if you want to.
Today was indeed a beautiful day to come down there. Today was full of children's laughter, blue birds singing happily, and loving couples having picnics. This was the first day of spring! My favourite season, of all! I really hope that am going to see her today; today is the only day I am allowed out of heaven (that, plus I tied up god!). I am so glad that I came all the way
...
And then I saw her cry
She had shed a bountiful amount of tears from her delicate eyes. Why had she so shed so many meaningful tears? What was this thing? What had stopped me from seeing her?
Oh… It must be that day again.
How many years has it been since that day? Why, after so many years does she still cry? She knows I'm not coming back, but she cries. What a terrible day to come back.
I have to remember that utterly abnormal day, so I won't see her cry.
"Do do do~ Walking down Maryann Lane~ Do do da~" quietly sang a man in a top hat while walking. "Gonna see my beautiful girl~"
The man in the top hat also had a cane, a watch, and a suit. The man who wore all of these things, also had a British accent. The man with the accent also had, in his coat pocket, a betrothal ring. The man who had a ring in his coat pocket was going to see his lovely Amelia, oh how he loved that woman. The man who loved lovely Amelia was named Arthur "Iggy" Kirkland, a Classic British foul-mouthed gentlemen.
Arthur was walking to his lover's, Amelia F. Jones, cottage to say something important to her. He was going to propose, with his grandmother's old sapphire wedding ring.
"What a splendid day for this special occasion!" happily thought Arthur, as he walked with bounce.
Today was the first day of spring, his favorite day of his favorite season in. No wonder he had picked this day to propose.
Upon seeing Amelia's house, he picked up his pace, hurry to see her.
Amelia was a young bold woman, originally from America. She had moved to Chesterfield, England for her own needs. Usually during these time, it was the other way around, from England to America, but not this for this young lady. She had bought a small, little cottage; worked as a well-known laureate; and had every one of her needs. She even had a Maine coon and Rag doll mix of a cat, named Hero for some odd reason. Probably because of her love of that Captain America, and her other super heroes.
A few months ago I had meet Madeline, Amelia's editor's, at a small Café. She later introduced me to Amelia, and from that day it was history.
Oh how much I loved her...
After that terrible day, I hat myself. I hate myself because of what I had done to her. How could she still love me after what I did? Oliver was injurious at the time he came around and he hurt her.
I rang her doorbell, eagerly waiting for her to answer the door.
"Amelia! It's me, Arthur! And not the creepy Russian!" I yelled; she had somehow gotten herself a Russian stalker. Please don't ask how that happened.
"It's open!" Amelia called back distractedly from the living compartment.
I had let myself in, and hung up my hat and coat.
She had been sitting at her desk, starting at a piece of blank paper. Oh the writer's block, or as she would call it Blocks of Slime, must of came over her again.
I grabbed a chair and sat next to her. "What problem is it today?", I unhappily said out-loud, trying to get Amelia's attention.
She looked up at me and said, "Should he Levi die or not?"
Knowing who it was I replied, "Let him die, he was no use to the program."
"But wouldn't Aaron go into chaos with his emotions?"
"He was too good, it's not like anyone would care," I replied sarcastically.
"I suppose you are right about that."
...
After that ordeal, she wrote about a page or two, while I went to make something in the small kitchen.
"Amelia, where is your flour?,"
THATS IT! That's all I wrote. I wrote this for writing class, but never turned it in. I also had to read it out LOUD! I regret it.