Hi. I wrote a thing, and I’d like to preface it by saying a few things. One, I haven’t written in a while, and I’m rusty. Forgive me. Two, this kinda takes place in the first episode, but obviously isn’t what happened. Three, I haven’t seen the episode, so I only know what I’ve seen on here of that one scene. Um, four… ‘sup ladies.
Anyway, here it is.
Kara sat at the table and stared down at the remnants of her chocolate pecan pie. One bite and an hour of pushing it around the plate had reduced it to a thick, brown sludge that oozed off the prongs each time she lifted her fork. The sight disgusted, yet also satisfied her, as it fell to the plate and re-congealed with the rest of the filling.
“First of all, that’s disgusting.” Alex reached over, eased the fork from her grasp, and pushed the offensive plate to the side. “Secondly, what’s wrong? I wish you would talk to me. This,” she said, gesturing toward the pie with the confiscated fork, “isn’t like you. Hell, these past few weeks haven’t been like you.”
“I know. I know.” Kara rubbed her forehead, and blew out a frustrated breath. How could she begin to explain the endless loop of apathy that she found herself in? It extended beyond decimating a perfectly good piece of pie. Even her morning routine had become long and drawn out. She lay in bed for hours after waking, just watching the ceiling fan spin as her body refused to start the day, and she thought of everything and nothing at the same time. It was so damn tiring.