Creative Writing: Boredom

AMELIA Boredom is a powerful motivator, apparently. It was boredom that drove me into the far from ordinary house of Izabella Andrews. Boredom and a welcoming stained glass door.
‘Welcoming’ is not a word most would use to describe glass, especially of the stained variety. Glass is cold, separate, and fragile. Stained glass makes you feel like what is behind those panes is divine, and not to be touched by human hands or minds. So, perhaps it was what I saw through the glass was what drew me into knocking on her door one random Sunday while my family was at church. I was not supposed to be anywhere near Izzy’s house. I was supposed to be sitting next to my mother as the preacher talked on and on about the same thing week after week. Maybe

If I thought I was going to be killed because of my dress being destroyed, then I don’t know what my mother would have done to Gwenna. I was unable to distinguish the original color from the splashes of what looked like paint, and the dirt all over her skin, and in her hair. Her glasses dulled the brightness of her eyes, though not the happiness in them. She was slightly intoxicating to look at. “Gwenna. Yeah, I think I can manage that,” I said with a smile and a self-conscience hand running through my, comparatively, bland hair. “Good. Now, what are you doing here?” For some reason, I wasn’t expecting the question, though even if I had, I still wouldn’t have had an answer for her. So, I simply shrugged. Her response to that was also not something that I was expecting. She laughed. “What? Why are you laughing?” I had to ask; instinct wouldn’t let me get away without being at least somewhat imposing and awkward. “Of course I’m laughing. You show up at my doorstep, don’t know who I am, and then don’t have a reason to be here. It’s hilarious.” I wasn’t sure about that, but I let it be and just laughed with her. It seemed…easier. “I was running from yet another boring service.” I said, offering an explanation as to my random appearance, as I gestured to the dress. Her eyes scanned over me, and I could see thoughts forming in her