Post by Naomi on Nov 11, 2006 13:33:02 GMT -5
Naomi was sitting up in a tree with a flower she had found in her right hand. With her free hand, she was slowly picking off the petals one at a time. "I tell him, I don't tell him. I tell him, I don't tell him." *If I don't tell him he might find out for himself or someone who's discovered it might tell him and I don't want that. But if I tell him who knows what will happen; he could hate me for it, he could love me back, or he could only pretend to love me out of pity.* She sighed This problem was why she was picking off the petals of a flower like a love sick schoolgirl. "I wonder if he already knows." Naomi stopped to ponder. "Ether way how would he react if I told him?"