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The above may be true but for some...err one...it means that mommy and daddy made sure you never improved because they kept you from going up against those who hurt you or were better and stronger than you. Maybe the complaining works in the dojang but #bet come #ucopen you will be enlightened again just like the last time you competed at the #americanopen #dontbaby (at Daly City, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/BzKSRR3gFJA/?igshid=lzch3tcmrj45
“Damn this test is kicking my ass.” Peter drawled lazily to no one in particular, running his fingers through his hair, trying to mess it up in that casually elegant way James used to be so proficient at when they were in school together and failing miserably. He was on his third ice-cream of the hour, but the only way he could see himself getting through the massive pile of homework he had been given with his sanity still intact was with a lot of comfort food to make it all seem a little more bearable. Applying to University had been a joke at first, he hadn’t actually thought he would get in. What’s more, he hadn’t thought it was possible for any subject to give out more homework than he had been used to at NEWT level. Sadly, he was coming to realise that he had been mistaken. He found that he was mistaken about a lot of things these days.
He sighs, and runs a hand through his hair again, mixing up his pencil with the straw to his ice cream and spluttering when he gets wood splinters on his tongue, knocking over his glass in the process, successfully ruining an afternoon’s work. “Oh fuck.” He hisses, jumping out of his chair with a look of dismay so dramatic that it would seem comical to anyone else who spotted it. “You mind getting me a tissue?” This was directed at the person nearest him, as Peter frantically dabbed at his test with his shirtsleeve, achieving virtually nothing. “Please?”
It had been a very busy day today, and Ted was just about ready to head home and enjoy a book and some hot chocolate. There were only so many wounded cases he could take before he would break down. The war had taken a toll on so many people, and a lot of them were past the stage of possible recovery. Just recently, a mentally unstable patient came rushing in the main door, causing a bit of havoc before he was confined in a chamber. They had yet to determine if the Cruciatus curse had been used on him.
Ted sighed. He had just sat down and registered a new case at the front desk when he heard something in front of him. “Welcome to St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, how may I help you?” He asked automatically, not looking up from his papers.
Swirling a spoon in her ice cream Sybill sat in a booth by herself at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, staring across the street at nothing in particular. Everyone’s aura today seemed dull and as she stirred her ice cream she couldn’t help but feel others auras affecting her. In fact, one seemed to be nearing, turning she stared at the person that was standing in front of her now. Her eyes growing wide at who it was. Their aura not one of boredom but one of annoyance.
“Yes?”
“ Wouldn’t even try that if I were you. At least, if you considered your fingers to be of the utmost importance. “
