The Mundane Artist

"What? Are you serious? But I really have to get to school! Argh, fine." Harleen sighed. She locked her door, and stomped, rather than walked downstairs. She was so angry. Her driver ditched her at the last moment. She would've been very understanding if only this last moment of cancellation hadn't occurred before. She started her journey from her house towards school. The school was closed for the winter, but a few diligent teachers wanted to take some tests, classes and get students to submit their due assignments. But Harleen was a smart kid. She wasn't going to school for any of that. After all, she studied well, and her assignments were submitted on or before the due dates. She was going to school for her applications to be filled by the teachers for college. College. Graduation. She detested these two words. And these two words had been revolving around her from the past few months, and future few too, it seemed. This added to the apathetic behaviour of...

"Familial bonds are not created through the transfer of information. They are forged through experience over time. They are the sum of Potty Training times Sick Days, of Nights Spent Sleeping in the Same Bed times Knee Scrapes Kissed in Playgrounds. The intimacy of parenting and children is not based on data as much as it is on proximity." - Paul Allen, The Good Father .