Leigh didn’t notice the kid sit down next to her until she spoke. With the music, helmet and ear plugs she couldn’t really hear. Leigh flipped up her visor, which was fogging anyway and getting stuffy. She turned to hear the girl ask.
“Who’s your Author?”
“I don’t know,” Leigh said and judging by the girl’s expression, she’d said it too loud and frustratingly. Sighing Leigh took off her gloves and then her helmet. “Sorry, hard to hear with a helmet and ear plugs in.” She took those out too. Things seemed to be slowing down and the sapient radio wondered off. Leigh hoped nothing happened to it, because it seemed somewhat friendly.
“I really don’t know who my author is, or really even understand this whole having an author thing.” Normally, Leigh hated being caught crying, but this was… Well this was the oddest circumstance she’d been in.
Probably won’t be the last.
“And now I’m hearing a voice in my head.”
“Do you think it’s your author?”
Maybe. The voice giggled.
“It says it might be.” Leigh sighed. “I’m not sure though, it giggled at me.” For some reason being giggled at by a voice that might or might not be the person writing her actions made her lose it again. And in front of a kid too; what kind of an adult was she? And wouldn’t you know the whole army of kitchen appliances would come running down the stairs at the same time.