[identity profile] tess-thiess.livejournal.com
Day 358, Monday May 24th
Kate's apartment
Evening, before dinner


I've spent four days now bein' sick with anger. It's burnt a hole in my belly, and it makes me flinch every time I touch Kate, 'r even look at her. There shouldn't be any shame in it, not when you dunt have a choice, any more 'f I was forced. And that's what it was. I can guess well 'nough who it was as wished me a husband and a child on the way. But it was no different than bein' held down by someone 'n forced.

It ain't the first this sort 'a thing has happened here. Each time I get angrier, but there's nothin' I can find t'do. I've shoved as much 'v it as I can into that knife I used at the riot, but there's so much there I worry I'll start t'bleed as soon as I pick it up. I'm wonderin' how much longer we can stay here, 'f this keeps up. But we can't leave neither, so far as I can tell. I feel trapped.

And then there's Kate. At least I ain't pregnant. There ain't a baby on the way from some man I never loved 'n never married. Some man I never left Kate for. It stings, bad, that it was me as left her and got married 'n all the rest. I already messed up once, and the world won't let me forget.

Can she? Hell. I bite my lip as I slice up the spring onions fer the pot, and glance over where Kate's fixin' the rest.

[Open to Kate]
[identity profile] tess-thiess.livejournal.com
Day 358, Monday May 24th
Kate's apartment
Evening, before dinner


I've spent four days now bein' sick with anger. It's burnt a hole in my belly, and it makes me flinch every time I touch Kate, 'r even look at her. There shouldn't be any shame in it, not when you dunt have a choice, any more 'f I was forced. And that's what it was. I can guess well 'nough who it was as wished me a husband and a child on the way. But it was no different than bein' held down by someone 'n forced.

It ain't the first this sort 'a thing has happened here. Each time I get angrier, but there's nothin' I can find t'do. I've shoved as much 'v it as I can into that knife I used at the riot, but there's so much there I worry I'll start t'bleed as soon as I pick it up. I'm wonderin' how much longer we can stay here, 'f this keeps up. But we can't leave neither, so far as I can tell. I feel trapped.

And then there's Kate. At least I ain't pregnant. There ain't a baby on the way from some man I never loved 'n never married. Some man I never left Kate for. It stings, bad, that it was me as left her and got married 'n all the rest. I already messed up once, and the world won't let me forget.

Can she? Hell. I bite my lip as I slice up the spring onions fer the pot, and glance over where Kate's fixin' the rest.

[Open to Kate]
[identity profile] tess-thiess.livejournal.com
Day 352, Tuesday May 18th
Just before lunch
The Apothecary


There's water on my cheek, which is strange. I wipe it off on my apron and go back to heating the tincture of belladonna. There's a few women as want it t'look nice fer their fellas, and it's got plenty 'a uses 'asides that. The fumes could be a problem, though, and so I keep an eye on the glass as I go open up the windows. I smile as I see Kate sweepin' dust out her front door, and wave. I'm glad she dunt have no hard feelings 'bout it all, but I needed t'grow up, 'n she understands.

Family's got t'come first, after all.

I go back t'check the tincture, 'n start wipin' down the tabletop. You've got t'be careful workin' with belladonna, and soon 'nough I'll have t'be more careful with what I'm handlin', once we manage. At least my family dunt have too much trouble with that. It'll be nice t'have a child 'a my own. Johnny's pretty well grown, and Ma's got Mary well in hand. And the town could do with a birth - they always make people happier. Could bring the town 'n the farms closer, too. It's a good thing I married a townie. 'Sides, I'm happier here. I love my family, but 'f I'm t'do right by 'em, I can at least live with the man I love.

[Open]
[identity profile] tess-thiess.livejournal.com
Day 352, Tuesday May 18th
Just before lunch
The Apothecary


There's water on my cheek, which is strange. I wipe it off on my apron and go back to heating the tincture of belladonna. There's a few women as want it t'look nice fer their fellas, and it's got plenty 'a uses 'asides that. The fumes could be a problem, though, and so I keep an eye on the glass as I go open up the windows. I smile as I see Kate sweepin' dust out her front door, and wave. I'm glad she dunt have no hard feelings 'bout it all, but I needed t'grow up, 'n she understands.

Family's got t'come first, after all.

I go back t'check the tincture, 'n start wipin' down the tabletop. You've got t'be careful workin' with belladonna, and soon 'nough I'll have t'be more careful with what I'm handlin', once we manage. At least my family dunt have too much trouble with that. It'll be nice t'have a child 'a my own. Johnny's pretty well grown, and Ma's got Mary well in hand. And the town could do with a birth - they always make people happier. Could bring the town 'n the farms closer, too. It's a good thing I married a townie. 'Sides, I'm happier here. I love my family, but 'f I'm t'do right by 'em, I can at least live with the man I love.

[Open]
[identity profile] hermia-sophia.livejournal.com
Sunday, April 4
The garden behind the Whitechapel Inn

We awoke in each other's arms, both terrified. Valmont, because he feared that I was being attacked; I because I felt something wrong in the world, something beyond the long sleep and painful thirst and weakness. Some ripple of Power that was twisted and wrong. But under it all I could sense Nanshe's presence helping to set the dream-world right again. And Valmont and I had each other, and we were safe, and despite everything, that makes the waking world right.

And neither of us wanted to postpone the ceremony. We wanted - no, needed to continue. Needed to make some new beginning, needed to make life go on as it was supposed to.

And so, still shaky, we went to the abbey this morning at dawn.

Valmont said that I was the one guiding this part of our wedding solemnities, for I was the one closer to the gods. So I arranged the offerings for us to burn on Nanshe's altar: two little bundles, both the same. Not hair. Not incense. Not anything that would be in an Athenian wedding offering to the gods. We are making our own way, here.

So there are herbs from the garden that I planted and he cooks from. The first lilacs that Valmont gave me, and the lilies I gave him, both now dried into fragrant shadows of themselves. Splinters of wood from an empty keg for his profession; scraps of paper from an old book for mine. (Lydia offered me a book that was falling apart anyway; I would never have taken a page from a book otherwise! She gave us a gift, too: a lovely leather-bound and gilt-edged volume of Yeats.) And cotton candy - even though it made everything terribly sticky and I feared it would melt, I had to put cotton candy in there, for the memory of that first night that we soared above Excolo on the ferris wheel and felt as if we were flying. And because it made both of us laugh when I put it in, and we should begin our life together with laughter.

We smile as we light our offerings, and as we smell the fragrance as it floats up to the heavens.

Now, back in the garden behind the inn, I smile again as I wait to take my place next to Valmont and in front of Mab. I've found more lilacs for the bouquet, white and purple both, standing out against the shimmering deep blue fabric of my gown.

I have no parents to bring me to the altar, and neither does Valmont. We just have ourselves, and are giving ourselves to each other.

There they all are. Our friends - all of the people who have grown dear to us in the last year. Our Alice, looking lovely and more grown-up than ever. Mab, tall and serious. And Valmont, who looks so magnificent that my heart leaps at the sight.

I feel a nervous thrill run through me as I step out. Dear gods, I'm getting married! For an instant, I'm terrified, as I stare down that long aisle. But then I realize, why should I be afraid? At the end of the aisle is Valmont. I have nothing to fear as long as he is there.

At the end of my long journey, he was here waiting for me.

So I take a deep breath and step forward, towards my new life.

[Open to wedding guests!]
[identity profile] hermia-sophia.livejournal.com
Sunday, April 4
The garden behind the Whitechapel Inn

We awoke in each other's arms, both terrified. Valmont, because he feared that I was being attacked; I because I felt something wrong in the world, something beyond the long sleep and painful thirst and weakness. Some ripple of Power that was twisted and wrong. But under it all I could sense Nanshe's presence helping to set the dream-world right again. And Valmont and I had each other, and we were safe, and despite everything, that makes the waking world right.

And neither of us wanted to postpone the ceremony. We wanted - no, needed to continue. Needed to make some new beginning, needed to make life go on as it was supposed to.

And so, still shaky, we went to the abbey this morning at dawn.

Valmont said that I was the one guiding this part of our wedding solemnities, for I was the one closer to the gods. So I arranged the offerings for us to burn on Nanshe's altar: two little bundles, both the same. Not hair. Not incense. Not anything that would be in an Athenian wedding offering to the gods. We are making our own way, here.

So there are herbs from the garden that I planted and he cooks from. The first lilacs that Valmont gave me, and the lilies I gave him, both now dried into fragrant shadows of themselves. Splinters of wood from an empty keg for his profession; scraps of paper from an old book for mine. (Lydia offered me a book that was falling apart anyway; I would never have taken a page from a book otherwise! She gave us a gift, too: a lovely leather-bound and gilt-edged volume of Yeats.) And cotton candy - even though it made everything terribly sticky and I feared it would melt, I had to put cotton candy in there, for the memory of that first night that we soared above Excolo on the ferris wheel and felt as if we were flying. And because it made both of us laugh when I put it in, and we should begin our life together with laughter.

We smile as we light our offerings, and as we smell the fragrance as it floats up to the heavens.

Now, back in the garden behind the inn, I smile again as I wait to take my place next to Valmont and in front of Mab. I've found more lilacs for the bouquet, white and purple both, standing out against the shimmering deep blue fabric of my gown.

I have no parents to bring me to the altar, and neither does Valmont. We just have ourselves, and are giving ourselves to each other.

There they all are. Our friends - all of the people who have grown dear to us in the last year. Our Alice, looking lovely and more grown-up than ever. Mab, tall and serious. And Valmont, who looks so magnificent that my heart leaps at the sight.

I feel a nervous thrill run through me as I step out. Dear gods, I'm getting married! For an instant, I'm terrified, as I stare down that long aisle. But then I realize, why should I be afraid? At the end of the aisle is Valmont. I have nothing to fear as long as he is there.

At the end of my long journey, he was here waiting for me.

So I take a deep breath and step forward, towards my new life.

[Open to wedding guests!]
[identity profile] tess-thiess.livejournal.com
Day 308, Sunday April 4th
Morning
Kate and Tess' Apartment


I still ain't sure how t'take the dream. At least there's no question 'v it bein' strange 'r not, not with Kate 'n others havin' the same one, 'n with a few days gone past since we lay down t'bed. The part as bothers me most was I couldn't do nothin'. I was in the dream, part 'v it, but part 'v it so much that I couldn't act, just watch and warn and try t'be what I needed t'be. And with all that it's hard t'explain t'Kate. Syl might understand better, but when I went out by the Carnival she wasn't lookin' t'have any visitors.

The kettle whistles and I set coffee on t'brew. Drinkin' it seems like such a new part 'a my life with Kate, 'cause we only had tea on the farm. I've got a new life here, and even with all the troubles in town I wouldn't go back.

I call down "It's open!" when there's a knock on the door, and listen as Johnny trudges up the steps. "Mind you dunt track any mud in too!" I call as I get out some 'a the food I'd set aside. He looks healthy 'nough, but I can tell he ain't sleep the past day 'r two. Fair 'nough, since neither Kate nor I've bin well inclined t'that neither. I feel a brief strangeness as he crosses the threshold, leavin' his shoes on the mat. It's good t'know my work ain't bin wasted, though I've only just started. I got the idea from the Tavern, and the wards Verdandi's supposed t'have put up. I couldn't manage nothin' like that, but somethin' t'mark strangeness, well, that ain't so much trouble. And there's more 'asides that, in the journals, but I ain't up t'workin' it out yet.

"So," I ask him, "how've you bin since?" He just wraps his arms 'round me, and when I'm done bein' surprised I hug him back.

[Open to Johnny]
[identity profile] tess-thiess.livejournal.com
Day 308, Sunday April 4th
Morning
Kate and Tess' Apartment


I still ain't sure how t'take the dream. At least there's no question 'v it bein' strange 'r not, not with Kate 'n others havin' the same one, 'n with a few days gone past since we lay down t'bed. The part as bothers me most was I couldn't do nothin'. I was in the dream, part 'v it, but part 'v it so much that I couldn't act, just watch and warn and try t'be what I needed t'be. And with all that it's hard t'explain t'Kate. Syl might understand better, but when I went out by the Carnival she wasn't lookin' t'have any visitors.

The kettle whistles and I set coffee on t'brew. Drinkin' it seems like such a new part 'a my life with Kate, 'cause we only had tea on the farm. I've got a new life here, and even with all the troubles in town I wouldn't go back.

I call down "It's open!" when there's a knock on the door, and listen as Johnny trudges up the steps. "Mind you dunt track any mud in too!" I call as I get out some 'a the food I'd set aside. He looks healthy 'nough, but I can tell he ain't sleep the past day 'r two. Fair 'nough, since neither Kate nor I've bin well inclined t'that neither. I feel a brief strangeness as he crosses the threshold, leavin' his shoes on the mat. It's good t'know my work ain't bin wasted, though I've only just started. I got the idea from the Tavern, and the wards Verdandi's supposed t'have put up. I couldn't manage nothin' like that, but somethin' t'mark strangeness, well, that ain't so much trouble. And there's more 'asides that, in the journals, but I ain't up t'workin' it out yet.

"So," I ask him, "how've you bin since?" He just wraps his arms 'round me, and when I'm done bein' surprised I hug him back.

[Open to Johnny]
[identity profile] goddessnanshe.livejournal.com
Wednesday, sometime, somewhere in Dream

Once upon time there was a beautiful princess. Her hair was the colour of jet and her skin was the colour of nutmeg, and each of her teeth were like pearls. Flowers grew where she walked, so that the fields around the tower that was her home was carpeted in blooms as white as snow. The princess was very happy, all save for one thing: her fear that one day the thorn of one of the flowers would prick her. Her servants combed the field for thorns every day, trimming the stems so that it would be safe for her to walk. But still the princess was afraid, and she neglected to notice that each month the forest encroached closer on her home, until one day, standing in her field of flowers, she looked up to see the trees looming around her, undergrowth thick with thorns. Frightened, she fled inside, and as she ran she began her first bleeding, and the blood that trickled down her thigh fell to the earth and stained the roses around the tower a deep and brilliant red.

Inside the tower the princess was afraid that she was dying, for her father had always insisted that royal blood was the most precious of all things and must never be spilled. Weeping, she showed the blood to her old nurse, who laughed and kissed her cheek and told her this was the secret gift of women, and now she was blessed. So the princess wiped her eyes, and was no longer afraid of bleeding. But the thorns of the forest came for her all the same.
[identity profile] goddessnanshe.livejournal.com
Wednesday, sometime, somewhere in Dream

Once upon time there was a beautiful princess. Her hair was the colour of jet and her skin was the colour of nutmeg, and each of her teeth were like pearls. Flowers grew where she walked, so that the fields around the tower that was her home was carpeted in blooms as white as snow. The princess was very happy, all save for one thing: her fear that one day the thorn of one of the flowers would prick her. Her servants combed the field for thorns every day, trimming the stems so that it would be safe for her to walk. But still the princess was afraid, and she neglected to notice that each month the forest encroached closer on her home, until one day, standing in her field of flowers, she looked up to see the trees looming around her, undergrowth thick with thorns. Frightened, she fled inside, and as she ran she began her first bleeding, and the blood that trickled down her thigh fell to the earth and stained the roses around the tower a deep and brilliant red.

Inside the tower the princess was afraid that she was dying, for her father had always insisted that royal blood was the most precious of all things and must never be spilled. Weeping, she showed the blood to her old nurse, who laughed and kissed her cheek and told her this was the secret gift of women, and now she was blessed. So the princess wiped her eyes, and was no longer afraid of bleeding. But the thorns of the forest came for her all the same.
[identity profile] npc-excolo.livejournal.com
Dream.

There is a great sea. The sky is grey, the water green, and the seafoam is the flecked white of milk on the turn. The shore is stone and shingle, and the cliffs are bone-shades. Will you wake on the little fishing boat that rides the waves, wary of great beasts that lurk beneath the surface, or on the cold and stony shore? Or perhaps as some watery thing yourself, breathing in water as cold as ice and with a salt-iron taste like blood?

[OPEN TO ALL]
[identity profile] npc-excolo.livejournal.com
Dream.

There is a great sea. The sky is grey, the water green, and the seafoam is the flecked white of milk on the turn. The shore is stone and shingle, and the cliffs are bone-shades. Will you wake on the little fishing boat that rides the waves, wary of great beasts that lurk beneath the surface, or on the cold and stony shore? Or perhaps as some watery thing yourself, breathing in water as cold as ice and with a salt-iron taste like blood?

[OPEN TO ALL]
[identity profile] jamie-kincaid.livejournal.com
[Friday, March 12th (Day 285)]
[The Apothecary]
[Past lunch, not yet dinner]



My favorite meal is cooking away at home and hopefully Molly remembered to include the sweetbread.  I wanted to be done and back before dinnertime and if I finish here quickly, I might make it.  I look at my list again and I can't imagine why Molly'd ask for so much.

Angelica, catnip, chamomile, dandelion, elecampane, fennel, ginger, lady's mantle, and willow bark.

I'm not sure what all of these herbs are for but the Apothecary's clerks have always been helpful.   And they know their business too so I won't have to worry about making heads or tails of this list.  Thank Nanshe.  Molly's lists are notoriously long and I try to remember when she got so demanding.  Oh yes, always.

Lavender buds too.  Can't forget that either and I walk in, humming a happy tune.  No Jenna today and no Glass behind the counter either, and I nod at the clerk, smiling a bit as I say, "Afternoon miss."  She's got big, sooty eyes, the kind my father would have called 'smokey pools', and she looks familiar but I'm not sure who she is. "Mind helping me with my list?  My sister expects me to come home with all of it, you see."


[Open to Tess]
[Closed]
[identity profile] jamie-kincaid.livejournal.com
[Friday, March 12th (Day 285)]
[The Apothecary]
[Past lunch, not yet dinner]



My favorite meal is cooking away at home and hopefully Molly remembered to include the sweetbread.  I wanted to be done and back before dinnertime and if I finish here quickly, I might make it.  I look at my list again and I can't imagine why Molly'd ask for so much.

Angelica, catnip, chamomile, dandelion, elecampane, fennel, ginger, lady's mantle, and willow bark.

I'm not sure what all of these herbs are for but the Apothecary's clerks have always been helpful.   And they know their business too so I won't have to worry about making heads or tails of this list.  Thank Nanshe.  Molly's lists are notoriously long and I try to remember when she got so demanding.  Oh yes, always.

Lavender buds too.  Can't forget that either and I walk in, humming a happy tune.  No Jenna today and no Glass behind the counter either, and I nod at the clerk, smiling a bit as I say, "Afternoon miss."  She's got big, sooty eyes, the kind my father would have called 'smokey pools', and she looks familiar but I'm not sure who she is. "Mind helping me with my list?  My sister expects me to come home with all of it, you see."


[Open to Tess]
[Closed]
[identity profile] tess-thiess.livejournal.com
Day 283, Wednesday March 10th
Past lunch, not yet dinner
The Apothecary


I ain't seen Polly much in the past two weeks, though I've passed her people in the street 'n the market. I ain't sure how I feel 'bout her. She seemed real nice, and it's good t'meet someone closer t'my Ma's age as dunt disapprove 'a Kate 'n me. But it's real annoyin' how she was also sayin' it was a duty t'bear children.

With all the Family pushes havin' 'em, I should 'a given more thought t'the idea. But I ain't, really. Children never seemed like somethin' in my future, like there was just more I wanted and they wasn't a part 'a that. And now I'm with Kate it surely ain't likely.

I shake my head and keep crushin' leaves. It's bin on my mind, more 'n anythin' else she said 'bout burnin' 'r the serpent. It bothers me how much I've bin thinkin' on it. Maybe it's bin like that 'cause 'a Glass Beddau, 'r 'cause 'a Wanda. Though that always breaks my thoughts off darker, and there's times I think I'd follow through 'f I dint know what Kate'd think, 'r 'f I was sure the father wouldn't intervene.

Neither Johnny nor I 'r restin' easy, things bein' what they are with the family. He ain't 'bout t'split with Damien for them, and I sure 's hell ain't 'bout t'leave Kate. Thinkin' on it makes the knife stir at my belt in sullen anger.

But thought 'a babies and murders aside, I suppose I'm well. Middle 'a winter and lots 'a folks 'r mindin' 'emselves. It seems like the whole town's slowed down some. I expect it'll change come spring, 'f we get there.

The door rings, and I tuck my shawl 'round me as the cold sweeps in, and go t'help another customer. 'Least business is still runnin' smooth, now that Bluebeard's tucked away cozy in his house most days.

[Open]
[identity profile] tess-thiess.livejournal.com
Day 283, Wednesday March 10th
Past lunch, not yet dinner
The Apothecary


I ain't seen Polly much in the past two weeks, though I've passed her people in the street 'n the market. I ain't sure how I feel 'bout her. She seemed real nice, and it's good t'meet someone closer t'my Ma's age as dunt disapprove 'a Kate 'n me. But it's real annoyin' how she was also sayin' it was a duty t'bear children.

With all the Family pushes havin' 'em, I should 'a given more thought t'the idea. But I ain't, really. Children never seemed like somethin' in my future, like there was just more I wanted and they wasn't a part 'a that. And now I'm with Kate it surely ain't likely.

I shake my head and keep crushin' leaves. It's bin on my mind, more 'n anythin' else she said 'bout burnin' 'r the serpent. It bothers me how much I've bin thinkin' on it. Maybe it's bin like that 'cause 'a Glass Beddau, 'r 'cause 'a Wanda. Though that always breaks my thoughts off darker, and there's times I think I'd follow through 'f I dint know what Kate'd think, 'r 'f I was sure the father wouldn't intervene.

Neither Johnny nor I 'r restin' easy, things bein' what they are with the family. He ain't 'bout t'split with Damien for them, and I sure 's hell ain't 'bout t'leave Kate. Thinkin' on it makes the knife stir at my belt in sullen anger.

But thought 'a babies and murders aside, I suppose I'm well. Middle 'a winter and lots 'a folks 'r mindin' 'emselves. It seems like the whole town's slowed down some. I expect it'll change come spring, 'f we get there.

The door rings, and I tuck my shawl 'round me as the cold sweeps in, and go t'help another customer. 'Least business is still runnin' smooth, now that Bluebeard's tucked away cozy in his house most days.

[Open]
[identity profile] pollyladon.livejournal.com
The third day of the full Anthesterion (Saturday, February 27th)

A cool day yesterday was, but despite the louring sky we stood under it clad in our finery and embraced one another, for we welcomed into our midst a new member. Better it would be to have baptised her under a spring sun, in an orchard blooming, or at harvest time under trees ripe with fruit, but we did what we could to make it joyous. Dried fruit we shared, and winter apples stored in the cold, sweet and fresh as the day they were plucked. She put off her old name and took on a new - Halie, after one of the Nereids.

Came into town I did early today to visit the market, and as I approached the place I saw the first flurry of snowflakes come down. I buy what I need, and I should hurry home, but the snow does not seem to be falling faster - same steady whiteness - and so I decide a warm drink and a meal after time browsing and bartering would be best. So I take myself to the cafe, and I ask for whatever is hot and ready. A slice of chicken pie I get, crust puffed and steaming, vegetables on the side, and hot cider. Good food for a cold day.

[OPEN]
[identity profile] pollyladon.livejournal.com
The third day of the full Anthesterion (Saturday, February 27th)

A cool day yesterday was, but despite the louring sky we stood under it clad in our finery and embraced one another, for we welcomed into our midst a new member. Better it would be to have baptised her under a spring sun, in an orchard blooming, or at harvest time under trees ripe with fruit, but we did what we could to make it joyous. Dried fruit we shared, and winter apples stored in the cold, sweet and fresh as the day they were plucked. She put off her old name and took on a new - Halie, after one of the Nereids.

Came into town I did early today to visit the market, and as I approached the place I saw the first flurry of snowflakes come down. I buy what I need, and I should hurry home, but the snow does not seem to be falling faster - same steady whiteness - and so I decide a warm drink and a meal after time browsing and bartering would be best. So I take myself to the cafe, and I ask for whatever is hot and ready. A slice of chicken pie I get, crust puffed and steaming, vegetables on the side, and hot cider. Good food for a cold day.

[OPEN]
[identity profile] npc-excolo.livejournal.com
Sunday, February 14th
Valentine's Day


I sit on my bed with my legs crossed, writing real careful in my notebook. MRS CLARA GRANGER I write, all tidy, then underneath I practice my signature. Clara Granger. That nice man at the market swore it wouldn't take too long for him to propose after he drank the potion. After I practice my signature a few times I write our names together. PETER AND CLARA, and I put them inside a nice big heart.

I hear Momma shouting for me and I sigh. I know she won't approve when Peter and I get together, cos he is a bunch older than me and she says seventeen is way too young to settle down. But I know she married Pop at nineteen, so she's just a hypocrite. And Peter's a real good catch - got his own job, his own place. There's that Maya of course to worry about, I think, and I push my pencil a bit too hard into the page and the point breaks. But once Peter's had the potion he won't remember that he likes her. I just need to work out how to get it to him.

Momma shouts again.

"Coming!" I shout. I know she wants me to go to that dumb Valentine's market and help her sell quilts. Ugh. But Peter might be around town, so I check my hair is nice before I go down.

***


This punch just don't look too appetising. I sigh and shout for Clara again. What is that girl doing? Probably dreaming about that barman. She thinks I don't know she's moony about him. I'm just glad he's got a sweetheart, or else he might go for my Clara - she's real pretty and men like adoring girls. He's much too old for her. I taste the punch and it's real nice, course it is, made from our fruits, but the colour just don't pop. Feeling a bit guilty, I get out some food colourant and drop it in, and it goes a nice reddish colour. That's about right for Valentine's, ain't it? I stopper up the barrel. Clara comes down.

"Get those quilts in the cart, will you?" I say, hustling her out and then getting the punch on the wagon. Roads are clear, so we get set up easy. Just a few stalls for this - jewellery, flowers, all kinds of novelties. I put out the prettiest quilts - maybe some guy'll think one'd make a nice present for his wife, and more practical than earbobs - and set up the punch.

"Free punch, sir?" I say, holding out a cup. After a bit of prodding I get Clara dishing up punch too. Hopefully it'll be a good day.

[OPEN]
[Closed]
[identity profile] npc-excolo.livejournal.com
Sunday, February 14th
Valentine's Day


I sit on my bed with my legs crossed, writing real careful in my notebook. MRS CLARA GRANGER I write, all tidy, then underneath I practice my signature. Clara Granger. That nice man at the market swore it wouldn't take too long for him to propose after he drank the potion. After I practice my signature a few times I write our names together. PETER AND CLARA, and I put them inside a nice big heart.

I hear Momma shouting for me and I sigh. I know she won't approve when Peter and I get together, cos he is a bunch older than me and she says seventeen is way too young to settle down. But I know she married Pop at nineteen, so she's just a hypocrite. And Peter's a real good catch - got his own job, his own place. There's that Maya of course to worry about, I think, and I push my pencil a bit too hard into the page and the point breaks. But once Peter's had the potion he won't remember that he likes her. I just need to work out how to get it to him.

Momma shouts again.

"Coming!" I shout. I know she wants me to go to that dumb Valentine's market and help her sell quilts. Ugh. But Peter might be around town, so I check my hair is nice before I go down.

***


This punch just don't look too appetising. I sigh and shout for Clara again. What is that girl doing? Probably dreaming about that barman. She thinks I don't know she's moony about him. I'm just glad he's got a sweetheart, or else he might go for my Clara - she's real pretty and men like adoring girls. He's much too old for her. I taste the punch and it's real nice, course it is, made from our fruits, but the colour just don't pop. Feeling a bit guilty, I get out some food colourant and drop it in, and it goes a nice reddish colour. That's about right for Valentine's, ain't it? I stopper up the barrel. Clara comes down.

"Get those quilts in the cart, will you?" I say, hustling her out and then getting the punch on the wagon. Roads are clear, so we get set up easy. Just a few stalls for this - jewellery, flowers, all kinds of novelties. I put out the prettiest quilts - maybe some guy'll think one'd make a nice present for his wife, and more practical than earbobs - and set up the punch.

"Free punch, sir?" I say, holding out a cup. After a bit of prodding I get Clara dishing up punch too. Hopefully it'll be a good day.

[OPEN]
[Closed]

January 2014

S M T W T F S
   1 2 3 4
567 891011
12131415 161718
192021222324 25
2627 28 29 30 31 

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Page Summary

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 22nd, 2017 04:35 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios