What a nice night for a morning.

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

[In the early dark of Thursday, March 25 (day 298)]
[Glass and Iago's apartment at Sentinel House]

Woke up in the dark and couldn't sleep, and after lying abed and listening to the wind and the thin taps of rain, I got up and dressed, nightshirt and sweater and socks, and went to the kitchen. Not minded t'coax up a proper fire, but I've peppermint tea already brewed and pour some of that into a cup, set it on the stove to warm a little.

Nothing to do, it's an odd feeling. If it weren't yet Wednesday's night I'd maybe go out and down the graveyard, but there's poor luck to that and think Iago'd worry aside. Back to my workroom, smell of dry greens and young wood, and nothing to do there that wouldn't take longer than I care to spend on it.

Go back for my tea and find the book I said I'd try for, some tangle of a play with too few names and too many airs that's yet leaving me smiling, and sit back down on the bed in the dark. Draw up the blankets and quilt and'm... not reading, exactly, more glancing over the pages and then pausing to think for a little. After a while think Iago's due t'be home soon, and it's enough t'smile over, and I get up and light a candle for him and go back to waiting.

[Open to Iago]
[Closed - continues here]

What a nice night for a morning.

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

[In the early dark of Thursday, March 25 (day 298)]
[Glass and Iago's apartment at Sentinel House]

Woke up in the dark and couldn't sleep, and after lying abed and listening to the wind and the thin taps of rain, I got up and dressed, nightshirt and sweater and socks, and went to the kitchen. Not minded t'coax up a proper fire, but I've peppermint tea already brewed and pour some of that into a cup, set it on the stove to warm a little.

Nothing to do, it's an odd feeling. If it weren't yet Wednesday's night I'd maybe go out and down the graveyard, but there's poor luck to that and think Iago'd worry aside. Back to my workroom, smell of dry greens and young wood, and nothing to do there that wouldn't take longer than I care to spend on it.

Go back for my tea and find the book I said I'd try for, some tangle of a play with too few names and too many airs that's yet leaving me smiling, and sit back down on the bed in the dark. Draw up the blankets and quilt and'm... not reading, exactly, more glancing over the pages and then pausing to think for a little. After a while think Iago's due t'be home soon, and it's enough t'smile over, and I get up and light a candle for him and go back to waiting.

[Open to Iago]
[Closed - continues here]