Use it up, wear it out, make it do, or do without.

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

[Later afternoon of Saturday, June 5 (day 270)]
[The corner of Main and Silk]

Three months back and it'd be growing dark, but summer on and the light's only mild and golden. The air's got a smell like garden dirt, soft and easy, and the blasted llygotwr's managing to take up the entire bed while I'm cleaning up the kitchen afore heading out.

Stop by the General Store, meaning to set hands on thread and needle; one of my shirts has a rip, and if I go by Dorian's I'd not get out without two new dresses and thirty seams that he'd go on about being for shaping. My hand's still stiff, but I can mend a tear. Open the door to the sound of the bell, and glance 'round.

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[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

Seems pleased I had the idea, but little more, and I'm thinking he's really not seeing the way of it. Or else he's grown calmer than I'd ever thought was in him at the mention of killing myself. Or else he caught the idea somewhere that setting yourself out to die for a god's only a joke, and doing so means sure they'll set it aside, send you home and take ram's blood or goat's heart in place of your own.

"I didn't end the dream," I say after a moment. "Only the snare it had 'round him, and him alone; and that was his will and calling to have it broken, not mine." Find the memory's easing me some... not enough for a smile, but the knots drawn low in my back and up through my shoulders loosen a touch, and when he mentions keeping watch for the sightless man I can smile a little.

"Iago," I say patient, taking him for not weighing it out rather than making a joke of it, "there's dozens in town as could be such as I remember. Not thinking there's enough to keep a watch on."

"Many of the wishes sound quite life-changing," he adds as Tulzcha comes back with the food. "I'm not quite sure that if I'd been in your place, that I could've been calm."

"Well," mild and smiling faint, "I was rather distracted from it all." Waking up to find out there'd been no stillbirth, that was a bloody shock. "Think the wound going foul was starting to tell on me... But folk manage well enough waking from a dream, and wasn't a greater upset than that, I think. Surely more troubling some ways, but no more harm done."

Agree that chance of survivng's not particular fine, surely not without maybe losing limbs, and turn on to matter of Alice. "And I missed the wide-eyed young miss' party. That, I do regret. I likely would have enjoyed the festivities. I'd not mind sending a gift along but truly, I haven't the faintest notion of what she'd like. Any suggestions, love?"

Shake my head over the question and pick up my sandwich. "Brought her a book on keeping house, as she seemed set such great store by managing that time I saw her at the General Store, but even that's a guess. Couldn't speak to aught else she cares for... Valmont may give you some word on that."