|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Tue Mar 17, 2009 8:25 am
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu May 21, 2009 5:55 pm
{part 2 - in which James has time for introspection }
The day had not started off well.
James tugged ineffectually at the trinket chained firmly 'round his neck, certain that textual hallucinations were the symptom of a serious brain tumor - after all, he could not POSSIBLY have been given a magic charm by an alien which would at some point turn into a child of godhead.
Clearly.
"Mf," James said weakly, trying to cut the thin chain with a pair of safety scissors. "Come-off-"
But the chain did not want to cut, did not want to break. The charm tinkled amiably as James struggled, ignorant to the distress it was causing him. James pushed the scissors together with all his strength and gave a yelp when the scissor blades gave a great sundering crack and fell to the floor in shards.
"Ah," James said dolefully, sitting down heavily on the floor. "I see."
He looked over his glasses at the charm. It was a pretty thing, really. Bit feminine, but beggars couldn't be choosers, could they? James sighed and tucked the charm under his sweater, sitting dolefully with his hands in his lap. Even if he did get a child out of this, what could he possibly do? He was a librarian, for heaven's sake. He didn't know how to act around other people at all.
...but then, maybe this would be a good thing. A growing experience - James had no immediate family that wanted anything to do with him, next to no friends due to his own social ineptitude, and...well, James had to admit to himself that being alone was lonely business. Someone to talk to and care for could be just what he needed. Happiness is hollow if it goes unshared.
Nodding resolutely to himself, James picked absently at the pendant, resting his head against the wall. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all...
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu May 21, 2009 6:01 pm
{part 3 - in which James goes to bed a hermit and loner for the last time }
The day that had not started well had turned out alright in the end.
James settled into bed in his pinstripe pajamas, who had the scent of cedar and mothballs ingrained into the very molecules of the threads. He didn't mind the smell, it reminded him of home - before his father had unceremoniously brushed him out of it, anyway. James didn't resent it, though. He was sure Father had had a very good reason - probably.
Taking off his glasses and setting them precisely on the bedside table, James rested his head on the edge of his pillow and looked up at his ceiling. He'd often watch the ceiling as he dozed off at night; the stucco and cracks turned to pictures that seemed to shift like living things if you stared long enough. James could see the stories that flowed over the water stains and damp-bloated bubbles, the cracks and the years of ingrained dust. As James dozed off, he was watching stars and the goliath, deliberate arm of a galaxy sweep across the ceiling of his little room, an infinite turn of the cosmos. It was a comforting thing to fall asleep to, and soon James had drifted off completely.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu May 21, 2009 6:10 pm
{ part 4 - in which a godling comes into the picture }
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
