Ten paces and twenty were accomplished. Could she make it further? I want to walk to town. The bands left her legs, and she tried to walk left and was stopped, the bands back in place. She moved slightly right, and the bands vanished. Town was to the right. At least the bands had some functional use. Her legs moved at an oddly regular pace, on the edge of her control. The joy at accomplishing something larger than a few paces at the time dampened the panic she normally would have known. Body working outside of Mind, there was nothing more frightening. The crest of hill from where the tripod men had appeared waxed and waned under her feet, and the horses pondered the thought that had led her away in such a strange and rhythmic manner. Dipping toward the earth, the sun began to stretch the shadows. She walked.
~~~
a summer's morning splashed myriad colors on the stone floor, and lazy notes floated off of the violin and mingled with the scent of cake. the garden strained to look vibrant, knowing it should love the sun, but it longed for rain and grew green at the children racing to shrinking lake. a kitten nearly snatched a mouse. she ran away at her own prowess. the long lady huffed in amusement before dribbling tea on her chin. she wiped her chin and looked left. someone was coming. twelve or thirteen hours away. it would be close, but she could be ready. a cultish girl, older than most. the kitten bounced into her lap for its kisses, and the long lady complied before wrapping it up in her arms and gliding back into the house. the clock would not wait. a quick eye into the oven. four minutes longer. she rinsed out her cup and placed it on top of the breakfast plate in the sink. dishes fell to the end of today’s list. from the pantry cabinet she pulled the large stock pot, and filled it half full with water and dropped in three leaves from the creeping vine that had overcome the kitchen window. this she placed on the stove on high flame and left it to boil.
out in the yard, her long legs stepped over the gate meant for children and dogs and made their way into the depths of the garden. she needed roots and herbs.
Here is post six! What is the lady making? Is it good or bad or neither? Is she even a good cook?! These are things I think the long lady must answer herself. Posts: One, Two, Three, Four, & Five
~~~
a summer's morning splashed myriad colors on the stone floor, and lazy notes floated off of the violin and mingled with the scent of cake. the garden strained to look vibrant, knowing it should love the sun, but it longed for rain and grew green at the children racing to shrinking lake. a kitten nearly snatched a mouse. she ran away at her own prowess. the long lady huffed in amusement before dribbling tea on her chin. she wiped her chin and looked left. someone was coming. twelve or thirteen hours away. it would be close, but she could be ready. a cultish girl, older than most. the kitten bounced into her lap for its kisses, and the long lady complied before wrapping it up in her arms and gliding back into the house. the clock would not wait. a quick eye into the oven. four minutes longer. she rinsed out her cup and placed it on top of the breakfast plate in the sink. dishes fell to the end of today’s list. from the pantry cabinet she pulled the large stock pot, and filled it half full with water and dropped in three leaves from the creeping vine that had overcome the kitchen window. this she placed on the stove on high flame and left it to boil.
out in the yard, her long legs stepped over the gate meant for children and dogs and made their way into the depths of the garden. she needed roots and herbs.
Here is post six! What is the lady making? Is it good or bad or neither? Is she even a good cook?! These are things I think the long lady must answer herself. Posts: One, Two, Three, Four, & Five
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