Sparks jumped from the flint and stone that I held loosely to a small pile of tinder, catching and sputtering in the dark. I held the small flame to the wick of the lantern on the table. And the next, and the next. Soon the room was filled with the soft glow of lamplight, and warmth began radiating through the chilly room; shadows retreating to the far corners.
I worked at the laces of my bodice with numb fingers, pausing occasionally to hold them over an open flame, trying to restore some feeling. I let out a breath of relief when at last the constricting garment gave way and I could breathe easier.
"Mistress, Anne? Do you need any help?"
I thought for a moment before answering, "Alright Jane, come in."
Jane entered the room quietly, almost timidly. She was a small waif of a girl, not more than twelve I would have guessed. Given over to the great houses service by her parents for a pittance of money that I knew would not last a month.
I watched Jane move quietly around the chamber, her eyes downcast, almost fearful of being noticed, yet determined to do her work.
I slipped out of the bodice and the skirt and handed them to Jane who folded them precisely and placed them in the wardrobe. She removed my dressing gown and a soft robe and helped me into them before picking up a brush.
I sank into a low chair and hummed a little with pleasure as I felt the brush move rhythmically through my hair; Jane's soft, child hands, untangling my long black locks before loosely braiding it and tying it off with a ribbon.
Jane placed the warming pan filled with coals from the community fire between the sheets of my bed and turned down the covers. "Will you be needing anything else Mistress Anne?" she asked quietly.
"No Jane, thank you," I said gently and watched her move towards the door.
The little girl remained in my thoughts long after she silently slipped from the room to seek her own bed in a far, cold servants room.
Saturday, April 9, 2011
Chris, Student
Chris squinted at the italicized font and sighed, raked a hand through his hair in frustration. He reached out and pressed the ‘pause’ button on the recorder and attempted to sound out the words.
“Day-zhoor? Day-zhoor-ay?”
“Talking to yourself again?” his roommate Evan asked.
Chris held up the thick law tome. “How do you pronounce this phrase?” He pointed to de jure.
Evan shrugged. “Not a lawyer, man.” And he went back to his chemistry and punk music.
“Thanks anyway.” Chris tugged his headphones back on and pressed the button to resume recording, continued reading. “ ‘A corporation formed according to legal formalities is a corporation de jure. If a corporation is not formed de jure, it may still be considered a corporation de facto...’”
After a while he got into the rhythm of reading, and he felt the words roll smoothly off his tongue even though he didn’t really understand any of what he was reading. He’d read so many textbooks on so many topics that they started to blur together. But as he read, he gazed at the photograph pinned above his desk, of Sarah and her guide dog, and thought, She doesn’t know I’m alive, but she depends on my voice.
He finished the chapter and stopped the tape, popped it out of the machine and scrawled Corporations, Chapter One on the label. He had to deliver it to the student support center and then get on with his own homework. Maybe, on his way across campus, he would see Sarah and Diane sitting on the grass, basking in the sun, picture-perfect and completely oblivious to it.
Chris scooped up his jacket and headed for the door, and the phone started to ring. Evan was closest, but he continued bobbing his head to his music and balancing chemical equations. Chris sighed and crossed the room, scooped up the phone.
“Hello?”
“Dear, it’s your mother.”
Chris winced. She sounded more frail than usual. “Hi, Mom. What’s going on? What can I do for you?”
“I got a call from the pharmacy again today...”
Of course. The creditors had come calling again. Chris let her words wash over him, making humming noises in all the right places. When she was done, he had to resist the urge to slam the receiver back into place. Then he stared down at his knuckles, red and swollen and scraped raw in several places, and he picked the receiver back up, dialed.
“Hey, Matt? Yeah, it’s Chris. Tell Tony it’s on tonight. I’ll meet him down at The Pit. Yeah, bare knuckles. Bring some sports tape. Put me down three-to-one on me, all right?” He glanced over at Evan, but he was lost in his music.
Good.
He probably wouldn’t notice when Chris came back after midnight with a new black eye. Chris shrugged on his jacket, grabbed the tape, and slipped out the door. He did stupid things for the people he loved.
(Written by Nagi)
“Day-zhoor? Day-zhoor-ay?”
“Talking to yourself again?” his roommate Evan asked.
Chris held up the thick law tome. “How do you pronounce this phrase?” He pointed to de jure.
Evan shrugged. “Not a lawyer, man.” And he went back to his chemistry and punk music.
“Thanks anyway.” Chris tugged his headphones back on and pressed the button to resume recording, continued reading. “ ‘A corporation formed according to legal formalities is a corporation de jure. If a corporation is not formed de jure, it may still be considered a corporation de facto...’”
After a while he got into the rhythm of reading, and he felt the words roll smoothly off his tongue even though he didn’t really understand any of what he was reading. He’d read so many textbooks on so many topics that they started to blur together. But as he read, he gazed at the photograph pinned above his desk, of Sarah and her guide dog, and thought, She doesn’t know I’m alive, but she depends on my voice.
He finished the chapter and stopped the tape, popped it out of the machine and scrawled Corporations, Chapter One on the label. He had to deliver it to the student support center and then get on with his own homework. Maybe, on his way across campus, he would see Sarah and Diane sitting on the grass, basking in the sun, picture-perfect and completely oblivious to it.
Chris scooped up his jacket and headed for the door, and the phone started to ring. Evan was closest, but he continued bobbing his head to his music and balancing chemical equations. Chris sighed and crossed the room, scooped up the phone.
“Hello?”
“Dear, it’s your mother.”
Chris winced. She sounded more frail than usual. “Hi, Mom. What’s going on? What can I do for you?”
“I got a call from the pharmacy again today...”
Of course. The creditors had come calling again. Chris let her words wash over him, making humming noises in all the right places. When she was done, he had to resist the urge to slam the receiver back into place. Then he stared down at his knuckles, red and swollen and scraped raw in several places, and he picked the receiver back up, dialed.
“Hey, Matt? Yeah, it’s Chris. Tell Tony it’s on tonight. I’ll meet him down at The Pit. Yeah, bare knuckles. Bring some sports tape. Put me down three-to-one on me, all right?” He glanced over at Evan, but he was lost in his music.
Good.
He probably wouldn’t notice when Chris came back after midnight with a new black eye. Chris shrugged on his jacket, grabbed the tape, and slipped out the door. He did stupid things for the people he loved.
(Written by Nagi)
Night in the Day
"Sarah."
I raised my head from off of my folded arms when I heard my mother call my name. I knew she couldn't see me unless I sat up, the grass was to long for that. I sighed at the tone in my mothers voice and let my head fall back onto my arms again, content to not be found; if only for a few moments longer. I closed my eyes and let the sun warm my skin to a tingle before turning my face away from the warmth. A light breeze rustled the grass and cooled my skin before passing on to the South.
"Sarah!"
I rolled over in the grass and covered my head with my arms. I knew I couldn't hide for much longer.
"Diane!"
From beside me Diane jumped to all fours and shook herself out. I knew that mom could see her, knew she knew where I was. I drew in a breath and sat up, running my fingers through my hair to dislodge any stray grass that had gotten tangled up in it and stood up.
I felt Diane brush against my leg and I reached out for the harness, gripping the soft foam handle loosely.
"Home. Diana," I said and let her lead me back to the house.
I raised my head from off of my folded arms when I heard my mother call my name. I knew she couldn't see me unless I sat up, the grass was to long for that. I sighed at the tone in my mothers voice and let my head fall back onto my arms again, content to not be found; if only for a few moments longer. I closed my eyes and let the sun warm my skin to a tingle before turning my face away from the warmth. A light breeze rustled the grass and cooled my skin before passing on to the South.
"Sarah!"
I rolled over in the grass and covered my head with my arms. I knew I couldn't hide for much longer.
"Diane!"
From beside me Diane jumped to all fours and shook herself out. I knew that mom could see her, knew she knew where I was. I drew in a breath and sat up, running my fingers through my hair to dislodge any stray grass that had gotten tangled up in it and stood up.
I felt Diane brush against my leg and I reached out for the harness, gripping the soft foam handle loosely.
"Home. Diana," I said and let her lead me back to the house.
Nothing
My name is Shane.
At least that's what they tell me. Anything that came before waking up in the hospital is lost to me. All I can remember is opening my eyes and seeing bright fluorescent lights above my head and hearing a beeping to my left.
I remember taking a deep breath and trying to clear my dry throat; it was scratchy and sore, as if it hadn't been used in a long time.
"Hello?" I called out, and suddenly I was surrounded by many people; some checking machines, and others checking me and asking me questions that I couldn't answer. All I could say was, "I don't know."
It felt like that was all I could say for the longest time. "What's you're name?... I don't know...Where are you from...I don't know... Do you know what happened to you...I don't know..." I felt like a broken record.
After what seemed like forever they all went away; left me to my thoughts; though those were rather blank as well. It was like a soft black wall that I could push against, but I couldn't get through it. Whatever was beyond the wall stayed hidden from me.
I sat in silent thought for a long time, only interrupted when a young woman brought in a few things and placed them in my lap. A wallet, keys, and a few papers.
I flipped open the wallet to reveal the face of a smiling young man; dark brown hair and laughing bright blue eyes. The name read Shane Briarwood. Five foot ten, one hundred and sixty-two pounds. He lived in a city in California.
I set aside the wallet and picked up the keys. It was a simple set of keys. Two brass keys on a ring as well as some type of car key; but to what kind of car I couldn't tell. I set the keys next to the wallet
I next picked up the papers. They were covered in close neat writing, addresses and names. Snatches of poetry, random and unfinished. Nothing was familiar.
"Mr. Briarwood?" a voice said from the door.
I assumed I was being spoken to so I turned my head towards the voice.
"Mr. Briarwood, you had quite an accident. Can you remember what happened?" the doctor said.
I blinked. The name held no recognition for me.
"Mr. Briarwood?"
...Nothing...
At least that's what they tell me. Anything that came before waking up in the hospital is lost to me. All I can remember is opening my eyes and seeing bright fluorescent lights above my head and hearing a beeping to my left.
I remember taking a deep breath and trying to clear my dry throat; it was scratchy and sore, as if it hadn't been used in a long time.
"Hello?" I called out, and suddenly I was surrounded by many people; some checking machines, and others checking me and asking me questions that I couldn't answer. All I could say was, "I don't know."
It felt like that was all I could say for the longest time. "What's you're name?... I don't know...Where are you from...I don't know... Do you know what happened to you...I don't know..." I felt like a broken record.
After what seemed like forever they all went away; left me to my thoughts; though those were rather blank as well. It was like a soft black wall that I could push against, but I couldn't get through it. Whatever was beyond the wall stayed hidden from me.
I sat in silent thought for a long time, only interrupted when a young woman brought in a few things and placed them in my lap. A wallet, keys, and a few papers.
I flipped open the wallet to reveal the face of a smiling young man; dark brown hair and laughing bright blue eyes. The name read Shane Briarwood. Five foot ten, one hundred and sixty-two pounds. He lived in a city in California.
I set aside the wallet and picked up the keys. It was a simple set of keys. Two brass keys on a ring as well as some type of car key; but to what kind of car I couldn't tell. I set the keys next to the wallet
I next picked up the papers. They were covered in close neat writing, addresses and names. Snatches of poetry, random and unfinished. Nothing was familiar.
"Mr. Briarwood?" a voice said from the door.
I assumed I was being spoken to so I turned my head towards the voice.
"Mr. Briarwood, you had quite an accident. Can you remember what happened?" the doctor said.
I blinked. The name held no recognition for me.
"Mr. Briarwood?"
...Nothing...
Summer Rounds
Like burning shades of golden twine;
We dance in summer rounds.
An emerald sea beneath our feet
Whispers, as the sun goes down.
Azure mantle round our heads,
Pearl white clouds our crown.
Diamond stars to kiss our brows
As ebony night enshrouds the land.
We dance in summer rounds.
An emerald sea beneath our feet
Whispers, as the sun goes down.
Azure mantle round our heads,
Pearl white clouds our crown.
Diamond stars to kiss our brows
As ebony night enshrouds the land.
I'm Bryan
Bryan straitened his tie nervously as he tapped Amanda on the shoulder. The dance was in full swing and he had been watching her for a few minutes from across the room. He swallowed in awe as Amanda turned to face him. She was in a floor length burgundy gown, a simple flowing design that accented her figure perfectly; her hair was curled and twisted into a simple up-do that left a few tendrils framing her face.
Amanda smiled brightly as she turned and saw Mark standing behind her. "Mark!" she said with surprise, "you came."
Bryan nodded mutely, looking for all the world as if he wanted to run.
"I'm glad you came," Amanda said as she looked him up and down with appreciation. He was in a black suit with a emerald green tie. She thought it was cute how he looked nervous.
"Would," Bryan had to clear his throat, "would you care to dance?"
Amanda smiled up at him, "I would love to," she said as she took his hand.
Bryan pulled her close and fell into an easy circling pattern as a slow song came over the speakers. He noted that she smelled of lilacs.
They danced in silence, but Amanda didn't mind the silence. It was nice not to have the pressure of finding a topic of conversation, to just enjoy dancing and being close to someone.
The song was over before Bryan worked up the nerve to say what he had to tell her.
"Thank you for the dance," Amanda said as she smiled at him. AS she turned to walk back towards the music Bryan reached out and took her hand.
Amanda looked down at his hand wrapped around hers and back up at him, a question clearly expressed in her eyes.
"Can I talk to you?" Bryan asked quietly.
"Okay." Amanda said.
Bryan guided her through the crowds of people to the edge of the room where it was quieter. "Now that you can hear me," Bryan said with a half smile, "I have something I need to tell you."
"What is it?" Amanda asked, her brow furrowing prettily in confusion.
Bryan drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm not Mark," he said quietly, "I'm Bryan."
Amanda frowned a little, "I thought you were Mark. Then Mark didn't come?" she asked, "He said he wasn't planning on it, but I thought when I saw you that he had decided to come after all," she finished.
Bryan blinked slowly, "No, Amanda. Mark is at home. I'm Bryan."
"Yes, you said that. Is Mark not feeling well? Did he send you to keep me company?" Amanda asked.
Bryan reached out and touched a tendril of hair, "Amanda, you never knew Mark," Bryan said. He watched as the information sunk in.
"You're not Mark," she said as she took a step back.
"Look, I can explain," Bryan pleaded.
"Then please do so," Amanda said as she crossed her arms over her chest.
Bryan took a breath and related the whole story. All the times that he and his twin had switched places. The mix up with Jason, and how as time went on he felt more and more like he couldn't tell her, that she would think that he had been purposely lying to her.
Amanda took in the whole story, listened intently to all he had to say. "So you are Bryan," she said at last.
Bryan nodded, "yes. I'm Bryan." He waited anxiously for her next words, watched as she thought through everything, saw in her eyes as she reached the end of her musings.
"So you can do more than 'dance a little.'" she said as her mouth twitched up into a grin.
Bryan let out a breath of air he didn't know he was holding and smiled widely, "Yeah. I can do more than 'dance a little'," he echoed as he pulled her onto the dance floor.
Amanda smiled brightly as she turned and saw Mark standing behind her. "Mark!" she said with surprise, "you came."
Bryan nodded mutely, looking for all the world as if he wanted to run.
"I'm glad you came," Amanda said as she looked him up and down with appreciation. He was in a black suit with a emerald green tie. She thought it was cute how he looked nervous.
"Would," Bryan had to clear his throat, "would you care to dance?"
Amanda smiled up at him, "I would love to," she said as she took his hand.
Bryan pulled her close and fell into an easy circling pattern as a slow song came over the speakers. He noted that she smelled of lilacs.
They danced in silence, but Amanda didn't mind the silence. It was nice not to have the pressure of finding a topic of conversation, to just enjoy dancing and being close to someone.
The song was over before Bryan worked up the nerve to say what he had to tell her.
"Thank you for the dance," Amanda said as she smiled at him. AS she turned to walk back towards the music Bryan reached out and took her hand.
Amanda looked down at his hand wrapped around hers and back up at him, a question clearly expressed in her eyes.
"Can I talk to you?" Bryan asked quietly.
"Okay." Amanda said.
Bryan guided her through the crowds of people to the edge of the room where it was quieter. "Now that you can hear me," Bryan said with a half smile, "I have something I need to tell you."
"What is it?" Amanda asked, her brow furrowing prettily in confusion.
Bryan drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm not Mark," he said quietly, "I'm Bryan."
Amanda frowned a little, "I thought you were Mark. Then Mark didn't come?" she asked, "He said he wasn't planning on it, but I thought when I saw you that he had decided to come after all," she finished.
Bryan blinked slowly, "No, Amanda. Mark is at home. I'm Bryan."
"Yes, you said that. Is Mark not feeling well? Did he send you to keep me company?" Amanda asked.
Bryan reached out and touched a tendril of hair, "Amanda, you never knew Mark," Bryan said. He watched as the information sunk in.
"You're not Mark," she said as she took a step back.
"Look, I can explain," Bryan pleaded.
"Then please do so," Amanda said as she crossed her arms over her chest.
Bryan took a breath and related the whole story. All the times that he and his twin had switched places. The mix up with Jason, and how as time went on he felt more and more like he couldn't tell her, that she would think that he had been purposely lying to her.
Amanda took in the whole story, listened intently to all he had to say. "So you are Bryan," she said at last.
Bryan nodded, "yes. I'm Bryan." He waited anxiously for her next words, watched as she thought through everything, saw in her eyes as she reached the end of her musings.
"So you can do more than 'dance a little.'" she said as her mouth twitched up into a grin.
Bryan let out a breath of air he didn't know he was holding and smiled widely, "Yeah. I can do more than 'dance a little'," he echoed as he pulled her onto the dance floor.
Tell Her The Truth
"What's been eating you lately?" Mark asked as he flopped down next to his brother on the bed.
"Do you know Amanda?" Bryan asked.
"Which one? There are quite a few Amandas at school," Mark said rolling his eyes. He was sure it was just another of his brothers crushes. It would go away in about two weeks.
"Amanda Hollingworth."
"Oh." Mark was taken aback a little. Amanda Hollingworth was not Bryan's typical girl. Mark reviewed in his mind what he knew of her. Pretty, studious, a little on the quiet side but very nice.
"I don't know her well," Mark said at last, "mostly in passing. What makes you mention her?"
"Because she thinks I'm you," Bryan said as he sat up.
Mark puzzled over this for a moment, "why would she think that you are me? Not that people don't get us confused all the time, but how did you two meet and why would she think you're me?"
"Remember that Dance Committee that you were supposed to be on?"
"Yeah. I vaguely remember that. What has that got to do with it?"
"Well Jason grabbed me one day after school thinking I was you and dragged me off to the meeting. I wasn't really paying attention and I ended up on the music committee with Amanda. She thinks I'm you."
"I don't see how this is a problem. Just tell her that you're Bryan. I don't know her all that well anyway."
"What if she thinks I've been lying to her on purpose, having a laugh at her expense."
"And what if she doesn't?" Mark asked, "what if she realizes that it was a mistake and let's it go."
"Then how would you account for me not telling her before that I was really Bryan?"
Mark was silent for a moment. After a few seconds of thought he said, "look, do you like her?"
Bryan gave him his 'are you that dim' look.
"Then tell her the truth," Mark said. "You can't build any sort of relationship without trust. You have to trust that she will see the situation for what it is, and she will have to trust that you had no intention of deceiving her."
"You're right," Bryan said as he jumped off the bed and walked out of the room.
"Of course I'm right," Mark said to the empty room.
"Do you know Amanda?" Bryan asked.
"Which one? There are quite a few Amandas at school," Mark said rolling his eyes. He was sure it was just another of his brothers crushes. It would go away in about two weeks.
"Amanda Hollingworth."
"Oh." Mark was taken aback a little. Amanda Hollingworth was not Bryan's typical girl. Mark reviewed in his mind what he knew of her. Pretty, studious, a little on the quiet side but very nice.
"I don't know her well," Mark said at last, "mostly in passing. What makes you mention her?"
"Because she thinks I'm you," Bryan said as he sat up.
Mark puzzled over this for a moment, "why would she think that you are me? Not that people don't get us confused all the time, but how did you two meet and why would she think you're me?"
"Remember that Dance Committee that you were supposed to be on?"
"Yeah. I vaguely remember that. What has that got to do with it?"
"Well Jason grabbed me one day after school thinking I was you and dragged me off to the meeting. I wasn't really paying attention and I ended up on the music committee with Amanda. She thinks I'm you."
"I don't see how this is a problem. Just tell her that you're Bryan. I don't know her all that well anyway."
"What if she thinks I've been lying to her on purpose, having a laugh at her expense."
"And what if she doesn't?" Mark asked, "what if she realizes that it was a mistake and let's it go."
"Then how would you account for me not telling her before that I was really Bryan?"
Mark was silent for a moment. After a few seconds of thought he said, "look, do you like her?"
Bryan gave him his 'are you that dim' look.
"Then tell her the truth," Mark said. "You can't build any sort of relationship without trust. You have to trust that she will see the situation for what it is, and she will have to trust that you had no intention of deceiving her."
"You're right," Bryan said as he jumped off the bed and walked out of the room.
"Of course I'm right," Mark said to the empty room.
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