this is your ego. (![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} augustfai) wrote,@ 2006-08-29 20:19:00 |
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100quills, LBtM 1&2
title: letters between the meadow, pt. 1
rating: G
prompt: #7, 'foot'
words: 278
summary: Luna seems to have misplaced her left foot.
notes: I'm pretty sure I've mentioned it before, but what separates Luna and Zacharias' house in this setting is a meadow. Thus, 'between the meadow'.
title: letters between the meadow, 2
rating: G
prompt: #16, 'bells'
summary: Zacharias protests.
title: letters between the meadow, pt. 1
rating: G
prompt: #7, 'foot'
words: 278
summary: Luna seems to have misplaced her left foot.
notes: I'm pretty sure I've mentioned it before, but what separates Luna and Zacharias' house in this setting is a meadow. Thus, 'between the meadow'.
Dear Zacharias,
I seem to have misplaced my left foot. I had it yesterday, I’m sure, when we were walking through the forest and then you started running and I had to do the same to keep up with you. I knew I had it then because I could feel it humming along right with the rest of my body, going bmmmm bmmmm bmmmmm, as we ran, first solo-together then hand-in-hand (which helped a lot, thank you for that).
Then we walked back because I told you I was tired, and still you held my hand the whole way and told me not to trip over roots and I said I wouldn’t, but I did, didn’t I? And that’s when I seemed to have lost it. It just came right off. Oh, I still have it, of course. Right on my foot. Wiggly toes and all that. But it’s not the same; I can’t feel it like I used to…it even moves the wrong way.
Daddy says it may be twisted, but I can’t be so sure. I rather liked my left foot—you wouldn’t mind coming over to help me look for it, would you? It might have been left behind where I tripped. Or unfastened while I dreamt, because my mother told me I tended to float away during my dreams. Either way, I’m sure that you’ll find it for me, even if you do keep on complaining that it is physically impossible to really lose a foot except by violent means.
After all, Zacharias, the last time I said I’d lost my lips and even though I couldn’t talk you found them fine; absolutely fine.
~Luna
I seem to have misplaced my left foot. I had it yesterday, I’m sure, when we were walking through the forest and then you started running and I had to do the same to keep up with you. I knew I had it then because I could feel it humming along right with the rest of my body, going bmmmm bmmmm bmmmmm, as we ran, first solo-together then hand-in-hand (which helped a lot, thank you for that).
Then we walked back because I told you I was tired, and still you held my hand the whole way and told me not to trip over roots and I said I wouldn’t, but I did, didn’t I? And that’s when I seemed to have lost it. It just came right off. Oh, I still have it, of course. Right on my foot. Wiggly toes and all that. But it’s not the same; I can’t feel it like I used to…it even moves the wrong way.
Daddy says it may be twisted, but I can’t be so sure. I rather liked my left foot—you wouldn’t mind coming over to help me look for it, would you? It might have been left behind where I tripped. Or unfastened while I dreamt, because my mother told me I tended to float away during my dreams. Either way, I’m sure that you’ll find it for me, even if you do keep on complaining that it is physically impossible to really lose a foot except by violent means.
After all, Zacharias, the last time I said I’d lost my lips and even though I couldn’t talk you found them fine; absolutely fine.
~Luna
title: letters between the meadow, 2
rating: G
prompt: #16, 'bells'
summary: Zacharias protests.
Luna,
I think it’s gone too far. It was one thing when you wanted to put the ribbon on Salamander (who, by the way, ate it right after you left), but now you’re going to put a bell on the tree so I know whenever you’ve put something in there? Look, Luna; if you ring a bell the whole of Ottery St. Catchpole is going to think something’s going on (besides, you know…this). I don’t put ribbons on my cats, and neither do I exchange letters with a girl who wants to ring a bell whenever she’s written one back to me. That, I’m afraid, is where I cross the line.
You could, I don’t know, tie a ribbon on the top branch so I know you’ve left me something (God knows I’d rather have you put those ribbons on the trees than on my cat). I’m okay with that. No alarming sounds are involved, and it’s not as easy to catch onto. And if somebody did find out, anyway, it’s not as if we’d be exploited for racy love letters, or anything.
Not that these are love letters, but…you know what I mean.
Also: please don’t lose any more ligaments. All that looking tires me out.
Yours,
Zach
I think it’s gone too far. It was one thing when you wanted to put the ribbon on Salamander (who, by the way, ate it right after you left), but now you’re going to put a bell on the tree so I know whenever you’ve put something in there? Look, Luna; if you ring a bell the whole of Ottery St. Catchpole is going to think something’s going on (besides, you know…this). I don’t put ribbons on my cats, and neither do I exchange letters with a girl who wants to ring a bell whenever she’s written one back to me. That, I’m afraid, is where I cross the line.
You could, I don’t know, tie a ribbon on the top branch so I know you’ve left me something (God knows I’d rather have you put those ribbons on the trees than on my cat). I’m okay with that. No alarming sounds are involved, and it’s not as easy to catch onto. And if somebody did find out, anyway, it’s not as if we’d be exploited for racy love letters, or anything.
Not that these are love letters, but…you know what I mean.
Also: please don’t lose any more ligaments. All that looking tires me out.
Yours,
Zach
