Posts tagged justforfun
Posts tagged justforfun
Rose propped herself up on her elbow and regarded Jack with some distaste. He was still asleep, which wasn’t unusual – he drank a lot these days, which led to a deep, wet kind of slumber from which he was almost impossible to wake. His chin was pressed to his chest and he snored hollowly. There wasn’t much of the boy left in him now; ten years of hard living in the slums of New York has stolen much of the enthusiasm that had drawn her to him in the first place. There was a new softness around his face, but he still had that hair, that perfect golden flop across the forehead, and his eyes, when they were focused, retained the old nomadic glee.
She levered herself up and clambered awkwardly over him, stepping lightly to avoid waking the twins. She walked into the bathroom and swore as she noticed that he’d covered the walls and mirror again with more of his ‘art’. Hands, he was always drawing those damn hands. Angrily, she tugged a few of them free and let them drift to the tiled floor, remembering how his little pencil sketches had enthralled her, then stopped as she caught sight of herself in the mirror.
‘Reflection’s changed a bit’ she thought, remembering the face that used to look back at her. A tooth was missing at the bottom left of her jaw, loosened originally by that bastard Cal, and tugged free by the nurse who lived downstairs when it’d started to blacken and ache. Her hair still held its color, thank god, but she’d cut it only a few days after leaving the ship, a symbolic nod to her new freedom, and it had never really grown back properly. She ran some water into the chipped sink and washed her face, relishing the early morning moments of privacy that were so few and far between.
There was a sudden sound of footsteps and the door was pushed open. A thin Italian man walked in, naked, idly scratching his chest hair.
‘Fabrizio!’ she exclaimed. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘Rose!’ he said, cupping his hands to his genitals. ‘I’m’a sorry! My wife kicked me out again… Jack said it were okay for me to stay’.
She sighed. ‘It’s fine’. She pushed past him, through the doorway, feeling as she did so him run one hand lightly across her bottom.
She walked back into the bedroom, where Jack was sitting at the edge of his bed with his head in his hands.
‘Are you alright?’ Rose asked, trying to turn the edge of impatience in her voice into something resembling concern.
‘Oh, yeah’ he mumbled to his knees. ‘Just drank like a man last night, that’s all’. She chuckled lightly at the old joke.
‘Are you going into work today?’ she asked.
‘No’ said Jack, looking at her for the first time. ‘I promised the boys that I’d…’
‘Oh Jack’, interjected Rose. ‘Not the cards. Not again’.
He stood and put his hands on her waist. ‘Come on, Rose. I’m a lucky guy. Remember how I came to be on the boat? A lucky hand of poker. I’m lucky. You’ll see. It’s just been a bad patch’. He put a hand to his mouth and stifled a burp that smelt of old beer.
Rose resisted leaning away from him, and tried to stop herself thinking the same thoughts that came back to her again and again – that maybe he should never have won, should never have been on the boat, never met her. She wouldn’t have jumped, really. Probably.
Jack ran his hands up her waist, across her back. ‘I’ll come back early tonight. We’ll put the twins to bed and have a night in, just me and you, okay?’ He smiled rakishly. ‘And maybe I’ll draw you. Like one of my French girls’.
She smiled faintly, wondering exactly how many French girls there had been in the last few years. ‘That sounds nice’.
He bent over, and she heard the faint sound of a fart escaping as he jerked up his trousers. ‘I tell ya Rose, I’m a lucky man. It’ll all come together. I’ve got a house, wonderful children…’ Fabrizio peered in through the doorway and gave a mock salute, one hand still covering his crotch, ‘…. great friends, and a beautiful woman’. He grabbed her again and pressed himself against her, pinching the roll of fat at her abdomen that she’d found so impossible to shift after the birth of the twins. ‘A perfect woman, still good enough to draw naked, even after all these years. So many women let themselves go, you know, but not you Rose. Yep, I’m a lucky man’. He planted a kiss on her cheek and sauntered into the bathroom.
Rose stood where she was, still feeling the pressure of his hands on her, sucking in her stomach. She spoke softly to herself.
‘I’ll never let go, Jack. I’ll never let go’.
N: Hi! Can I help you? You look like you could do with a helping hand!
L: I’m fine. Go away.
N: Are you sure? I have a flashlight!
L: Please go away.
N: Oh, I appreciate that you can do things for yourself. Girls can do anything! It’s just that… I have this flashlight, see? And it looks like you’ve been shot. Twice. In the head. I deduced that from the fact that you’re bleeding rather a lot. From the head. Also, I suspect you may have been buried alive. You’re very dirty. I think it entirely possible that someone tried to kill you. Perhaps your father. Or your brother. Or both! I’m very intuitive… I’m a sleuth, you know. An amateur sleuth! I have a lilac cardigan that you can borrow if you like? Only, you’d have to try not to bleed on it. Hannah bought it for me. She’s very kind. You’d fit it. You’re very thin. Boys like thin girls, that’s why I’m always trying to convince Bess to diet. You know…
L: (glares) Please, just fuck off.
N: You know, you really should remove those bullets. And maybe, you know, try wearing your hair in a different style. My hair is titian. Your hair looks like it might be red, under the dye. But that might be the blood.
L: Fuck off.
N: I would, I really would… Only, I’m trying to solve a mystery. And you look like you might be able to help me!
L: I really don’t think I can.
N: You haven’t seen a hidden staircase have you?
N: Or an hollow oak?
N: How about a brass-bound trunk?
N: An ivory charm? A crumbling wall? A moss-covered mansion? Well, have you seen Ned? He’s my boyfriend. He’s tall. And handsome. And athletic. I can’t seem to find him or George. And she’s always been jealous of me… You’re sure?
L: Just fuck o – actually, can I borrow your computer?
N: Oh, I don’t own a computer. I prefer just to use my brain. And this flashlight. Are you sure you don’t need my help? I can drive. Cars AND boats. I can cook. I speak French. I swim like a fish. Plus, I’m really good looking, like my father. I have titian hair. See?
(She shines the flashlight into her own face, temporarily blinding herself. Lisbeth moves to walk away)
N: Wait! Have you seen the girl with the dragon tattoo? Or the girl who kicked the hornest’s nest? Or the girl who played with fire?
L: Are they all the same person?
N: I think so. But I’m not sure. I’m solving the mystery, finding clues. You know. With my flashlight (smiles, flashes dimples)
L: She sounds stupid. That girl.
N: Yes, perhaps. But I suspect she’s not. I suspect she is merely misunderstood. I have a knack for things like that. You know, I think you might die. Soon. Would you like me to perform brain surgery? I’m pretty sure I could do it. I do have a flashlight, you know.
L: No, thank you. Goodbye.
(Starts walking away)
N: Goodbye! Good luck with the bleeding! Let me know if you see some disappearing diamonds! Or a vanishing veil! Or an elusive heiress!
Scarlett 3:55 PM
m losing you!
Like last time
I’ve lost you again
Call Ended2 minutes 22 seconds
s.a.r.howell 4:01 PM
Come back. It will work now.
Heathcliff and Dick are walking along a wharf on a warm summer’s day
D: I say, old chap! Jolly nice weather we’re having! I hope you’ve got your bathing costume on under your clothes, the waves are just super today!
H: The clouds are dark and filled with her dark image! The waves whisper her name like the wind through the branches of trees in the night… I cannot walk along this beach, but that I see her face before me – in the sand, in the water, in the very air I breathe!
D: Don’t worry, old boy. A dip will sort you out soon enough! Whoops!
Dick pushes Heathcliff off the wharf and into the water
H: Cur! Evil son of swine! How could thou lay one hand upon me, when my soul, the very deepest places of me are torn, and tossed in the gathering winds of the moor…
Dick dunks him under
H: Dog! Son of a dog! Cursed heir of Hareton, thou art nothing but a wretch, an evil apparition sent to keep me from her!
Dick dunks him under again, laughing
H: Curse you! Curse those demons that drive you! I hear the ghosts calling for me, whispering her name out of the shadows… I am tormented! Tormented!
Heathcliff swallows a mouthful of seawater
H: TORMENTED! How can I live, when she lives not to speak my name? How can I recognize my own face in the glass when mine – so foreign to my weeping eyes – is the very same face that she knew, that she loved? Oh, let me die! Let me die, that I might see her face again! That I might touch her lips! The lips of a thousand earthly souls shall not compare to the caress of hers that once knew my name! Oh! Cathy!
Heathcliff gives up his struggles to stay afloat and sinks beneath the surface. Dick pulls him back up with a fistful of his hair.
D: Goodness! You are feeling dramatic today aren’t you? Don’t forget, George is my cousin, so I know all about these tantrums that girls like you throw!
H: (briefly distracted) Did you just call me a woman, you impertinent young swine?
D: You’re just like George! With your curly hair and your shorts and your tantrums! I tell her, and I’ll tell you, you can dress just however you like, but girls will never be as good as boys, however hard they try. But buck up, old girl. Anne’s been at the oven all day, and I’m just panting at the thought of her scones. Come on, then, I’ll race you to the house. Hurry, won’t you, or Julian will eat them all, pig that he is.
Heathcliff stumbles out of the shallows and follows Dick up the beach, coughing
H: Cathy! Oh Cathy, my heart, my love, my mirrored soul… Wait, did you say scones? Do you have jam? Wait!
Scene: A forest. Dickon sits at the foot of a tree, whittling a piece of wood and watching a young deer drink at a stream. Edward enters, crouched.
D: Don’t tha’ move. It’d flight ‘im.
D: Tha’ cannae startle ‘im. If tha’ makes a quick move, tha’ will cause ‘im flight.
E: I’m a hundred years old. I’ve studied as a doctor. I’m a fucking genius. And I have no idea what you are talking about.
D: I move slow an’ speak gentle.
E: Yes, you certainly do. Very slow. Are you a werewolf? You smell like a dog.
D: (chuckles) Sometimes I think p’raps I’m a bird, or a fox, or a rabbit, or a squirrel, or even a beetle, an’ I don’t know it.
E: (moving closer) Really? A fox?
D: Aye. I’m one of ‘em. We mun become one o’ em’ if they might trust us. Aye, that we mun.
E: So… you’re an animal? Really an animal? You do smell like one.
D: ‘Ent naught as nice as the smell o’ the forest an’ the scent o’ good clean earth.
E: (moving closer) You smell good to me.
D: Eh-h-h-h. Many a day I jus’ sniff and sniff. My nose end fair quivers. I soak it up ‘til I’m as fat an’ hungry as a young fox… Thou hast a queer look on tha’s face.
E: I’m hungry. Ravenous, in fact.
D: Aye, thou puts me in mind o’ young Bella…
E: (startled) Bella?
D: Ah, don’ mind me, my mind jumps like a young rabbit. I meant young Mary. She looked a mite like you, all pale and contrary an’ ‘ungry. But there doesn’t seem to be no need for no one to be contrary when there’s flowers an’ such like, an’ such lots o’ friendly wild things runnin’ about makin’ homes for themselves, does there?
D: Thee mun eat thou’s victuals! A bit ‘o fat will do thee good. As might some sunshine… Thee art pale as poor Colin – afore he walked, that is.
E: You’re pretty fat. Actually, you remind me of Mike Newton. He’s fat.
D: Is that so? I mun meet ‘im then… I like all manner of folks, and all manner of folks find in me a friend. This Mike sounds like a bit o’ a’right. Ehhh – thou looks afrighted! Thinks I to myself I never set eyes on an uglier, sourer faced young ‘un, but tha’rt not half so ugly when it’s that way an’ there’s a bit o’ red in tha’ cheeks.
E: Did you just call me ugly?
The deer comes closer
D: Keep thee quiet, lad. We munnot stir. We munnot scarce breathe.
E: I never breathe. I’m a vampire.
D: Us must keep still a bit an’ try to look as if us was grass an’ trees an’ bushes…
D: Good, lad! Thee stands very still, like thee ‘art a tree or summat.
E: That’s because I’m a vampire.
D: Eh! Thee oughtn’t to stand there thinkin’ things like that. No lad could get well as thought them sort o’ things.
E: I’m already dead.
D: No! We mun get thee watchin’ an listenin’ an’ sniffin’ up th’ air an’ get thee just soaked through wi’ sunshine. An’ we munnot lose no time about it.
Dickon drags Edward out into the sun
D: Eh! Thee glows! Thee glows like the river, when th’ sun ‘its it jus’ right!
E: I told you. I’m a vampire. I can’t believe you called me ugly. I’m beautiful. I’m a statue carved of fucking marble. I’m a god. I’m going to eat my lunch now.
Edward moves to stalk the deer
D: Aye, that thy mun. Tha’ll get fat an’ tha’ll get as hungry as a young fox. Eh! We’ll have a lot o’ fun
E: You just called me a dog. I’m going to eat you. Fuck Carlisle. You’ll taste better than the deer.
D: (laughs) Eat me! Thee look’st as though thee could barely eat but a piece of bread! Thee…
Edward sucks Dickon dry and glances up at the sky. A red robin perched on a branch catches the bright red glint of his eyes and chirps merrily as the deer, catching the scent of blood, moves swiftly back into the cover of the forest.
A: Hello! I’m an orphan!
A: Don’t you just love the word orphan? It’s just so whimsical and wistful – I can just picture myself, sitting at the side of a road, with my chin in my hands gazing at the world, all alone. Of course, in my imaginings, I have dimples, and hair that is long and thick and just as black as the raven’s wing. There is something so ethereal about black hair, don’t you think? So romantic. No romantic heroine ever had red hair, I don’t imagine…
K: My sister’s friend has red hair. But she’s kind of annoying. Her little sister can’t even spell. She said that ‘Crushers’ should be spelt with a ‘K’ but I think…
A: Oh! Ever so many people think I am annoying. Marilla says I could talk the ear off the whole town given half a chance. But I do like talking. There is just so much for one to say! Marilla says that orphans shouldn’t annoy people. She says that there are so many orphans in the world that those who come to have families should appreciate it properly and do just whatever everyone wants. But I…
K: I have TWO families. I’m a two-two.
A: Two-two? Whatever do you mean?
K: I have TWO families. And TWO houses. A big one and a little one. I have TWO bicycles, one at each house. I’m a prodigy. Everyone thinks so.
A: Well then! How lucky you are! However, I don’t envy you. At least, I shall try. Mrs Lynde says that one should be content with what one has, and I have everything I need. The world is just wonderful, don’t you think? If only my hair wasn’t quite so very red. But Diana says, she says that my hair is ever so welcoming. She says it just draws you in, like a light in a window. Is that just the most poetic thing you ever heard? Besides, you know, she did say that my hair is more auburn than red, and I do hope she is right. I’m afraid she’s just being kind though. She’s ever so kind. She’s my bosom friend, you know.
K: I have TWO bosom friends. Hannie AND Nancy.
K: I have a little brother AND an older sister.
A: Certainly, I…
K: I have TWO pairs of glasses. Pink ones AND blue ones.
A: Well ,that’s…
K: I win spelling bee’s all the time. Can you spell? I bet you can’t. I can spell your name. A-N-N.
A: (smiling engagingly) Actually, it has an ‘e’ on the end of it. Anne with an ‘e’. It’s just so much more romantic that way, don’t you think? Of course, I wanted to be called ‘Cordelia’. Isn’t that just a perfectly beautiful name? I feel I could be just wholly content with a name like ‘Cordelia’. I should only wear white dresses, all the time, and I should put flowers in my hair, and boys would call on me, but I should only smile and wish them well. Except if a certain boy whose name begins with G should call. Then I shouldn’t even smile. Diana says…
K: Ann definitely does NOT have an E on the end. Can’t you even spell your own name?
K: Emily Michelle can spell her name. And she’s a baby, and she’s Vietnamese and she’s an orphan too!
A: What’s a Vietnamese?
K: Green Gables doesn’t even sound like a real place. I think you made it up.
A: Excuse me? ‘Stoneybrook’?… Dear friend, I don’t want to fight. We must settle our dispute like ladies.
K: (suspicious) Like Lovely Ladies?
A: Exactly! Would you like to come inside? Marilla has left me all by myself, and I’m ever so proud of it. I have some hair dye you could try, if you’d like? Also, do you like raspberry cordial?
Jo and Liz are new acquaintances. They are seated together in the March family living room. A Christmas tree lights up the corner.
J: Oh, I do wish I didn’t have to go to the party tonight. I don’t like fuss and feathers nearly so much as the others do, and I can’t behave as I should in company. I know how I ought to behave but my feet will move in time to the music, and then Meg shall glare and oh! Everyone will laugh at me.
E: Oh, Jo I know just how you feel. Jessica always knows what to say to boys. She knows when to smile and how to make them smile back. I’d rather stay at home with a book.
J: (tossing her head with abandon) I love to read! Although, I love to write more even than that. Perhaps it is nothing but a childish fancy, but I imagine myself penning a romantic novel that earns me all the money I might need; and then I could furnish Marmee with anything her heart desires, and not have her look at me ruefully for singing my dress, or marking my gloves.
E: (petulant) Jessica is always borrowing my clothes, and she never returns them. I’m always picking up after her.
J: At least you have Todd. No man will ever look twice at me, with my boyish hair and rumpled dresses.
E: (knowingly) What about Laurie? He’s handsome, and funny and rich. I bet he’s good at basketball.
J: Laurie! Laurie is a great lark, but he is just a boy. No, I shall be a spinster all my days, and kneel in the ashes and poke at the flames with only Beth to give me comfort.
E: Actually, Beth doesn’t look that well, have you noticed?
J: Ohh Elizabeth. Beth is an angel and angels are wont to look distracted. I know she is pale, but her head is simply turned by her music. She is perfectly content with her songs and her flowers. Beth is my comfort.
E: I’m just saying, she looks tired.
J: (flying into a sudden temper) Perhaps you should pay attention to your own family, Mistress Nosy! Have you noticed how much more attention people pay to your sister than to you? You should really wear more purple.
E: (standing up and placing her hands on her perfect size 6 hips, her blue-green eyes sparkling with anger) I’m the intelligent one! I’ll be a journalist and I’ll marry Todd and Enid will look at me covetously and I’ll be happy and all Jessica will have is Lila and a thousand bikinis! You’re just jealous that I’m so organized and dependable! All you’re good for are games and frolics and over-written plays!
J: Elizabeth! You spiteful, horrid girl! I simply loathe you! Want to go ice-skating?