Lady Faizah
8th March 2005, 01:41 PM
The young woman sat down at her desk, and flexed her fingers. She turned on her computer, and sipped at her coffee while she waited for the infernal thing to load. She let her eyes wander, gazing at the masses of accumulated junk and little knick-knacks she had collected. She sighed, one day she really ought to clean that mess out. She twisted her mouth in a wry grin, 'Who knows,' she thought, 'I may even find something interesting.'
She glanced over her shoulder at the old wardrobe; it must have been made decades ago, with its solid wooden frame, and its aged appearance. She smiled slightly to herself, remembering the books she'd read as a child, about another world, reached through the wardrobe. That had been the reason she'd bought it, of course. She didn't have a nostalgic bone in her body, but an entire nostalgic skeleton.
Suddenly though, her reminiscing thoughts were interrupted, as she spotted something odd. 'What is that?' she thought to herself, finding an old yellowed piece of paper on the floor in front of the wardrobe. She picked it up to have a closer look, but just then, her computer made a sound. "Ah, you're ready now are you?" she said, as though her computer could hear and respond, then put the paper to one side, promising herself she'd look at it later.
Some time later, she yawned, then smiled tiredly. Her fingers found the keys easily, although not as swiftly as they had earlier. 'Tired - Going to bed' she typed, then logged off. In turning around, she stretched, and knocked the forgotten piece of paper to the floor. She blinked, and looked at it sleepily, then shrugged, 'I'll pick that up tomorrow' she told herself, before clambering wearily into bed.
Several 'tomorrows' later she flopped onto her bed in a huff, muttering about chores. She rolled over and switched on her computer, fidgeting impatiently while the straining machine booted up. 'Really must upgrade this glorified anchor I call a computer,' she thought, glancing around for something to distract her during the boot up process. "Aha!" she said to herself, spying that old piece of paper. "Wonder what you're about then.."
She glanced at it, finding one side blank, then turning over to the other side. The computer beeped to let her know it was finished starting up. The woman put the piece of paper down, though she did notice marks on the other side, in her brief glance. A moment of thought for that, then she returned to her computer. Tappity-tap went the keys, as she immersed herself in her little fantasy world.
Whenever she got up from the computer, and when she returned, the scrap of paper caught her eye. Each time it did, she considered seeing what the other side said, but each time her curiousity was overpowered, either by her return to the computer, or by whatever the reason she was leaving it. 'I'll look later.' she told herself, yet knowing she'd most likely forget. And forget she did.
That night, she tossed and turned, trying for about an hour to get to sleep. Finally, tired and cranky, she got up. "Hmph!" she muttered, pouting like a sulky child. She stumbled over to the light, and flicked the switch, blinking for several minutes in the sudden brightness.
The first thing her eyes landed on was the scrap of paper. She rested the index and middle fingers of her right hand upon it, feeling the paper. She had no idea why, but it did seem to give her the courage to look at it. "Courage?" she asked aloud, then frowned. 'Why on earth would I need courage to look at a bit of paper?' she thought, then shook her head. Fingers still resting on the bit of paper, she slid it to the edge of the desk, then picked it up.
She took a deep breath, without really knowing why, then turned the paper over. When nothing happened, she exhaled, realising she'd been holding her breath. "Oh, don't be silly, it's just a scrap of paper." she muttered under her breath. "Curse my over-active imagination." However, it still took a moment before she dared look at the paper.
After all that, it just seemed to be a name, or half of one. Dav. Possibly Dave or David, the paper had torn right after the v. "Dav?" she said aloud, hoping it would give her some clue. Nothing. With a small shrug, she put the paper down. "Now will you let me get some sleep?" No answer. She laughed softly, slightly nervously. 'Paper can't talk.' she thought, though she had almost expected it to. Slowly she backed away from the desk, then crawled back into bed. This time, she went to sleep almost instantly. By the next afternoon, she was able to convince herself that she had just been dreaming when she looked at the paper-scrap. Still, she ignored it, just in case. Even if it had been a dream, she'd had 'true' dreams before, and this seemed like one of them.
Seeking distraction, she turned on her computer, then left her desk to wander about the house while the thing loaded. Such an empty house, it was occupied only by her and a couple of cats. Still, it was a nice old house, and another nostalgically inspired purchase. She'd lived there once before, as a young girl, though that wasn't the only reason. For some reason, the house 'felt' like home, on some deep instinctual level. It felt right, like this was where she belonged. Whenever she tried to examine these feelings, to find a reason, they seemed to scurry away from her probing light to some darker corner of her mind. She had learnt long ago not to question these things. She was content here, and that was all that mattered.
A far off beep sounded, dragging her out of her thoughts. She found herself at the kitchen window, looking out at the wildly growing plants in the backyard. 'Must hire a gardener to tame that mess' she thought, for the umpteenth time. Another beep, seeming more insistant, although really exactly the same. "I'm coming, I'm coming." talking again to her computer, as she turned and headed back. Yet, her mind drifted back again and again to that blasted paper. She finally turned the computer off again, in frustration. "It's no wonder I can't find anything, this place is a mess!" she said, then sat back and considered where to begin.
Just as she was getting up to start, there was a knock on the front door. In puzzlement, she got up, wondering just who would be standing there. 'Dav?' was her first thought, though she quickly stifled it. Yet, her curiousity had been peaked, so she went to answer the knock. Opening the door, she was greeted by the new next-door neighbour. "Yes?" she enquired. Her lack of practice with any kind of face-to-face interaction clearly showed, in just that single word.
The man at her door seemed a little taken aback by her demand-like query. "Uh, just saying hi." a small yet awkward pause followed. "Hi."
She looked him up and down, trying to re-familiarise herself with the art of conversation. With a keyboard, she was fine; any errors made then can easily be erased. But, meeting a new person, and in the flesh, well, every mistake seemed far more permanent, first impressions being what they are. All the while, he stood there, rubbing his hands together nervously. She sighed inwardly, deciding to take pity on the man and invite him in for coffee. Besides, he might know something about this 'Dav'. Yet, even as she had the thought, she knew that she couldn't ask him outright. He might think her a fool, and it was suddenly very important what he thought of her, though she couldn't say why.
Still he stood there, his body language hinting at his growing unease. Finally, she spoke. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'd forgotten my manners. Care for a cuppa?" she asked, trying to insert every bit of good cheer and friendly spirit into her words.
He suddenly smiled, and nodded. "I'd love one, and thanks." he said, shaking his head in slight bewilderment. "Somehow the coffee is always the last to be found when it comes to unpacking." he complained, though he didn't seem to mind all that much.
"Oh, you move often?" she asked, as she led him through to the kitchen. "How do you take it? Tea or coffee?" was asked next, in a slightly more business-like tone, before she shifted back to the friendlier one again. "I myself moved around a lot when I was a girl. I like to think I've stopped, for a while at least." she smiled.
With a small shrug, he answered her cuppa question first, "Coffee, white with two. Thanks." then to her first, "Well, not often exactly. I've just," here he broke off suddenly, into thought, as though he couldn't quite believe the next words in his mind. "Well, to tell the truth, I've never found the right house." he said, in a slightly surprised tone. With a shake of his head, he dismissed that idea. "Well, now I've said it, though it still sounds daft." he said, though it seemed like he was attempting to cover his true feelings with the latter statement.
She shook her head. "Not at all. I understand perfectly, that's how I felt all the while, until I moved here. I think this is the right one. It seems right, for me." she smiled, a little self-consciously. "And, well, if that makes me daft as well, then so be it."
After a brief smile of thanks for her reassurance, the man glanced about. "And a nice house it is, too."
"Oh, it's not all that special. It's actually rather a dump." she said modestly. Yet, it was with a warm tone of voice, indicating that she rather liked living there. After a momentary pause she finished with "But, I have to admit, the place does have character." just as the kettle boiled. She turned to pour the water into the mugs, adding, "Remind me to give you the grand tour later."
Feedback goes here (http://annemccaffreyfans.org/forum/showthread.php?t=2016).
She glanced over her shoulder at the old wardrobe; it must have been made decades ago, with its solid wooden frame, and its aged appearance. She smiled slightly to herself, remembering the books she'd read as a child, about another world, reached through the wardrobe. That had been the reason she'd bought it, of course. She didn't have a nostalgic bone in her body, but an entire nostalgic skeleton.
Suddenly though, her reminiscing thoughts were interrupted, as she spotted something odd. 'What is that?' she thought to herself, finding an old yellowed piece of paper on the floor in front of the wardrobe. She picked it up to have a closer look, but just then, her computer made a sound. "Ah, you're ready now are you?" she said, as though her computer could hear and respond, then put the paper to one side, promising herself she'd look at it later.
Some time later, she yawned, then smiled tiredly. Her fingers found the keys easily, although not as swiftly as they had earlier. 'Tired - Going to bed' she typed, then logged off. In turning around, she stretched, and knocked the forgotten piece of paper to the floor. She blinked, and looked at it sleepily, then shrugged, 'I'll pick that up tomorrow' she told herself, before clambering wearily into bed.
Several 'tomorrows' later she flopped onto her bed in a huff, muttering about chores. She rolled over and switched on her computer, fidgeting impatiently while the straining machine booted up. 'Really must upgrade this glorified anchor I call a computer,' she thought, glancing around for something to distract her during the boot up process. "Aha!" she said to herself, spying that old piece of paper. "Wonder what you're about then.."
She glanced at it, finding one side blank, then turning over to the other side. The computer beeped to let her know it was finished starting up. The woman put the piece of paper down, though she did notice marks on the other side, in her brief glance. A moment of thought for that, then she returned to her computer. Tappity-tap went the keys, as she immersed herself in her little fantasy world.
Whenever she got up from the computer, and when she returned, the scrap of paper caught her eye. Each time it did, she considered seeing what the other side said, but each time her curiousity was overpowered, either by her return to the computer, or by whatever the reason she was leaving it. 'I'll look later.' she told herself, yet knowing she'd most likely forget. And forget she did.
That night, she tossed and turned, trying for about an hour to get to sleep. Finally, tired and cranky, she got up. "Hmph!" she muttered, pouting like a sulky child. She stumbled over to the light, and flicked the switch, blinking for several minutes in the sudden brightness.
The first thing her eyes landed on was the scrap of paper. She rested the index and middle fingers of her right hand upon it, feeling the paper. She had no idea why, but it did seem to give her the courage to look at it. "Courage?" she asked aloud, then frowned. 'Why on earth would I need courage to look at a bit of paper?' she thought, then shook her head. Fingers still resting on the bit of paper, she slid it to the edge of the desk, then picked it up.
She took a deep breath, without really knowing why, then turned the paper over. When nothing happened, she exhaled, realising she'd been holding her breath. "Oh, don't be silly, it's just a scrap of paper." she muttered under her breath. "Curse my over-active imagination." However, it still took a moment before she dared look at the paper.
After all that, it just seemed to be a name, or half of one. Dav. Possibly Dave or David, the paper had torn right after the v. "Dav?" she said aloud, hoping it would give her some clue. Nothing. With a small shrug, she put the paper down. "Now will you let me get some sleep?" No answer. She laughed softly, slightly nervously. 'Paper can't talk.' she thought, though she had almost expected it to. Slowly she backed away from the desk, then crawled back into bed. This time, she went to sleep almost instantly. By the next afternoon, she was able to convince herself that she had just been dreaming when she looked at the paper-scrap. Still, she ignored it, just in case. Even if it had been a dream, she'd had 'true' dreams before, and this seemed like one of them.
Seeking distraction, she turned on her computer, then left her desk to wander about the house while the thing loaded. Such an empty house, it was occupied only by her and a couple of cats. Still, it was a nice old house, and another nostalgically inspired purchase. She'd lived there once before, as a young girl, though that wasn't the only reason. For some reason, the house 'felt' like home, on some deep instinctual level. It felt right, like this was where she belonged. Whenever she tried to examine these feelings, to find a reason, they seemed to scurry away from her probing light to some darker corner of her mind. She had learnt long ago not to question these things. She was content here, and that was all that mattered.
A far off beep sounded, dragging her out of her thoughts. She found herself at the kitchen window, looking out at the wildly growing plants in the backyard. 'Must hire a gardener to tame that mess' she thought, for the umpteenth time. Another beep, seeming more insistant, although really exactly the same. "I'm coming, I'm coming." talking again to her computer, as she turned and headed back. Yet, her mind drifted back again and again to that blasted paper. She finally turned the computer off again, in frustration. "It's no wonder I can't find anything, this place is a mess!" she said, then sat back and considered where to begin.
Just as she was getting up to start, there was a knock on the front door. In puzzlement, she got up, wondering just who would be standing there. 'Dav?' was her first thought, though she quickly stifled it. Yet, her curiousity had been peaked, so she went to answer the knock. Opening the door, she was greeted by the new next-door neighbour. "Yes?" she enquired. Her lack of practice with any kind of face-to-face interaction clearly showed, in just that single word.
The man at her door seemed a little taken aback by her demand-like query. "Uh, just saying hi." a small yet awkward pause followed. "Hi."
She looked him up and down, trying to re-familiarise herself with the art of conversation. With a keyboard, she was fine; any errors made then can easily be erased. But, meeting a new person, and in the flesh, well, every mistake seemed far more permanent, first impressions being what they are. All the while, he stood there, rubbing his hands together nervously. She sighed inwardly, deciding to take pity on the man and invite him in for coffee. Besides, he might know something about this 'Dav'. Yet, even as she had the thought, she knew that she couldn't ask him outright. He might think her a fool, and it was suddenly very important what he thought of her, though she couldn't say why.
Still he stood there, his body language hinting at his growing unease. Finally, she spoke. "Oh, I'm sorry, I'd forgotten my manners. Care for a cuppa?" she asked, trying to insert every bit of good cheer and friendly spirit into her words.
He suddenly smiled, and nodded. "I'd love one, and thanks." he said, shaking his head in slight bewilderment. "Somehow the coffee is always the last to be found when it comes to unpacking." he complained, though he didn't seem to mind all that much.
"Oh, you move often?" she asked, as she led him through to the kitchen. "How do you take it? Tea or coffee?" was asked next, in a slightly more business-like tone, before she shifted back to the friendlier one again. "I myself moved around a lot when I was a girl. I like to think I've stopped, for a while at least." she smiled.
With a small shrug, he answered her cuppa question first, "Coffee, white with two. Thanks." then to her first, "Well, not often exactly. I've just," here he broke off suddenly, into thought, as though he couldn't quite believe the next words in his mind. "Well, to tell the truth, I've never found the right house." he said, in a slightly surprised tone. With a shake of his head, he dismissed that idea. "Well, now I've said it, though it still sounds daft." he said, though it seemed like he was attempting to cover his true feelings with the latter statement.
She shook her head. "Not at all. I understand perfectly, that's how I felt all the while, until I moved here. I think this is the right one. It seems right, for me." she smiled, a little self-consciously. "And, well, if that makes me daft as well, then so be it."
After a brief smile of thanks for her reassurance, the man glanced about. "And a nice house it is, too."
"Oh, it's not all that special. It's actually rather a dump." she said modestly. Yet, it was with a warm tone of voice, indicating that she rather liked living there. After a momentary pause she finished with "But, I have to admit, the place does have character." just as the kettle boiled. She turned to pour the water into the mugs, adding, "Remind me to give you the grand tour later."
Feedback goes here (http://annemccaffreyfans.org/forum/showthread.php?t=2016).