Where chaos stops and more chaos ensues. Where Filia plays the electric keyboard.
Where anything goes.
-//o_O\\7 *Home of the Awful, Mediocre and Pathetic* -//u_u\\7
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Where chaos stops and more chaos ensues. Where Filia plays the electric keyboard. Where anything goes. -//o_O\\7 *Home of the Awful, Mediocre and Pathetic* -//u_u\\7 |
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Thursday, January 15, 2004 (7) That girl ... who's she? I tingled with apprehension as the unknown person approached in its casualness, obviously oblivious to my fear as to its origins, and its intentions. In several stretched seconds, I flinched and nearly lost my balance when the figure suddenly knelt down, and reached out a skeletal finger to prod me gently in the forehead. "Hello, how are you?" "Wha ..." I glanced more carefully, the sun's rays now aiding me being positioned at a more advantageous angle, to see the flawless complexion of a fair young girl, probably one of about ten years old, or maybe even less. Dressed in a wholesome and neat pale frock, secured with a belt of white satin, my awareness of the more likely age of the approaching stranger seemed to ease my rampant hallucinations of whoever it may be, "I'm fine ..." "Nice to meet you, Fine!" responded the girl immediately with a closed-eyes smile, "I'm ..." "Uh, I think we have a misunderstanding," I quickly interrupted, "My name is Charlotte, not ... not whatever else it may be." "Okay, I wasn't going to call you that anyway," replied the girl, bearing the tightest of grins, "How are you feeling, anyway? You've been lying out there for ... probably the whole night!" "The whole night?" I gasped, even though I knew that was most likely the case unless I had sleepwalked there in a daze, "I ... I guess I'm ... I mean, I am feeling all right, I guess." The words came out slowly, like the stutter of broken clockwork, but that was the most one would expect of an utterly disoriented person. "You know," the girl explained, and continued to elaborate much to my surprise and shock, "My father saw you out there since last night and, though you weren't moving, my mother didn't really want to bring you in because ... there's weird goings about at night. But since you're up in the morning and looking quite all right, my parents say maybe it might be a good idea for you to come in and have warm toast and a hot cup of tea?" "I suppose ..." I murmured. Despite the fact that I couldn't remember my last meal, in my appreciation of the morning glory my last thoughts were on filling my stomach, "That's pretty nice of them." "Maybe if you had a good breakfast, you can tell us more about what happened to you and then ... we could help you out or something," piped the girl as she gently brushed an wisp of teal elbow-length hair out of her vision and over her shoulder, "We just live at that farm over there, in case you didn't already guess." Looking over her shoulder, I spotted a typical ember barn, accompanied by a happily turning windmill. A small wooden cottage was sited just in front of them, and that was probably where the girl lived. It had to be. I shifted my weight and, turning away from the magnificent scene I had awoken to, I dug the heels of my boots into the fresh soil and propped myself up. When egged on by the girl's childish smile and the fact that she was at least a head shorter than I was, I felt rather embarrassed that I had actually feared the approach of this mysterious figure. "Come on," she laughed as she frolicked away in a carefree manner, while I plodded along behind her like a tired old donkey, "Cheer up a little, won't you? And just be careful when you're crossing the road ..." "By the way ,,," I called out as I was struck by a sudden thought. That girl ... who's she? Had I seen her anywhere before? "You didn't tell me ... what's your name?" "Oh?" she turned behind, and gave a cheeky grin with her head tilted merrily, "I thought you didn't want to know. I was going to tell you, but you interrupted me ..." "I'm sorry ..." I shrugged my shoulders and gave a sigh as I trudged forward, the girl's ecstatic giggling ringing in my ears. - your adventure has a very high probability of continuing - (draws out caculator ..." I guess that is kind of the opposite of the "great expedition" kind of story, something domestic and contained. Well, since I can't say that I've ever finished a story satisfactorily, I guess you can evince that I have never actually seriously written anything with the remotest hint of containment beyond History Paper III essays. Oh, for the days. posted by Charlotte | 3:42 pm
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Disclaimer : The Slayers and Filia Ul Copt and all images thereof are the property of Hajime Kanzaka and Rui Araizumi. I don't own any of them, although if I had a choice I would want Filia ... ~//n_n\\7 |
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