Guess that's why I set up this post each Tuesday blog challenge for myself. I've managed it for almost two years now. So, I'd say that's a record.
In those regards, here are a few little projects that I've been working at on and off for a while. Last time I posted the WIP it was based off Greek Mythology and a bunch of songs that always seem to get stuck in my mind.
Here's a little re-write from when I did NaNoWriMo a few years back.
After the events of our time in Paris I realized that things had gone from bad to worse. There was something wrong with him, something that I couldn’t fix. I’d left. Gone back home to try and sort things out while trying to forget. Nothing helped and soon I found myself back on the shores of the French coast; back amongst the hustle and bustle of the late nineteenth century citizens. Being a Traveller did have perks, though at this point it wasn’t all that grand for me.
Every resolve finally burns in the embers and dies out.
There was a bush that I was dancing around, while it was a nice image the thought was figurative rather than literal. I’d been beating around this particular bush for long enough; the few months I’d been here had been fun, but I had to finish what I’d come here to do. I had to stop playing the “normal” life and find the one person in this whole city who’d been there with me the last time – we had to speak about what had happened. What was going on.
What he was dealing with.
This would be a reunion, of sorts, so naturally I dressed for the occasion. I knew how to look nice, wonderful even, while at the same time keep it practical: skirts, many layers thereof to fit with the times; a practical shirt with bodice to keep intact; a small overcoat, then my regular overcoat; a pair of gloves; and a scarf wrapped around my neck to combat against the chilly fall weather that was threatening winter cold.
I went out that night with every intention of finding him. Of nailing him down and sorting
things out. He had to be easy to find, right?
I knew exactly what I wanted to say to him. I had it all down in my mind. I went through it like a prepared monologue, playing the words over and over again in the back of my mind. It would be simple. All that was left for me to do was find him.
With any search, I had a vague clue of no place to start. I knew where he wouldn’t be – which meant I had no clue where it was that he could be. Instead of having a rather set purpose, I ambled all over Paris, hoping for a great turnout. It wasn’t the worst city to be wondering rather aimlessly around, there were worse places in the world to do so. There were plenty of places that I could pause and sit for a moment to relax too, with a small sampling of food and drink taken from cafes that were open at all hours. The best sorts of food and drink in the world were right there, close and easy to reach.
After passing such another location I found myself wondering up the steps of the great cathedral Notre Dame (to which, as a modern woman, I absolutely dare you not to sing that aloud or in your head). I wasn’t concerned about being a woman out along; there were plenty of other single walkers out this evening, of each sex and persuasion. No one wanted to be indoors on such a night as this; it was pleasant out, the air warm enough to be comfortable, yet with a breeze to keep you cool. It was no wonder at all the streets were becoming filled with people strolling. The sun was on its decline, casting shadows about the streets and casting a glow on those around.
Pausing on the steps I looked up the side of the building at the gargoyles who were guarding the towers and turrets, protectors of the bells of Notre Dame (again, I defy you not to sing that). While they were protectors, they also served to drain excess water from when it rained. Most of them seemed rather happy up there, content to be the guardians of the most iconic cathedral in the world; though there were a few exceptions to this. A few of the more sinister looking creatures chose to glare down upon the masses instead, seeming to revel in the terror they bestowed. Or knowing something the rest of us did not.
I smiled a bit absent-mindedly to myself, feeling the effects of this place, this city, and becoming deliriously happy with where I was. This city always did that to me, it released the cares and worries I felt beating down upon me. It made me relax in such a way that I’d never before thought possible. It was nice to know that I could go someplace in the world and know that no matter what happened I would always find that sense of peace. Of calm.Slipping in through the massive front doors, I removed my scarf from around my hair, letting it hang about my neck instead. I smiled at the priests, who approved of my being in there – seeing me as a penitent young woman being in a good place. I was a practicing Christian, though when in Rome, as the saying went, I did as the locals did. It was out of character for me, but that night it felt absolutely right.
What are you working on right now? Leave a little comment.
No comments:
Post a Comment