Amaneusis
Faith moved to brush away wild strands of hair from her eyes. She paused. In the moonlight, their gossamer strands seemed veil like to her. With a quivering smile, she moved her hands up over her face. Palms gently caressing her cheeks, fingers playing over lips as she lifted her hair away, lifting it like a wedding veil.
She sat at the foot of their bed at four in the morning and watched him. She promised him. She promised that she would be the amanuensis, that she would make real the ethereal, that she would codify his dreams.
On her lap, a notebook lay open. With a quill she had taken his diction in slumber. Haphazardly she scrawled across pages, a puerile attempt to steal from him his dream state.
posted by Jeiel Aranal @ 11:40 PM
6 Comments:
This is story two. I wasn't satisfied with my first. These Faiths are wholly different persons.
Faith brushed away fairy dust from her elfin face. She wished the giants would stop taking the M4. Super highway her ass. All it did was leave an ugly concrete scar across otherwise pristine suburbia. As giant footsteps fell away, the magical soot being shaken from the rafters ceased their gentle insistent blizzard. Sighing, Faith hunted around the house for the broom. The fact that it was originally a Witches broom and was, ipso facto, enchanted didn’t help.
She really wasn’t being paid enough for this, she knew. She signed on to be an amanuensis, not to be a house maid. Faith had taken on this job not to be sweeping floors but to sit by Mother Goose’s side and put to manuscript her words, her wisdom; her worlds. She was so idealistic when she came on board, full of zing zap and all that.
She never really imagined what a corporate dipshit Mother Goose was. The little cottage by the M4 was just an image, a façade put on by Mother for the masses. Mother Goose, kindly old lady living in an old fashioned cottage. What a nice picture to paint and what an utter load of crap.
In reality she had the all trappings of a MegaCorp. Focus groups, editors, vice-presidents, heads of marketing (in this case, heads did apply as he’s a two headed troll) and all other manner of ass-kissers. She even had a corporate headquarters, complete with a gym slash dungeon with all the latest equipment, both fitness and torture. All under an invisibility enchantment of course.
Sometimes Faith would imagine writing a blog about it. But then she would remember the cold steel necklace around her neck. The one wired to blow up at Mothers pleasure.
Hey, why aren't you using danwa.net?
I'm just curious.
Don't really like the templating and archives system there. I might move this blog to a wordpress one hosted by my cousin if I can contact her.
[... ] is another nice source of information on this topic[...]
All about one and so it is infinite
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