Can I Just… Talk For A Moment… About How Much I Love How, If You Know Them Well, Words Don’t Have

Can I just… talk for a moment… about how much I love how, if you know them well, words don’t have synonyms?

English, for example, is a fantastic disaster. It has so many words for things that are basically the same, and I find there’s few joys in writing like finding the right word for a sentence. Hunting down that peculiar word with particular meaning that fits in seamlessly in a structure, so the story flows on by without any bumps or leaks.

Like how a shout is typically about volume, while a yell carries an angry edge and a holler carries a mocking one. A scream has shrillness, a roar has ferocity, and a screech has outrage. 

This is not to say that a yell cannot be happy or a holler cannot be complimentary, or that they cannot share these traits, but they are different words with different connotations. I love choosing the right one for a sentence, not only for its meanings but for how it sounds when read aloud. (Do I want sounds that slide together, peaceful and seamless, or something that jolts the reader with its contrast? Snap!)

I love how many words for human habitats there are. I love how cottage sounds quaint and cabin sounds rustic. I love steadiness of house, the elegance of residence, the stateliness of manor, and tired stubbornness of shack. I love how a dwelling is different to a den.

And I love how none of them can really touch the possessive warmness of all the connotations of home.

Words are great.

More Posts from Rora-s and Others

4 years ago

Happy Bi Visibility Day everyone 💗💜💙

Happy Bi Visibility Day Everyone 💗💜💙
4 years ago

The Derivative  Chapter 2: Shots

Chapter 1<- 

I stared across the darkened classroom at my blinders. They were perched in captivity on my history teachers desk. Stolen away from me and promised release upon the end of class today. The teacher himself was blathering on about something that I didn’t find important about how history continues on today. It seemed rather a redundant point to make. Of course we were living history I mean at one point every person we learn about in history had been in their present time.

There was movement in the corner of my vision and I turned to see Mr. Hopkins had turned on the tv in the room. “...let’s see what’s on the news nowadays as an example.” after flipping past a couple static filled channels Hopkins finally found the news station he was looking for.

I was about to turn back to my thoughts when I caught what the reporter was saying “This is a live breaking report from the channel 8 news. Flying over Central Los Angeles Savings Bank. I can see multiple people lying on the ground. One appears to be a federal agent several bystanders also seemed to have been injured in the crossfire, where the shoot out between federal agents and suspected bank robbers is in progress...”

I felt like ice water had just been pumped through my veins. I froze completely in shock. I remembered back to just the other night when Don had asked Charlie for help tracking bank robbers. Could it be the same robbers? Could Don be in the shootout? Was he injured? The class continued to watch through a car explosion and more gun fire and more cops arriving. Even into the aftermath.

“I’m receiving confirmation that three people were killed in his tragic incident one of which being an FBI agent. ” The bell rang and Hopkins turned off the tv. Seeming only to have been half listening. Most of the students in the class only seemed to be half listening.

I however was shaking. I was terrified. What if it was Don? What if he was dead? Shot down in front of a bank. I swallowed the lump in my throat rising from my desk with the rest of my classmates. I sweeped by the teacher’s desk and rescued my blinders before heading into the hallway.

My next class didn’t seem at all important as I ducked into the bathroom and locked myself in a stall. I pulled out my phone and speed dialed my father’s number. He didn’t pick up. I tried again. More of the same. I tried Alan; he didn’t answer either nor did Charlie. I repeated Don, Alan, Charlie. No one would pick up their phone. After hearing my father’s voice mail for the fifth time. I pocketed my cell and grabbed my backpack.

The hallway was clear as the final class of the day had already started. I headed straight for the exit. I was going to catch a bus to Alan’s house and get some answers. I was stopped by a hand on my shoulder.

“Abby Calvin” the voice spoke. I turned to see none other than the school principal smiling down on me with a fake grin. “Skipping class are we?”

“Sir I was-”

He held up a hand “this is the third time in the last two weeks you’ve skipped a class. It’s not happening again, come on” he led me to the office.

The rest of my time at school was taken up by me being talked at by the principal. I tried to explain what was happening multiple times. He wouldn’t hear it and I was given a note for Don to read when I got home. My stomach churned as I imagined him shot to death in front of a bank. I quickly banned the image and beat my imagination into submission.

I tried each of the men I called family again twice on the bus before I was let off at the apartment building. I hurried up to my and Don’s apartment and let myself in. I threw my backpack on the couch and turned on the news grasping for any information that it might tell me.

As I sat watching the various unrelated news streams and casters talking about things I could care less about. I felt a sharp pain hit my head like a rock and with a blink I suddenly wasn’t sitting on the couch in Don’s living room.

I was crouched by a fire. I could hear the rain. People were talking all around me, there was music, laughing. Then there were shots. They echoed loudly in-

I stood and shook my head like it was wet. Pushing away the intrusive memory. I grabbed my binders out of my pocket putting them on and taking multiple deep breaths to try and calm down. I didn’t want to think about that. I didn’t want to think about her.

_________________ 3rd POV.

Don sighed sitting down on his desk and pinching the bridge of his nose. Tonight was not going well for him. His arm hurt and his head hurt. Worse he had just gotten back from talking to Agent McKnight's parents at their hotel. Nothing hurt worse than the look on McKnight’s mother's face when he told her what happened.

“I should be looking at mugshots, right?” Don voiced to Terry who was at her own desk nearby.

“Did you get a good look?” she inquired.

“Yeah, definitely” the man muttered in reply. Just then his phone rang. He pulled it out and glanced at the caller ID. It was Abby he was about to answer it.

“Agent Eppes.” Don turned to see the forensic scientist had appeared nearby. “That piece of evidence you found at the scene. We know what it is”

“Excellent” he told her and glanced back at his phone declining the call from his daughter and making a note to call her back once he got a chance. Then him and Terry followed the scientist down to her lab. ________________________ Don reached the door to his apartment and began digging for his keys with a sigh. This case had taken a major turn and it was really late. He wasn’t here to rest though he was here to pick up Abby and take her to his father’s house. Alan could watch over her while Don worked late at the office on this case. As he turned the knob of the door he grimaced at the shot of pain his arm gave him. Then he entered his apartment and heard the immediate stomping of feet running to the door.

“What the hell were you thinking!?”

It took the FBI agent a moment to register the unexpected outburst to be coming from his daughter. “What?” he asked, confused.

“You were getting shot at!” Abby yelled walking up to him. “It was all over the news! An agent was shot and another was dead and I didn’t know who was who because you wouldn’t pick up your goddamn cell phone!” she yelled.

Don thought back to all the times he had dismissed her calls that day. He hadn’t thought anything about it at the time. However now he realized how stupid it had been not to let her know he was alright. “I’m sorry Abby I-”

“You could have been dead for all I knew!” she cut him off “and where would that have left me? Huh?” Her voice broke.

“Abby I risk my life everyday” Don explained trying to keep his voice level and calming.

“I know but you can’t just act like I’m supposed to be okay with it or just leave me in the dark to suffer you unbelievable jerk” she shoved him harshly in her anger.

“Abby. Abby. Abby!” Don tried to get her attention to make her calm down as she whacked at his chest and struggled against him in anger.

“I already lost my mom, I can’t lose you to Dad!”

Both parties froze at her last outburst. The anger in Abby’s face faded as she realized what she had said. “You just called me Dad” Don muttered.

“No no I said Don” Abby objected.

“No you said Dad” Don countered a small smile threatening his face. Despite the circumstance it was the first time she had ever called him that.

“No I said Don” the girl muttered.

“You called me Dad” Don let off a light chuckle.

“Oh shut up you stupid sperm donor” Abby grumbled as he pulled her into a hug.

“Are you done yelling now?” he inquired. Abby nodded into his chest. “Then listen cause the truth is I’m sorry I should have told you I was alright rather than just leaving you in the dark. I just- I’m still figuring out this father thing alright. We both are and I’m sorry but risking my life and possibly getting shot at is my job” Abby squeezed him tighter “but I will make this promise to you though. For every moment I am alive I will be fighting to make it back here to you. Alright?”

“Alright” Abby nodded as they stepped apart. “Donald”

Don sighed “Dad things not staying huh?”

“I wouldn’t bet on it” Abby replied with a smirk that mirrored her fathers.

“And here I was actually liking the idea of being called Dad” Don murmured. They both chuckled lightly. _______________________ Abby POV.

Me and Don pulled up outside Gramp's house and loaded out of the truck. Alan came out to meet us near immediately with a look of concern clear on his face. “Donnie, you all right?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. It’s fine- ow! Ow!” he exclaimed as his father touched his injured arm. “Look it’s just, my arm’s a little sore.” he addressed the blatant concern on Alan’s face. “I got a- a scrape during an incident.”

I rolled my eyes at the lame excuse coming over to their side of the driveway. “A scrape? From what?”

“Well, a bullet, if you have to know” Don muttered with a sarcasm very much like my own.

“A bullet oh my g-” Alan exclaimed immediately.

Don quickly spoke over him “but it’s not… dad, please listen to me, okay?Just relax. We had an arrest go bad, and we lost an agent, okay? And three people died”

“It was all over the news” I added “check your voicemail I left messages”

“My word” gramps breathed out in shock.

“Now I’m dropping this one off and looking for Charlie. Where is he?” Don questioned.

“He’s out in the garage with Larry.” the other man informed. “He’s upset. I can see why now.”

“What’s he doing in the garage?” Don asked, confused. I had to admit I was confused as well last I heard they only used the garage for storage and laundry.

“He’s just working on that problem. You know.” Alan spoke directly to Don. “the problem he can never solve.”

“The P vs. P thing?” Don inquired.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s the one.” gramps nodded.

“Aw man” Don groaned in aggravation. I got the sense there was more going on here than I was privy to.

“Wait do you mean P vs. NP?” I looked between the two men. “The millennium prize problem?”

Neither seemed to be listening to me as Don started trucking toward the house. “Where are you going?” Alan called after him.

“I got to talk to him.” the son replied “I need a new equation”

Alan seemed as though he wanted to say more but Don had already disappeared into the house. “What’s the problem with Charlie working on P vs. NP?” I asked.

Alan sighed and looked to the ground “It’s not Charlie working on the problem that’s well the problem Abby. It’s why” I thought on it for a moment but was still not sure what he was saying. “Come on” he finally spoke up. “I’m assuming you haven’t had any kind of dinner yet” I nodded and followed my grandfather inside. ________________ 3rd POV.

Don came storming into the kitchen from talking to Charlie. It was aggravating after everything that happened with McKnight and the shootings. Charlie should be motivated to stop these guys but instead he just such down. Don was a kind of frustrated that only his little brother could make him whether it was rational or not and he knew it.

“Are you okay?” Don turned to see Abby perched sitting cross legged on the kitchen island. She was eyeing him quizzically.

“Yeah” he answered immediately “no.” he answered honestly “been better” he finally decided to go with. Abby nodded and bit her lip in a way that for half second made Don feel like he was looking in a mirror before he brushed the thought away “what are you doing in here?”

“Thinking” the girl replied honestly holding up her blinders which the man could infer she had just removed. “Gramps and your partner Terry are in the living room. She’s nice. I thanked her for the books she got me for my birthday.”

Don nodded and let out a breath feeling his irritation slowly ebbing away “yeah I’ve known Terry for a long time”

“Really?” the girl inquired.

“Yeah about ten years. We met in the academy” he explained.

“FBI academy?” she quizzed further.

“Yeah” Don nodded and a small grin came to his face “what you think I learned all this on the streets. Trial by fire style?”

Abby laughed slightly. “Well I don’t know I’ve only known a real FBI agent for the upside of a month”

Don scoffed and looked to his shoes. “Yeah”

“Is Charlie helping with this bank robbing case still?” Abby inquired, glancing toward the backdoor through which Don supposed she must have been able to hear the shouting.

“Apparently not” Don grumbled. “All he wants to do is work on the stupid P vs. P thing he’s completely shut down.”

“I can’t really blame him for being worried” she stated “and neither can you Don. You could have died and Charlie’s the one who sent you to the bank where the shooting happened.”

Don sighed and looked at his daughter quizzically “yeah I know but like I told you it’s my job to get shot at and I can’t change that. The more he helps though the less likely it is for that to happen and he just doesn’t want to help”

Abby looked like she was about to respond when the door to the kitchen opened and Terry stepped in “hey Don sorry to interrupt but we have to get back to the office.”

“Yeah coming” the man replied to his partner. Then turned to his daughter “I’ll see you later kid”

“Bye Don” the girl replied.

Don nodded and followed Terry out of the kitchen. Thinking in the back of his mind that he really wished she would have said Dad. __________________ Abby POV.

I walked slowly down the stairs of the house heading for the living room. Two books in hand that I wanted to read. I was mildly preoccupied with my own thoughts to the point that I didn’t realize Charlie had returned from the garage until I was about to turn the corner. I paused out of sight of the two men in the living room as the younger spoke.

“Dad. I’ve been working on a problem.” he explained “P vs. NP, it can’t be solved.”

“I think you knew that when you started” Alan replied wisely flipping through his paper.

“I could work on it forever, constantly pushing forward, still never reaching an end.” Charlie admitted. I bit my lip realizing I shouldn’t be listening in on this conversation however my feet wouldn’t move from the place they had planted themselves.

“You know, sometimes you want to think that things don’t end.” gramps mused “but they do.”

“When mom was sick I couldn’t stop working on it.” Charlie’s voice was breaking and I felt something clench in my chest. I had gathered enough knowledge about Margaret Eppes, my grandmother, to know she had died of cancer about a year ago. None of them really talked about it in excess. It was still fresh in their minds. Like my mom’s death and the state of mourning it procured were still fresh in mine.

“Yeah. I know.” Alan spoke to Charlie gently. “I didn’t get it. Uh, not then. And your brother sure doesn’t understand why you spent the last three months of your mother’s life working on a math problem.” I shifted on my feet listening despite my growing urge to leave “But Charlie, you mother she understood why. Because she knew how your mind worked.”

I finally pried myself off the wall and left the house. I wandered through the yard to the garage. My mom knew how my mind worked to. Even though she couldn’t think like I did she always understood why I behaved like I did. She knew what was in my head. _~_~_~_~_~_~_~_~_ 3rd POV.

Abby sat another book on her already read pile. Grabbing a new one from her, going to read pile. She had just opened the cover when there was a clearing of the throat from the entrance to the small nook she had claimed in the back of the library.

She looked up to see her mother standing there, arms crossed. “Busted huh?” The girl asked. 

“Uh huh” the mom responded. Removing her purse from her shoulder she sat down across from her 14 year old on the floor. “I got another call from the school. You know most moms when their kid ditches don’t check the library first.”

“But you know better” Abby commented with a smirk.

“Yeah I do kid but you still have to stop skipping school even if it is to go read books” Janice stated.

“But the classes are pointless and boring” Abby objected. “They want to either put me in the need help classes because of my spotty elementary school education or in equally boring regular courses and then are shocked when I ace it all” Abby explained adamantly. “It’s patronizing”

Janice sighed “I know I asked again about the advanced courses but they are still sticking to their plan” 

“If they’d just give me the chance I could show them” Abby muttered.

“You’re a brilliant girl Abbs one day people will see that” Janice reassured. “But you still have to go to school” Abby groaned “Hey, hey it’s not just about the school work maybe you could make some friends. You know you can’t hide in the library forever. Eventually you will run out of books. Especially at the rate you read” 

Abby nodded “yeah I know. But people are well… people” 

Janice smiled slightly “yeah they tend to be like that. What are you reading there?” 

Abby glanced down at her book. “I don’t know haven’t started it yet” 

Janice smiled “alright then you read I’m going to grab a computer and do some of my school work for my new online classes” 

“Mrs. Wiat wasn’t kidding about homework never ending was she?” Abby commented as Janice got to her feet the woman chuckled lightly with her daughter. _~_~_~_~_~_~_~_ Abby POV.

I was sitting in the garage with my blinders on just absently thinking when I heard someone else walk in. I raised up the blinders to see it was Charlie. He plopped down in the chair nearby and grabbed his laptop.

After a moment he glanced up at me “Abby’s why are you sitting on the floor?”

I shrugged “it’s comfortable”

The man wasn't interested in discussing the topic. “So your millenium problem.” I gestured to all the boards around us. “Are you going to keep working on it?”

Charlie froze in the typing he had been doing. “I don’t know but, it can wait”

“And Don can’t” I finished his thought. Charlie nodded slightly and continued on his computer. I half wanted to talk to him about my mother for some reason. As I felt he might understand. I wanted to tell him that my mom got it too. However, I didn’t want to reveal that I had overheard him earlier, nor did I want to upset him. “The numbers are easy aren’t they?” I finally voiced after a moment “easier than people anyway. Answers to questions and a solid foundation. Easy to hide in.”

“Yeah” Charlie breathed in response and looked up at me “but we can’t hide in the numbers forever can we?”

“Nope” I muttered, popping the p. We were silent for a moment with the exception of Charlie’s mouse clicking.

Then Larry, Charlie’s friend and fellow CalSci professor, entered the garage. “Well,” he voiced upon his arrival, “I was heartened to hear that you’ve shifted your focus off P vs. NP.” he meandered further into the garage “So tell me what is it that I can help you with?”

“I failed” Charlie admitted and I snapped my attention back to him. “I failed to notice something significant. These robberies display certain highly eccentric characteristics.”

“Okay” Larry murmured, taking a seat on my other side a top some stuff “well how so?”

“Many were conducted in under two minutes, but in many cases,” Charlie explained “the perpetrators remained on the premises far longer despite having the money. Why would they wait around?”

“Don’t know.” the cosmologist replied “leaving quickly would seem to be the essential strategy when fleeing a felony.”

“Or any kind of crime” I added. “It’s risky cops could show up”

“You see this game, Larry? Abby?” Charlie pivoted his computer screen to show he had been playing Minesweeper. “You have to clear mines without blowing any up. Each time you’ve cleared a square, a numerical value is revealed. That number tells you exactly how many squares containing mines are directly adjacent to the square. This allows you to predict where the next mine will be located. And then the more boxes revealed, the more accurately one can predict the location of the mines.” he finished explaining the game and then continued with its relevance “the pattern used in these bank robberies is similar to this same type of problem-solving pattern. These robbers have used the banks they’ve been robbing to tell them which ones to rob next.”

“To what end would criminals be playing Minesweeper with banks?” Larry posed the same question rattling in my brain.

“I don’t know,” Charlie admitted.

“Are they using it to find high cash sums.” I suggested.

“No the takes varied, some as low as one hundred dollars.” Charlie objected thinking.

“Well then you’ll have to gather more information on your robbers” I pointed out “see what they’re after.”

“Information” Charlie murmured then quickly stood up closing his laptop with a snap. “I have to go.” with that he had dashed from the barn.

“It seems you’ve inspired him young Abigail,” Larry sighed.

“Don’t call me Abigail please” I asked the professor “and I don’t know what I did to inspire him”

Larry made a humming noise as I got up from my seat on the floor. “Well does it matter how in the grand scheme of things really?” he asked philosophically. “Whether you meant to inspire him or not it is still the outcome” I nodded lightly in agreement. “So if not Abigail what would you prefer to be called?”

“Abby” I stated thinking it was rather obvious considering everyone else just called me Abby.

Larry let out another humming noise. “You know you are quite a unique being”

“Thanks” I murmured not sure where he was going with this.

“You have a mind such as your uncles but your traits portray your father in quite a respect for you only having known both for a month. A true statement of nature versus nurture” Larry observed “you are an enigma”

“Okay” I sighed “then call me the enigma”

Larry nodded and stood up “very well then” and with that he left the garage. I hoped he realized I wasn’t being serious. _______________ “Here you go, Pop.” Charlie called walking out of the kitchen with a bowl in his hands. “I got it.” he sat it down “now you got it.”

“Thank you,” Alan replied.

“Spoon” Charlie stated holding up the utensil.

I scoffed “I think he knows what a spoon is Uncle C”

My uncle gave me a look and messed up my hair with a small shove like gesture as he went to sit down next to me. He didn’t sit however as just then the main door opened. “Hello” my father called.

“Donnie!” Alan greeted getting to his feet. “Wow, it’s good to see you.”

“Oh, you guys ate. I’m starving” Don voiced coming into the dining room.

“Ah there’s plenty come on” Alan objected quickly.

“Yeah?” the agent clarified “did Terry call, tell you guys what happened?”

“Yeah, she said you arrested every suspect.” Charlie informed shuffling back toward the kitchen. “Only one shot fired, huh?”

“That’s impressive.” I mused “snipers are cool.” Don gave me a look as he made his way to the seat at the head of the table “sniper math is cool” I emphasized pointedly.

“One? How’d you pull that off?” Alan inquired.

“We knew roughly where’d they’d try to hit the next shipment,” Don explained as Charlie disappeared to get him some food. While I turned back to consuming mine. “And I knew they’d have an escape plan.”

“That’s very clever.” Gramps declared digging into his dinner.

“Out thinking the bad guys” I voiced “that’s got to be fun”

“Keep talking like that and someone might think you want to join the FBI” Don muttered giving me a look.

I shrugged and held up my hands in a defensive gesture “hey I don’t even know what I’m doing once I escape high school” I explained “don’t go pegging me to early”

“And I don’t think I can take two members of the family dodging bullets for a career” Alan voiced.

“Yeah well, I guess I was inspired by Mr. Heisenberg” Don continued as he went to grab a beer in the kitchen. “Just like Charlie here suggested”

“Heisenberg?” Alan gave Charlie a perplexed look. “You mean, the physicist?”

“Yeah” Don called in reply.

I chuckled lightly as Charlie took the seat next to me “Don goes to confront a bunch of crazy and armed bank robbers and your pep talk is about the movement of subatomic particles?”

“Yep” Charlie replied simply. Me and Alan exchanged an amused look. “It worked, didn’t it?”

“Yes” Alan replied. “I guess it did.” There was a moment as Don joined us at the table and we all turned to our food but Alan “I’m telling you,” he began “if your mother could see you two guys now, she would be… so happy” he voiced and turned to me “and Abby. She would have loved to have known you”

I smiled lightly as the brothers exchanged a look themselves. “How are you doing on your P vs. P thing?” Don inquired after a moment.

“NP?” Charlie corrected with an amused breath.

“Sorry” Don murmured.

“I’m not pursuing it anymore.” the mathematician declared.

“No?” the agent questioned.

“I got plenty of problems to work on,” Charlie explained “ones that I think I can actually solve.”

Don nodded “Glad to hear it.” The two clinked their glasses and Alan raised his. I grabbed my glass of water as well and we all knocked glasses in the center taking a sip. As normal table conversation resumed. I found myself smiling. I was among family.

Chapter 3 -> 


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4 years ago
rora-s - Rora S.
4 years ago

list of favorite things as a fanfic author:

When someone is really freaking mad at me for inducing an emotional response from them

when readers give me a background of how/when they read my writing

when readers give me a background of why they shouldn’t have been reading my writing (usually while at work)

when readers quote my work back to me in comments

the frickin’ real heroes here, the ones who comment on every chapter of an ongoing multi-chapter fic

4 years ago
3 years ago

literally if you’re new to tumblr: reblog shit

“it wont fit my aesthetic” make a sideblog. reblog to it.

“i hate tagging” don’t tag then. reblog it anyway.

“but my likes are public” ppl here dont fucking look at your likes. they dont do anything anyway. reblog it.

“you just want attention” jokes on you, I dont make shit anymore. I’m talking about other artists.

“it’s embarrassing” tumblr is an anonymous platform. make a sideblog if you’re too cowardly

“but on twitter its fine to have lurk accounts” well they suck ass here and are assumed to be bots. reblog.


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4 years ago

Life Series Book 1  Chapter 1: Broken Peace

Life Series Book 1  Chapter 1: Broken Peace

“Arbor Eliffe! You get back here young lady!” I ran at top speed as Mrs. Greenwood yelled after me brandishing her woven basket over her head. 

I laughed like a maniac as I happily got away with the pockets of my jacket stuffed with cookies. However I hadn’t quite reached the woods when a hand reached out and pulled me back by the collar of my coat. 

I turned and smiled sheepishly at my father. He didn’t say anything as Mrs. Greenwood caught up to us. “Burian she’s done it again” the woman huffed her breath making little clouds in the cold air with each exhale. “Stole the whole tray the little troublemaker” she prodded me in the stomach with her basket which made me squirm from where my small frame was still being held up by my father gripping my collar. 

“I’m sorry Lavender, I'll have Camella bake you a fresh batch if you would like” my father offered.

I looked up at the adults talking over my head. “Hey I still have ‘em here in my pocket” I explained. Reaching in I pulled out a handful of crushed cookies.

My father sighed and Mrs. Greenwood let off a noise that sounded an awful lot like a growl. “I’ll be waiting for your wife’s delivery,” the woman declared turning on her stubby legs and hobbling back to her little cottage. I stuck my tongue out at her back. 

“Arbor” my father spoke scoldingly. 

“What?!” I exclaimed “she’s a mean old woman!” 

My dad let off a breath “that’s not-” he was cut off by a tearing noise and in the next moment my butt was in the snow. I looked up to see the torn collar of my coat in my father’s hand. “Let’s go home,” he declared defeatedly. “We’ll talk there” 

I followed my father through our small village. Cradled in a little glen it was a peaceful, wintery world all to our own. It was mostly filled with Dryads like my family and Mrs. Greenwood but we had the occasional animal friend who came to say. The Beavers who lived in the nearby dam came over every once and awhile to buy some things and a family of deer had a hollow down the road. 

It was a calm place most of the time. However there were times when we would hear the bells of the queen’s carriage or the pounding feet of the security police pack and would have to go inside. Those times me and mother would wait in the back room until father came and got us. To tell us things were safe. 

When me and father got home the first thing he did was take my coat and dump the pockets into the trash bin. Which I felt was a great waste. Then we headed into the kitchen where my mother was cooking. “Darling is that you?” she called over her shoulder. 

“It’s both of us” my father replied “someone got in trouble with Lavender Greenwood again” 

“Hey she’s the one that hordes all those goodies she bakes” I argued “and I’m not the only one who steals them” 

“Yes you’re just the one who gets caught the most” my mother chuckled turning around. She came over to the pair of us “i’ll make Lavender a new batch of cookies” she looked down at me squinting her eyes “oh look you’ve got dirt on your face” she murmured raising her apron to wipe my cheeks. 

“Mom” I whined. “It’s just a little dirt from Mrs. Greenwood’s garden.” she continued to scrub at my face “why are you making her cookies anyway? She’s the mean one who’s always glaring” 

My mother sighed, apparently giving up on getting my face clean. “How about I double the recipe then and we can keep the extra batch?”

“I quite like that plan” I smiled as she stood. 

“Oh so you’re rewarding our little thief here now are you?” my father inquired of my mother with a smirk. 

“Well Mrs. Greenwood is quite the grouchy old woman” mother pointed out. I gave my father a proud smirk having said something very similar earlier. 

“What am I to do with you two?” the man of the house sighed. 

“Love us” I cheered. 

“I quite like that answer” mother laughed lightly. Then she noticed my father holding my coat. “Oh what happened to your coat?” she inquired coming over. 

“Dad ripped it” I pointed up at the man quickly. 

“Nice” he grumbled down at me. 

I shrugged “it’s the truth” 

“Alright well we’ll get this fixed up then” the woman declared taking up the torn fabric. She sat it off to the side and returned to making dinner. 

“Come here kid” my father picked me up and sat me on the table. “We have to talk about all this stealing you’ve been doing. Mrs. Greenwood’s cookies, yarn from Mr. Orchard.” 

“It’s not stealing” I objected “it’s borrowing” 

“Do you return it?” my father inquired. I didn’t answer because I knew he was right “exactly now you can’t do that alright. Your five years old Arbor you have to understand. People work hard to make or earn the things you just take.” 

“But I work hard to take them,” I explained. “I had to wait for an hour outside Mrs. Greenwood’s window for her to place the cookies out and then even longer for them to cool off.” 

I heard my mother chuckle and my father sighed “listen Arbor things have value beyond just the work you put into them. Things like the value of promises and hope and love” my father sighed and sat down. “Here I’ll tell you a story. There once was a great king of Narnia. A king by the name of Aslan back in a time when our people would dance and bloom. Green grassy hills and fields filled with colorful flowers, petals drifting on the wind. Great celebrations with singing and dancing with the fauns and centaurs and all the other creatures of the wood.” 

“That sounds incredible,” I explained. “You would dance outside in the snow?” 

“There was no snow then” the man objected “Before this eternal winter there was once the four seasons. There was spring where things would grow and bloom and we’d have rainy days to splash in puddles. Summer where it would get so hot in the day we would all relax in the shade and play music, we’d have bonfires and tell stories. Autumn when all the trees would turn beautiful colors and we would harvest the fields preparing great feasts and parties. Then when winter would come it would be a short time where we’d go sledding, build snowmen, snuggle inside with warm drinks, and give gifts to one another” 

“Wow” I exclaimed in awe imagining such a world “what happened?” 

My father’s joyous smile faltered “it was stolen away from us by the White Witch.” my father explained he glanced over at my mother who had been watching us as she cooked. Her face heavy, and rigid in concern and sadness. “She came and she stole and she destroyed, Arbor. She took our joy and our happiness she took all the magic from our beautiful world and filled it with winter and sadness and fear” 

“That’s awful” I murmured looking out the window at the white snow falling outside.  

“She stole Arbor and she destroyed this entire land do you understand now why you must never steal what belongs to another?” he asked. 

I nodded quickly “but there has to be some way to end this winter? I want to see spring, summer, autumn” 

My father smiled warmly. Then looked around as if he expected us to be overheard before scooting closer. “There is a prophecy left to us by Aslan.” he cleared his throat dramatically before continuing “it goes: When Adam’s flesh and Adam’s bone sits in Car Paraval in throne the evil time will be over and done.” 

“Wow” I breathed, keeping my voice low in a mirror of his “what does it mean?” 

“It means that one day two sons of Adam and two daughters of Eve. In other words two human boys and two human girls will come into this land and vanquish the White Witch restoring all we once had to Narnia” 

I let off an excited giggle “they’ll bring spring back?” I questioned loudly. 

“Shh shh” my father hushed lightly “yes they will.” he sighed and reached a hand out to touch my cheek “oh and my dear Arbor I hope you get to see it” 

There was a moment of silence in the house before mother sighed “alright you two enough story time” she decreed. “Burian I need you to go pick me some more apples for the crumble” 

“I can do it mom” I exclaimed jumping from the table. “I want to go see Malic” 

“Oh alright but your coat is torn” my mother observed. 

“Here she can borrow mine, it's not that far to Malic’s orchard,” my father offered. He picked his jacket from the back of his chair and wrapped it around me. It smelled like him, warm and comforting. Like pine needles and old wood. The jacket was far too large for me made of brown leather, however it didn’t drag on the ground and I could move in it. “There that should suffice for your small journey” 

“Here” Mother handed me a basket. “Alright now it’s getting late so off to Malic’s and then straight back here for dinner” 

“Yes ma’am” I nodded in agreement as I shuffled to the door. “I love you!” 

“Love you too darling” father replied. 

“Love you” my mother also voiced kissing my forehead and then ushering me out the door. 

I ran down the snowy lane. Weaving past ice patches and giving an extra big smile to the glowering Mrs. Greenwood as I passed by her Cottage. Entering the woods I navigated among the trees with practiced ease. I reached my destination with a happy squeal. 

“Malic!” I greeted the aged apple tree. He rustled his branches in greeting. I reached up and placed a hand to his trunk leaning in. I felt the life rushing below and within his bark. I felt a weight hit my arm and looked to see an apple had fallen into my basket. “Oh thank you mother sent me to collect some for a crumble she’s making.” I explained. 

Malic reached down with his branched and I climbed up among them. I loved going high up into the air and looking out at the woods. Sitting in his branches I began to pick offered apples and tell him the grand story my father had told to me. Malic allowed me to jabber at him for a long time before I finally realized the sun was setting behind me and it was getting dark. 

“Oh I have to go, my mother said to be back quickly” I told the tree. “I’ll be back tomorrow though” I promised. Malic let me down from his branches and I began to run back toward the village waving goodbye to my friend. 

I weaved among the growing shadows of the trees, my feet crunching in the snow. I was nearly out of the woods when I was brought to a stop as a scream split the air. Fear suddenly shot through my veins as my breathing picked up. I started forward again slowly as firelight came into view. I entered the glen and dropped my basket with a gasp at the sight. People were running around madly two of the houses of the village burned and another began to catch. 

Statues that looked a lot like people I knew stood along the street in frozen images of terror. Shielding themselves from whatever was about to attack them. Standing there in the middle of it, just as frozen as the statues around her, crystal white with a gleaming scepter in her hand admiring the chaos with a look that could only be described as a chilling evil. The White Witch. 

I stood there staring as screaming was all around me just looking at her. Then someone grabbed my arm. I turned to see the panicked eyes of Mrs. Greenwood. “Arbor, come this way quickly!” she whispered urgently and dragged me off toward her house. We came inside and she pulled me over to a place on the floor. Lifting a hatch she rushed me down into the little crawl space below. “Stay here” she whispered hurriedly looking over her shoulder. 

“Where’s my mom and dad?” I asked desperately. 

“Shhh” she hushed me quickly. “Just stay quiet and stay hidden. Arbor please stay here until everything is quiet please promise me”

“I promise” I agreed, too terrified to do much else. She closed the hatch and I heard what sounded like her slapping the carpet back over it. The small space suddenly became very dark. I curled up into myself and listened.

There were screams and crashing and yelling and the roar of fire and things falling more screaming. I covered my ears and rolled on my side burying my head into my father’s jacket. Praying for peace. 

It was a long time before there was finally peace. I remained hidden in the darkness long after there was silence listening in fear. However, eventually I rose from my place on the floor and pushed on the hatch with my shaking hands. Slowly it creaked open. Climbing out I looked around. The house above was trashed, the table overturned and the door crashed in. Gentle morning light was pouring in from every crack in the walls and through the shattered glass in the window. 

Slowly I walked forward. Every step sounded far too loud in the chilling quiet. I exited the house and looked around in despair. Half the village was burned to the ground. The street was empty. I walked on down the road heading for home. Praying that it was safe hoping my parents were there waiting for me. Hoping they would be there to tell me everything was alright. The more I thought of them the faster I went until I was running around the corner to my house. 

I stopped dead in my tracks. It was gone. The entire home was ruble. Burnt to a chard crisp. I felt tears threatening my eyes as I looked around and didn’t see anyone. “Mom? Dad?” I called into the silence. There was no response “Mom?! Dad?!” I called louder. Still nothing I called again and my voice broke as my knees buckled. They were gone. 


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4 years ago
UK Residents SIGN HERE On The Government Petition
UK Residents SIGN HERE On The Government Petition
UK Residents SIGN HERE On The Government Petition
UK Residents SIGN HERE On The Government Petition

UK residents SIGN HERE on the government petition

https://transrightsuk.carrd.co/

https://uktransrights.carrd.co/

please, if you’re a UK resident, trans or not, please speak out on behalf of your trans family, friends. we suffer enough without the right to self-identify in the UK

if you aren’t from the UK please share this so that more Uk residents can see and speak up.

3 years ago
rora-s - Rora S.
4 years ago

[Watching Raiders of the Lost Ark]

Son: Who are the bad guys in this movie? Husband: The Nazis. [pause for a beat] Again. Except not in space this time.  Me: Yes, Nazis, take note: whether you’re on land or in space, either way Harrison Ford is coming to foil your plans. 

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rora-s - Rora S.
Rora S.

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