Goldenness

She thought about it carefully. This was a delicate proposition at best. She would have to choose just the right words. Words that would convey exactly what she was thinking. Neither too heavy nor too light. There was a balance that they would have to strike. Her words, like little iron weights, hexagons with numbers written on them. Tricky devils. With their shaded nuances and their tonal leanings. She would make it perfect this time, though. Make it all okay. Make the sadness evaporate. Like magic. She just had to figure out what the right words were.


She settled for a hug.



This should have been a big, long, Flaffy-ishtyle theory post but couldn't drum up the energy. Soon to come, though.

What to Do with the Rest of the Day's Afternoon?

She decided to go to the book store. Amazon was fine and all but there was something about those rows and rows of books. Smelling of paper and print and untouched-ness. She imagined walking down the Austen shelf, trailing her fingers along the spines. Pride and Prejudice, Mansfield Park, Persuasion. She'd read them them out in her head. Count the leads off. Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy. Fanny Price and Henry Crawford. Anne Elliot and Frederick Wentworth. And Edmund Bertram. Poor Edmund. And then maybe she'd sit down and read Northanger Abbey for a bit. She couldn't think of a better way to get over a broken heart. Irritation's such a perfect melancholy-obscurer.

If you haven't heard the song, you should. Least for the guitar (well, not in this version). And his singing. And just generally.

This Happiness Shindig

Lying in bed at noon, staring at the ceiling. Last night had started out just fine, trailed into disaster and sometime at 3 in the morning, over kettle-cooked, pulled itself out of the dark hole in which it was languishing. Her feet still ached from dancing. And she hadn't even worn stilettos. She heard the bathroom door close softly and she turned in time to see the crack of light appear under the door. She only realized she was smiling after the smile had spread itself all over her face. This whole happiness thing was a lot easier than people made it out to be. No?