Heart of the Cards
[Players: mai_lovely]
[Scene: With every card holds a name, and with every name a story. Backdated to Wednesday, December 9th, 2009.]
Mai had been taught that one of the most important pieces of correspondence one could send was the Christmas card. Not a holiday card, as her mother would gripe in this age of political correctness, but a Christmas card. She had been sending them since she moved out of the Valentine household, and even before that she was on envelope-stuffing duty with her sister. She would put the cards in the envelopes, and Melody would put the stamp on them. When her sister entered college, their names were no longer put on her parents’ cards and so she had to wish people a merry season on her own.
In all her thirty years, she hadn’t sent a card from anyone but herself. Even if she had a boyfriend over the winter, she always sent them from just her. Cards were a very personal thing for Mai. You couldn’t really split the essence of a card between two people, she felt. At least, she hadn’t found a person to sincerely split her sentiments with. It was a very rare case that her and her boyfriend both knew someone and both cared enough to send them a card.
As with any address list, there were the people that were card-only people. They were the ones that Mai only sent a Christmas card to, perhaps receiving one from them in return but never having any other contact with them the rest of the year. People like her dorm room neighbor from her sophomore year of college, the colleague that she’d met at a trade show, or even the forgotten ex that wasn’t cold enough to completely neglect. On the other end of the spectrum were the people she saw multiple times a week, but who she thought would enjoy one more piece of mail. In between were all sorts of acquaintances. Mai never pared down her address book for Christmas cards. It was a paper bridge that shouldn’t be burned.
At her desk at home, after putting on a fairly modern CD of rehashed orchestral Christmas music, Mai Valentine began the task of signing cards and addressing envelopes.
They had only met up a couple of times, but she was glad to be sending a card to him. He had a knack for cooling the waters when they were starting to boil. He was the definition of help to her. If she needed more technical assistance, his business card was at the ready. It wasn’t that they weren’t friendly; it was that they were very job-oriented.
Of course this address was a post office box. He would never have mail sent directly to him. She thought of his expression when he opened the card; hopefully it would be a small smirk of amusement but she wasn’t sure. Did the C.E.O.s of corporations display their cards? Or did they toss the pile in a drawer? She was hoping that in the coming year she could meet with him again, even briefly. His debonair was something that she missed.
The Phoenix Rising wouldn’t be soaring if it weren’t for him. He had been the best assistant she could hope for, especially when it came to signing on new employees. The laughs they shared over those interviews could sustain her for a year. She wanted to write an in-joke on the card, but she decided against it in favor of the traditional signature and greeting. They’d talk about it later, when they were on the same shift. She hoped he was holding down the fort tonight.
Normally Mai had no qualms about putting two or three names on a card, but she felt that this duo at least earned separate cards. First, an envelope addressed to one of her closest friends in the city and one of the only female friends that she had stuck with. Mai wasn’t a tomboy but she was rough around some edges, and to find another woman with similar jags and cuts was a breath of fresh air. She had even gotten Mai to talk about things. Not just pontificate, but talk. With a smile, the blonde signed the card.
The next of the twins earned the same smile. Although she had been in the city for a few years, he had really shown her around the town. Mai knew that New York City was his lifeblood, and that type of passion was one that they shared. She hadn’t spoken to him in a while, but she wondered how he was getting on and promised herself she would call him someday soon. Maybe they could walk around Times Square at New Years. She wanted to ruffle his hair again. She sealed the envelope.
Of course, there were many more names and many more stories. She could recall everyone on her list at least briefly. The people she had met through friends of a friend. It was a small city, once she thought about it. Once you met someone, you met someone else. It created a reaction, a strong domino effect. Soon she would know the whole Big Apple, down to its core.
Mai looked at the pile of Christmas cards on her desk, stacked high and finally completed. It always felt to her like sending them out was the curtain call. After all, it was the end of the year. Like bottles sent out from a deserted island, they drifted along the currents and reached their destination regardless of whether or not the recipient read it. She had done something on her end, which was enough for her peace of mind.
Then the year would begin again. She would be communicating with the same people, and not communicating with the same people, and the Phoenix Rising would be the same as well. Mai smirked. She always spoke to herself as though consistency were a bad thing. But then again, she could never predict consistency, and if she was lucky this year would throw her curveballs that she could hit.
She was looking forward to the next year. It was the beginning of a new decade. Something would change. Something always did.
-*-*-
From tragic_elegance: Thank you, DE! Thank you for making me write, and making me want to write. I wouldn't have to stop with Mai for a while if it weren't for you. Funny world. ^_^ I'm actually getting sad writing this.
Feel free to ask about using the Phoenix in later posts in dopplereffected, as well.
To everyone in the group, you are all amazing people and I'm glad to have worked with you. I'm not going anywhere on LJ, so I'll see you all soon. ♥ ♥ ♥
[Scene: With every card holds a name, and with every name a story. Backdated to Wednesday, December 9th, 2009.]
Mai had been taught that one of the most important pieces of correspondence one could send was the Christmas card. Not a holiday card, as her mother would gripe in this age of political correctness, but a Christmas card. She had been sending them since she moved out of the Valentine household, and even before that she was on envelope-stuffing duty with her sister. She would put the cards in the envelopes, and Melody would put the stamp on them. When her sister entered college, their names were no longer put on her parents’ cards and so she had to wish people a merry season on her own.
In all her thirty years, she hadn’t sent a card from anyone but herself. Even if she had a boyfriend over the winter, she always sent them from just her. Cards were a very personal thing for Mai. You couldn’t really split the essence of a card between two people, she felt. At least, she hadn’t found a person to sincerely split her sentiments with. It was a very rare case that her and her boyfriend both knew someone and both cared enough to send them a card.
As with any address list, there were the people that were card-only people. They were the ones that Mai only sent a Christmas card to, perhaps receiving one from them in return but never having any other contact with them the rest of the year. People like her dorm room neighbor from her sophomore year of college, the colleague that she’d met at a trade show, or even the forgotten ex that wasn’t cold enough to completely neglect. On the other end of the spectrum were the people she saw multiple times a week, but who she thought would enjoy one more piece of mail. In between were all sorts of acquaintances. Mai never pared down her address book for Christmas cards. It was a paper bridge that shouldn’t be burned.
At her desk at home, after putting on a fairly modern CD of rehashed orchestral Christmas music, Mai Valentine began the task of signing cards and addressing envelopes.
They had only met up a couple of times, but she was glad to be sending a card to him. He had a knack for cooling the waters when they were starting to boil. He was the definition of help to her. If she needed more technical assistance, his business card was at the ready. It wasn’t that they weren’t friendly; it was that they were very job-oriented.
Of course this address was a post office box. He would never have mail sent directly to him. She thought of his expression when he opened the card; hopefully it would be a small smirk of amusement but she wasn’t sure. Did the C.E.O.s of corporations display their cards? Or did they toss the pile in a drawer? She was hoping that in the coming year she could meet with him again, even briefly. His debonair was something that she missed.
The Phoenix Rising wouldn’t be soaring if it weren’t for him. He had been the best assistant she could hope for, especially when it came to signing on new employees. The laughs they shared over those interviews could sustain her for a year. She wanted to write an in-joke on the card, but she decided against it in favor of the traditional signature and greeting. They’d talk about it later, when they were on the same shift. She hoped he was holding down the fort tonight.
Normally Mai had no qualms about putting two or three names on a card, but she felt that this duo at least earned separate cards. First, an envelope addressed to one of her closest friends in the city and one of the only female friends that she had stuck with. Mai wasn’t a tomboy but she was rough around some edges, and to find another woman with similar jags and cuts was a breath of fresh air. She had even gotten Mai to talk about things. Not just pontificate, but talk. With a smile, the blonde signed the card.
The next of the twins earned the same smile. Although she had been in the city for a few years, he had really shown her around the town. Mai knew that New York City was his lifeblood, and that type of passion was one that they shared. She hadn’t spoken to him in a while, but she wondered how he was getting on and promised herself she would call him someday soon. Maybe they could walk around Times Square at New Years. She wanted to ruffle his hair again. She sealed the envelope.
Of course, there were many more names and many more stories. She could recall everyone on her list at least briefly. The people she had met through friends of a friend. It was a small city, once she thought about it. Once you met someone, you met someone else. It created a reaction, a strong domino effect. Soon she would know the whole Big Apple, down to its core.
Mai looked at the pile of Christmas cards on her desk, stacked high and finally completed. It always felt to her like sending them out was the curtain call. After all, it was the end of the year. Like bottles sent out from a deserted island, they drifted along the currents and reached their destination regardless of whether or not the recipient read it. She had done something on her end, which was enough for her peace of mind.
Then the year would begin again. She would be communicating with the same people, and not communicating with the same people, and the Phoenix Rising would be the same as well. Mai smirked. She always spoke to herself as though consistency were a bad thing. But then again, she could never predict consistency, and if she was lucky this year would throw her curveballs that she could hit.
She was looking forward to the next year. It was the beginning of a new decade. Something would change. Something always did.
-*-*-
From tragic_elegance: Thank you, DE! Thank you for making me write, and making me want to write. I wouldn't have to stop with Mai for a while if it weren't for you. Funny world. ^_^ I'm actually getting sad writing this.
Feel free to ask about using the Phoenix in later posts in dopplereffected, as well.
To everyone in the group, you are all amazing people and I'm glad to have worked with you. I'm not going anywhere on LJ, so I'll see you all soon. ♥ ♥ ♥