Happy Thanksgiving: NaNo Day 22
Day Twenty-two: 203 words
OK, hardly more than a drabble--but cut me some slack, it's Thanksgiving.
Well, it's Thanksgiving here in the states--which, btw, was instituted in the middle of the Civil War by Abraham Lincoln--I suppose because especially in turbulant times, it's good to think of what we should be grateful for. Among which I'll count my friends both virtual and non-pixel, and works of the imagination that provoke the mind and delight the senses--or something like that.
So, want to see our turkey? We're getting it from the famous Jive Turkey of Brooklyn that ships all across the country but for me is a subway ride away this morning. We'll be having Honey Pecan Turkey: "A glistening bird covered in a crunchy honey pecan coating." Gobble gobble...
I hope all of you will have a lovely time with your families--or at least survive sane and whole...
More Dame Sans Merci
At that I heard a rap on the door and we both turned. Rap--more the sound of an earthquake the way the door shook. I sighed. "Must be the Headmistress."
Maxime strode in with a short, fat man that made old Professor Flitwick look tall in garish purple silk robes. I could see Severus try to fight a small grin which faltered--no doubt taking his cue from me. I knew this man, and one never, ever took the Deputy for Magical Security, Ceasar Frank, lightly.
"My dears, the gentleman is just here to ask some questions." But Maxime's reassuring words fell flat as I saw Frank lick his lips at the sight of Severus. My stomach lurched, the gesture bringing back memories of Frank's interrogation of me when I'd emigrated here. That gesture and the gleam in his eyes told me he didn't think he was far from making an arrest--and that he'd chosen Severus as his target.
Happy Thanksgiving to those who celebrate it--and hell, I'll wish a g'day even to those who don't...