Re: Australia 1.
anonymous
November 20 2011, 00:27:47 UTC
“Well, you certainly have my attention now,” England said. Australia had a feeling his big brother meant something by it, but he didn’t know what. But England hadn’t told him to go back and he wasn’t the type to be shy about this stuff so Australia smiled. He laughed and climbed England’s desk and hugged England. England scolded him for ruining his papers, but those were about Australia anyway so he didn’t feel guilty. He could just tell England whatever he needed to know.
“Do yew really 'ave bloody castles what 'ave ghosts in 'em? And fairies an' unicorns?” he asked. It seemed greedy of him to want those too, but Australia was a child of thieves, he had no problems being greedy.
“I do. I suppose you can - stay here for a while.” England forced those last words between his teeth, like they had cost him something. He picked the papers up and shuffled them, but Australia was sure he couldn’t read them that quickly. He hugged England and petted his back because he didn’t know what to say. Sometimes it sucked being too young to understand.
NOT that he was going to let anyone get away with saying he was too young for anything!
“But you will have to learn proper Queen’s English. That will not do at all. I should wash your mouth with soap for some of that.” England wasn’t looking into Australia’s eye. Australia felt a bit hurt, but continued smiling. It was his golden day, he wasn’t going to be sad at all.
“For a while” turned out to be two years. Australia would have stayed longer, but he was needed back in his own soil, England decreed, he needed to learn to mind his own colonies properly. But those years were great, magical. At first England’s eyes would get that haunted look again and again, but Australia never said anything and that look made an appearance maybe one a month during the second year, if that. Australia saw a real fairy and a ghost and he didn’t feel too slighted at being cheated out of seeing a unicorn. He learned to speak like England wanted him to, he visited Wales many times and met Scotland and both Irelands. The mountain named America didn’t disappear entirely, for both years there was this Day when England would shut himself in his room and drink himself a bad, really not good, terrible hangover and not look Australia at all the next day, but it shrunk until it seemed like something he could fight and win instead of some insurmountable obstacle.
Australia didn’t cry or argue when it was time for him to leave. He was mature and all that shit, but he was determined also. That allowed him to go and do what he was needed o for the betterment of the Empire.
“If you won’t visit me, I’ll just come here again,” he shouted over the railing, waving his kerchief. The wind and waves sung in his ears and people shouted so loudly he couldn’t hear anything England might have said, but that was all right. England waved back and Australia was absolutely, totally sure he say England smile!
Take that, America!
Oak turns dark with age so when English antique-to-be furniture was made it would have been light. A funny, not really relevant historical fact of the day.
“Do yew really 'ave bloody castles what 'ave ghosts in 'em? And fairies an' unicorns?” he asked. It seemed greedy of him to want those too, but Australia was a child of thieves, he had no problems being greedy.
“I do. I suppose you can - stay here for a while.” England forced those last words between his teeth, like they had cost him something. He picked the papers up and shuffled them, but Australia was sure he couldn’t read them that quickly. He hugged England and petted his back because he didn’t know what to say. Sometimes it sucked being too young to understand.
NOT that he was going to let anyone get away with saying he was too young for anything!
“But you will have to learn proper Queen’s English. That will not do at all. I should wash your mouth with soap for some of that.” England wasn’t looking into Australia’s eye. Australia felt a bit hurt, but continued smiling. It was his golden day, he wasn’t going to be sad at all.
“For a while” turned out to be two years. Australia would have stayed longer, but he was needed back in his own soil, England decreed, he needed to learn to mind his own colonies properly. But those years were great, magical. At first England’s eyes would get that haunted look again and again, but Australia never said anything and that look made an appearance maybe one a month during the second year, if that. Australia saw a real fairy and a ghost and he didn’t feel too slighted at being cheated out of seeing a unicorn. He learned to speak like England wanted him to, he visited Wales many times and met Scotland and both Irelands. The mountain named America didn’t disappear entirely, for both years there was this Day when England would shut himself in his room and drink himself a bad, really not good, terrible hangover and not look Australia at all the next day, but it shrunk until it seemed like something he could fight and win instead of some insurmountable obstacle.
Australia didn’t cry or argue when it was time for him to leave. He was mature and all that shit, but he was determined also. That allowed him to go and do what he was needed o for the betterment of the Empire.
“If you won’t visit me, I’ll just come here again,” he shouted over the railing, waving his kerchief. The wind and waves sung in his ears and people shouted so loudly he couldn’t hear anything England might have said, but that was all right. England waved back and Australia was absolutely, totally sure he say England smile!
Take that, America!
Oak turns dark with age so when English antique-to-be furniture was made it would have been light. A funny, not really relevant historical fact of the day.
Reply
Leave a comment