(no subject)
What with the play and everything going on, Will Shakespeare had barely had time to write. Which, mind you, was a good thing as he was having more and more difficulty writing as he tried to progress with the play. It was difficult to decide what was important and what was not, who should be included and who shouldn't and it all turned into a great mess that only the other voices in his head would know about.
Today, however, he was neither writing nor working on the play (aside from attending rehearsal later, but he didn't exactly count that as 'work'). Today, Will Shakespeare had decided that he wanted to play. It was a bit odd for him, but after watching the building progress on the playground he thought more and more of is own youth in Stratford and on the little time he spent actually running around and being a little boy. It was sad, really when he thought about it. He'd been so busy trying to grow up and become great that he'd hardly had time to enjoy the flowers of his youth while they still bloomed. Then again, that had been his problem with Anne as well, hadn't it? Too much too soon.
He stood outside, glaring a little at the trampoline Delirium had made him jump on so many weeks ago. Reluctantly, he climbed up on the thing and started to bounce. Soon, he was no longer cross with the too large elastic demon (it had, on the first occasion he'd visited it, made him so dizzy from jumping that he'd nearly gotten sick) and was laughing and bouncing as high as he could. By God's teeth, but this was fun!
[ooc: poet onna trampoline! open to anyone!]
Today, however, he was neither writing nor working on the play (aside from attending rehearsal later, but he didn't exactly count that as 'work'). Today, Will Shakespeare had decided that he wanted to play. It was a bit odd for him, but after watching the building progress on the playground he thought more and more of is own youth in Stratford and on the little time he spent actually running around and being a little boy. It was sad, really when he thought about it. He'd been so busy trying to grow up and become great that he'd hardly had time to enjoy the flowers of his youth while they still bloomed. Then again, that had been his problem with Anne as well, hadn't it? Too much too soon.
He stood outside, glaring a little at the trampoline Delirium had made him jump on so many weeks ago. Reluctantly, he climbed up on the thing and started to bounce. Soon, he was no longer cross with the too large elastic demon (it had, on the first occasion he'd visited it, made him so dizzy from jumping that he'd nearly gotten sick) and was laughing and bouncing as high as he could. By God's teeth, but this was fun!
[ooc: poet onna trampoline! open to anyone!]