Anomie is playing with broken glass
Who: Anomie and Open
What: playing and making "charms"
Where: Southern District Forest
When: Thursday around mid afternoon when the sun is bright
Warnings: sharp stuff?
The piece of glass sparkles in the sunlight, clear and bright and splotched with the dark brown of dried blood.
That part doesn’t sparkle very well.
Neither does the muddy fingerprints that Anomie leaves on the small fragments that she is playing with at the base of a tree near her bog.
She had gone back looking for the glass tree, but it was gone, and all she found were some bits of metal wire. But that’s okay, she can play with those too.
And some leaves and some twigs and some bark, some mud and stones and pieces of cloth and string that she come across. Twists of paper and sea shells and fish bones. A dead bug she found and some black feathers. The broken pieces of a plastic cake that didn’t taste good at all.
Playing is not exactly the right word.
Anomie is playing, it’s a game after all, everything is, but she’s going about it so intently; laying on her stomach on a patch of grass, head bent over the assorted collection of treasures, boots swinging idly in the air.
The boggles on the network were frightened. Boggles aren’t supposed to be frightened, right? She’s not afraid. She doesn’t actually understand what they are afraid of, having not paid close enough attention to any of the explanations.
Someone bad was coming, a Big Bad Boggle, right?
Well, how do you keep boggles away? With charms, of course! But those are evil. She knows that.
But do they have to be? The Aaron-boggle spit up glass, glass like the tree he was bound to. What a bad BAD charm. Could she scare off the big bad boggle-charm maker if she made her own?
She wouldn’t have to use a dead boggle for that, right? These pieces of glass already have boggle-blood on them.
And they’re so very shiny.
.