(no subject)
Nancy's Story
for Shernancia :p
Nancy lived in the city, brimming with buildings, filled with people. There were all kinds of buildings. Tall ones, short ones. Long-wide ones with sleepy windows, and tall thin ones with narrow windows that she sometimes dreamt held princesses.
But then she moved to the country, where the buildings were few and far between. They gathered on wide open roads, making patches of shade in the strong summer sun. She was even more shocked to learn that not all of them held people, that there wasn’t life lurking behind the sunken wooden walls.
She spent days wandering around the empty buildings, weaving around their crumbled siding and untouched boxwoods. Her heart raced when she ducked from invisible villains, even though they were nothing more than the rushing air of a bird flying over or the humble waddle of an opossum. These buildings were her stables, her dungeons. All she needed next was a castle and a king to rule it.
One day she found her castle, sitting proud and hollow on a plot of grass on a cracked and untended road. Gnarled pear trees dotted the property, interspersed with rogue Canna Lilies and feral Tulips. Roses climbed its five stories of stone as easily as a ladder vaulting the roof where tender edges of trees dotted the edges. However, her kingdom was inaccessible, its perimeter guarded with a chain-link moat.
For days she circled the walls, searching for holes in its armor, the little diamonds of wire. As she did this, she surveyed her new lands. The new stables would be go there. Certainly the feast hall would be in here. Most of all she loved the small chariots that scattered the grounds. Some had even escaped the fencing to be encased in ivy. No rot had yet captured the plastic-y leather stretched over the wire, wheeled chairs.
But a pathway opened to her, the way through the fence shown by the tiny prints of foxes. The cool metal of the door knob felt unreal after so many weeks of watching her fantasies unfold. Terrifyingly, the door creaked open, and soft scuttling greeted her ears. It was the first time that this place’s occupants had to run from intruders for decades.
The paint peeling off the wall in flowers, sterile hospital white blossoming into the black, yellows, and greens of mold. Light filtered in, softened by the green shade of the leaves and thick motes of freshly stirred dust. To Nancy, it was magical golden light. A starling in the window was struck by it, turning to a bird studded with marvelous jewels. Hesitantly it hopped down the hall, guiding the way amongst gurneys and rubble.
for Shernancia :p
Nancy lived in the city, brimming with buildings, filled with people. There were all kinds of buildings. Tall ones, short ones. Long-wide ones with sleepy windows, and tall thin ones with narrow windows that she sometimes dreamt held princesses.
But then she moved to the country, where the buildings were few and far between. They gathered on wide open roads, making patches of shade in the strong summer sun. She was even more shocked to learn that not all of them held people, that there wasn’t life lurking behind the sunken wooden walls.
She spent days wandering around the empty buildings, weaving around their crumbled siding and untouched boxwoods. Her heart raced when she ducked from invisible villains, even though they were nothing more than the rushing air of a bird flying over or the humble waddle of an opossum. These buildings were her stables, her dungeons. All she needed next was a castle and a king to rule it.
One day she found her castle, sitting proud and hollow on a plot of grass on a cracked and untended road. Gnarled pear trees dotted the property, interspersed with rogue Canna Lilies and feral Tulips. Roses climbed its five stories of stone as easily as a ladder vaulting the roof where tender edges of trees dotted the edges. However, her kingdom was inaccessible, its perimeter guarded with a chain-link moat.
For days she circled the walls, searching for holes in its armor, the little diamonds of wire. As she did this, she surveyed her new lands. The new stables would be go there. Certainly the feast hall would be in here. Most of all she loved the small chariots that scattered the grounds. Some had even escaped the fencing to be encased in ivy. No rot had yet captured the plastic-y leather stretched over the wire, wheeled chairs.
But a pathway opened to her, the way through the fence shown by the tiny prints of foxes. The cool metal of the door knob felt unreal after so many weeks of watching her fantasies unfold. Terrifyingly, the door creaked open, and soft scuttling greeted her ears. It was the first time that this place’s occupants had to run from intruders for decades.
The paint peeling off the wall in flowers, sterile hospital white blossoming into the black, yellows, and greens of mold. Light filtered in, softened by the green shade of the leaves and thick motes of freshly stirred dust. To Nancy, it was magical golden light. A starling in the window was struck by it, turning to a bird studded with marvelous jewels. Hesitantly it hopped down the hall, guiding the way amongst gurneys and rubble.