This Is Just to Say; French drablet; PIC!
For
softlyforgotten , who did the poll. Will write more for the others promptly.
Title: This Is Just to Say
Summary: Straight from the fridge.
Rating: PG-13
Words: 333
Cho slipped the tip of the blade through the skin, which wrinkled slightly around the metal, and pressed it all the way through the red flesh until it came to a halt against the hardness inside. Crimson was already welling up around her fingers, sinking into the ridges of her skin and joining the grime underneath her nails.
She rotated the knife, ribboning it around through the dark skin until it came back to its starting point, the deflated bag sitting somewhat more lightly in her hand as the bright trail left by the slice glistened in the light and seeped into the bowl.
Lowering her head, Cho licked the juice of her fingers, the sour-tanged sweetness dancing on her tongue, and staining her lips red. Digging into the flesh, she pulled the two halves apart, ripping the plum open as its blood ran over her nails and into the white porcelain.
The fibres of the fruit hung on tightly to the stone, for dear life, and she had to shred the flesh off, as it shivered and swooned like anemone swaying beneath the sea, seen from above by a quiet, 8 year old girl. Like liquid rubies, like a kiss, lipstick, a handgrip of ‘don’t go’, or a pool of rage; the sun sank into the fruit.
The cool, slick stone slipped out of her hands, the flesh still attached gliding over her fingers as it fell. A drop of clear liquid (like plasma) with red particles suspended inside splashed out of the bowl and landed on her blouse (it wouldn’t wash out). The knife, still in her hand, suddenly shifted, and nicked her thumb, just deep enough to draw out a drop of blood. Falling into the juice, it sank slowly, languidly, spreading out and disappearing in its descent.
Her thumb stinging, Cho picked up the bowl and drank down the lot, leaving behind, when she left, the porcelain, stained red inside and out, a stone heart, and a sharp knife.
(Poem by William Carlos Williams, here.)
It's three sentences. But still.
eloiselovelace wants everyone to start writing fics in other languages. I obliged. (It's very grammatically incorrect probly, and written without a dictionary.)
Title: Aimer et Adorer (aka The French Thing)
Summary: Ginny Weasly n'aime pas Pansy Parkinson. Ginny Weasly doesn't like Pansy Parkinson.
Rating: G
Words: 57
Ginny Weasly n'aime pas Pansy Parkinson. Pansy est rich, et elle aime parler avec peuple qui sont rich, et n'aimons pas Ginny, n'aimons pas Muggles, et adorons Voldemort.
Mais, Ginny adore quand Pansy elle regarder, tout niege et blanc et rose, avec yeax ce n'aimons pas Ginny, mais adorons le rouge chevaux des Ginny, comme beaucoup fraise.
Ginny Weasley doesn't like Pansy Parkinson. Pansy is rich, and she likes to talk to people who are rich, and don't like Ginny, don't like Muggles, and love Voldemort.
But, Ginny loves when Pansy looks at her, all black and white and pink, with eyes that don't like Ginny, but love Ginny's red hair, like a lot of strawberries.
ETA: Correct French, provided by the lovely
eriathwen_bob!!
Ginny Weasly n'aime pas Pansy Parkinson. Pansy est riche, et elle aime parler avec les gens qui sont riches, et qui n'aiment pas Ginny, n'aiment pas les Muggles, et qui adorent Voldemort.
Cependent, Ginny adore pour Pansy elle regarde, tout niege et blanche et rose, avec les yeux qui n'aiment pas Ginny, mais qui adorent les cheveux rouges de Ginny, qui semblent comme beaucoup des fraises.
AAAAND, look what
orgasmicspork drew for me!! *excited* It's so pretty! *huggles pic and spork*
And you can see the whole lot of her I'm-bored-request-a-sketch here. They're gorgeous.
softlyforgotten , who did the poll. Will write more for the others promptly.
Title: This Is Just to Say
Summary: Straight from the fridge.
Rating: PG-13
Words: 333
Cho slipped the tip of the blade through the skin, which wrinkled slightly around the metal, and pressed it all the way through the red flesh until it came to a halt against the hardness inside. Crimson was already welling up around her fingers, sinking into the ridges of her skin and joining the grime underneath her nails.
She rotated the knife, ribboning it around through the dark skin until it came back to its starting point, the deflated bag sitting somewhat more lightly in her hand as the bright trail left by the slice glistened in the light and seeped into the bowl.
Lowering her head, Cho licked the juice of her fingers, the sour-tanged sweetness dancing on her tongue, and staining her lips red. Digging into the flesh, she pulled the two halves apart, ripping the plum open as its blood ran over her nails and into the white porcelain.
The fibres of the fruit hung on tightly to the stone, for dear life, and she had to shred the flesh off, as it shivered and swooned like anemone swaying beneath the sea, seen from above by a quiet, 8 year old girl. Like liquid rubies, like a kiss, lipstick, a handgrip of ‘don’t go’, or a pool of rage; the sun sank into the fruit.
The cool, slick stone slipped out of her hands, the flesh still attached gliding over her fingers as it fell. A drop of clear liquid (like plasma) with red particles suspended inside splashed out of the bowl and landed on her blouse (it wouldn’t wash out). The knife, still in her hand, suddenly shifted, and nicked her thumb, just deep enough to draw out a drop of blood. Falling into the juice, it sank slowly, languidly, spreading out and disappearing in its descent.
Her thumb stinging, Cho picked up the bowl and drank down the lot, leaving behind, when she left, the porcelain, stained red inside and out, a stone heart, and a sharp knife.
(Poem by William Carlos Williams, here.)
It's three sentences. But still.
eloiselovelace wants everyone to start writing fics in other languages. I obliged. (It's very grammatically incorrect probly, and written without a dictionary.)
Title: Aimer et Adorer (aka The French Thing)
Summary: Ginny Weasly n'aime pas Pansy Parkinson. Ginny Weasly doesn't like Pansy Parkinson.
Rating: G
Words: 57
Ginny Weasly n'aime pas Pansy Parkinson. Pansy est rich, et elle aime parler avec peuple qui sont rich, et n'aimons pas Ginny, n'aimons pas Muggles, et adorons Voldemort.
Mais, Ginny adore quand Pansy elle regarder, tout niege et blanc et rose, avec yeax ce n'aimons pas Ginny, mais adorons le rouge chevaux des Ginny, comme beaucoup fraise.
Ginny Weasley doesn't like Pansy Parkinson. Pansy is rich, and she likes to talk to people who are rich, and don't like Ginny, don't like Muggles, and love Voldemort.
But, Ginny loves when Pansy looks at her, all black and white and pink, with eyes that don't like Ginny, but love Ginny's red hair, like a lot of strawberries.
ETA: Correct French, provided by the lovely
eriathwen_bob!!
Ginny Weasly n'aime pas Pansy Parkinson. Pansy est riche, et elle aime parler avec les gens qui sont riches, et qui n'aiment pas Ginny, n'aiment pas les Muggles, et qui adorent Voldemort.
Cependent, Ginny adore pour Pansy elle regarde, tout niege et blanche et rose, avec les yeux qui n'aiment pas Ginny, mais qui adorent les cheveux rouges de Ginny, qui semblent comme beaucoup des fraises.
AAAAND, look what
orgasmicspork drew for me!! *excited* It's so pretty! *huggles pic and spork*
And you can see the whole lot of her I'm-bored-request-a-sketch here. They're gorgeous.