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Leon couldn't quite stand still as he waited outside the little cottage that had once been his sister's home. Now it was home only to Robbie and to the twins - his nephews, he reminded himself - but in his mind it would always be Cecilia's. Shifting from foot to foot and fingers fiddling behind his back, he gazed about the little house, looking for ( Read more... ) -
Plotting between the lines-
Presumably, our pups have lives that happen when we aren't playing them, as none of us can play 24/7. Some of the things that happen are tedious and everyday, and not worth thinking much on: It's fair to assume they eat, bathe, go to "work" or school as it applies, etc. But there might be things that happen between pups that, while not necessarily ( Read more... ) -
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Once upon a time, Leon had never found it difficult to speak to Cecilia. Growing up they had been more friends than siblings. They had been playmates, confidantes. Leon and Cecilia Tallis against the world it had been, once upon a time ( Read more... ) -
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Any passing individual who had happened to follow Leon's path over the last hour would have come away baffled. He had left the Compound that morning, determination in his step and calm resolve in his outward expression. Then, at a seemingly random point, something in his expression had faltered. He had turned back the way he came, had taken a few ( Read more... ) -
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Leon had never excelled at facing problems head-on. Even when they stared him in the face, mocked him and danced about his vision, if he could find a way around them, discover a silver lining or a more cheerful angle from which to view the world, he would much prefer that than to take the effort needed to dispel trouble once and for all ( Read more... ) -
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Leon had watched the rain with growing weariness. Days had ticked by, one after another, in a dull, unhappy drizzle, that made him want to do nothing more than sit in his hut (thankfully dry, for all its rustic charm), venturing out only when the necessity of a meal and cup of tea, or perhaps the possibility of a decent drink and conversation, ( Read more... ) -
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Mailbox for L. Tallis. -
Summer, 1933
The trouble with returning to one's childhood home is that one is never entirely sure what to do with oneself. No longer a resident, you are not a stranger, not quite a guest. The gulf between adulthood and childhood stretched wider, plunged deeper. And while Leon did not generally worry about such things, but he did feel a little odd as he waited ( Read more... )