The Diary and the Lustful Librarian part 1
Title: The Diary and the Lustful Librarian (tentative)Part 1
Author: charisstoma
Content: I don’t know yet.
Timeline: After The Plotted Revenge
Word count: 382 + 309
Steve would have admired the Pumpkin Lights during the week the Pleasures Cafe crew were hanging around the djinn business. He really would have, well so would all the ‘djinn in the bin’ have done if they’d come out in time. Unfortunately by the time things were back to rights it was discovered that Steve was among the missing. His monitor looked fairly sterile though there was a file displayed prominent on the desktop titled NaNoWriMo.
The contents appeared to be a story written as a diary but a quick scan of it revealed there were details that obviously had been taken from events at the Lustful Liaisons business. One of the nosy priers into other djinn’s files, had done some investigation, which everyone understood as snooping, while Steve had been temporarily gone from the computer a time or two. A sharing of his knowledge had djinn eyes growing enormous in disbelief that anyone would spend a whole month writing such a mammoth quantity of words. .for fun. If this was what Steve had been doing, such activity had obviously been unhealthy. Just look at the condition he’d been in this last week. Many had thought it was the pressure of organizing the month of Halloween partying but perhaps it was not. Perhaps it was this sexless abomination of literary creativity. But where WAS the lost desk djinn?
It was Ceylen who caused the discovery that “the Abomination” was not sexless after all and also that the little djinn had advanced to sounding out the written word. Dick had hurriedly scooped up his two little djinnlings with a glare at a blinking Kain and taken them to the bookstore to find reading material more suited to early reader minds. It was hours before they returned to Dick's muttering of disjointed phrases like ‘..books. .fast little djinn.. so many books..’ but he was drowned out by the high happy caroling of the little shoppers‘, “BOOKS. BOOKS. BOOKS”. The staff shuttled Dick into his alcove with a drink and the little shoppers into another separate alcove way in the back of the shop with Ken delegated to help them look over their new purchases. Then they went back to reading aloud so that the blinking Kain could listen, to the contents of the story’s diary.
A romance is a difficult thing to negotiate, there are swirls and eddies that can impede or sweep lovers into too fast shallow endings. To watch our family try to steer their way inexpertly through the dangerous waters has been amusing and fraught with tense fear that love’s ship won’t end this time with the anchor solidly planted deep in the bay of its choosing. There are many times the ship is only meant for a short lay bye of mutual play but there are also many times where an anchor is set for permanent residence in a safe cove between high raised thighs to undulate in and out on the waves of passion. This story I tell is a record, a log if you will, of the voyages I have seen.
I suppose that I should start with the Master Navigator of our fleet. A tale that has more miss attempts at landings then one would wish and yet there is a happy docking at the end with a charter of colonization proven with a child. This is their tale…
This is the point where most readers skipped through the flowery words and where Ceylen had drawn attention to what he was reading because no one could say the little djinn was not quick to make the connections to what the author was alluding to. When he had loudly gotten to the part about high raised thighs and waves of passion undulating, everyone had stopped what they were doing with indrawn breath to gasp for more air when the little high voice had excitedly chirped, ”Daddies!” The rest was fast action that had Kain spending time in lighting fixture mode and his Dick going off on an emergency mission to focus young prodigy minds on literature that did not have ‘anything’ sinking its way into thigh shadowed coves.
Author: charisstoma
Content: I don’t know yet.
Timeline: After The Plotted Revenge
Word count: 382 + 309
Steve would have admired the Pumpkin Lights during the week the Pleasures Cafe crew were hanging around the djinn business. He really would have, well so would all the ‘djinn in the bin’ have done if they’d come out in time. Unfortunately by the time things were back to rights it was discovered that Steve was among the missing. His monitor looked fairly sterile though there was a file displayed prominent on the desktop titled NaNoWriMo.
The contents appeared to be a story written as a diary but a quick scan of it revealed there were details that obviously had been taken from events at the Lustful Liaisons business. One of the nosy priers into other djinn’s files, had done some investigation, which everyone understood as snooping, while Steve had been temporarily gone from the computer a time or two. A sharing of his knowledge had djinn eyes growing enormous in disbelief that anyone would spend a whole month writing such a mammoth quantity of words. .for fun. If this was what Steve had been doing, such activity had obviously been unhealthy. Just look at the condition he’d been in this last week. Many had thought it was the pressure of organizing the month of Halloween partying but perhaps it was not. Perhaps it was this sexless abomination of literary creativity. But where WAS the lost desk djinn?
It was Ceylen who caused the discovery that “the Abomination” was not sexless after all and also that the little djinn had advanced to sounding out the written word. Dick had hurriedly scooped up his two little djinnlings with a glare at a blinking Kain and taken them to the bookstore to find reading material more suited to early reader minds. It was hours before they returned to Dick's muttering of disjointed phrases like ‘..books. .fast little djinn.. so many books..’ but he was drowned out by the high happy caroling of the little shoppers‘, “BOOKS. BOOKS. BOOKS”. The staff shuttled Dick into his alcove with a drink and the little shoppers into another separate alcove way in the back of the shop with Ken delegated to help them look over their new purchases. Then they went back to reading aloud so that the blinking Kain could listen, to the contents of the story’s diary.
A romance is a difficult thing to negotiate, there are swirls and eddies that can impede or sweep lovers into too fast shallow endings. To watch our family try to steer their way inexpertly through the dangerous waters has been amusing and fraught with tense fear that love’s ship won’t end this time with the anchor solidly planted deep in the bay of its choosing. There are many times the ship is only meant for a short lay bye of mutual play but there are also many times where an anchor is set for permanent residence in a safe cove between high raised thighs to undulate in and out on the waves of passion. This story I tell is a record, a log if you will, of the voyages I have seen.
I suppose that I should start with the Master Navigator of our fleet. A tale that has more miss attempts at landings then one would wish and yet there is a happy docking at the end with a charter of colonization proven with a child. This is their tale…
This is the point where most readers skipped through the flowery words and where Ceylen had drawn attention to what he was reading because no one could say the little djinn was not quick to make the connections to what the author was alluding to. When he had loudly gotten to the part about high raised thighs and waves of passion undulating, everyone had stopped what they were doing with indrawn breath to gasp for more air when the little high voice had excitedly chirped, ”Daddies!” The rest was fast action that had Kain spending time in lighting fixture mode and his Dick going off on an emergency mission to focus young prodigy minds on literature that did not have ‘anything’ sinking its way into thigh shadowed coves.