"...Sir, Sir - Officer! I mean, this would probably sound very strange, but..."
The balding man with the short mustache stammers at him, waving a paintbrush. Ludwig stares at him. He cannot help it, really.
"I am a painter by trade - Well, most of my time is spent doing other things, now, but that's what I started out doing, anyway, and - Oh, damn, I sound like a lunatic, don't I?"
Ludwig opens his mouth, and then closes it. This is a rather different kind of creepy, even he has to admit.
"So, ah, what I was trying to say was - May I draw you? ...And paint you?"
Ludwig nods, automatically - He can't help himself at all.
" - Oh, it's so good to have somebody to talk to in German - For some strange reason, my English is so much better then my French, you know? My Polish makes my wife burst out laughing, though - Even my Yiddish is better, she says..."
Wife? Ludwig murmurs, as the man tells him to sit on the nearby fountain's rim.
"Oh, yes, yes - This is my wife and son! Jacob is getting so bigThe photo of a happy family - The
( ... )
......I actively love this. This moment, of Germany dreaming how things could have been. How I wondered and wondered where it would go, and I got to the last line, and said "what is going on?" and realized. And then reread the whole thing.
Re: Paris
anonymous
December 31 2009, 03:51:43 UTC
I freaking loved the little Tyger bit in there. It was so so sosososoooooooo perfect, what with the rally and the poem being about the French Revolution, and it just calls up all these emotions and-- I'm flubbing around here in awe, anon. Srsly.
Even a Miracle (1b/?)
anonymous
December 3 2009, 13:24:39 UTC
America took an envelope out of the bag, looking at it. "And it just... it got me thinking you know. I remember when Alaska and Hawaii were writing letters to Santa." His smile was wistful. "Of course, I didn't have the heart to tell them he wasn't real
( ... )
Even a Miracle (2b/?)
anonymous
December 6 2009, 15:44:11 UTC
England blinked a few times, swallowed, then looked at the huge sack which was stuffed to the brim with letters. "All of them? Alfred, there are hundreds of letters here
( ... )
Crossovers and Fusions are OK, too.
I like well written/drawn, etc, fills of all and any kind, by the way.
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The balding man with the short mustache stammers at him, waving a paintbrush. Ludwig stares at him. He cannot help it, really.
"I am a painter by trade - Well, most of my time is spent doing other things, now, but that's what I started out doing, anyway, and - Oh, damn, I sound like a lunatic, don't I?"
Ludwig opens his mouth, and then closes it. This is a rather different kind of creepy, even he has to admit.
"So, ah, what I was trying to say was - May I draw you? ...And paint you?"
Ludwig nods, automatically - He can't help himself at all.
" - Oh, it's so good to have somebody to talk to in German - For some strange reason, my English is so much better then my French, you know? My Polish makes my wife burst out laughing, though - Even my Yiddish is better, she says..."
Wife? Ludwig murmurs, as the man tells him to sit on the nearby fountain's rim.
"Oh, yes, yes - This is my wife and son! Jacob is getting so bigThe photo of a happy family - The ( ... )
Reply
I wonder if anybody could guess what it was crossed over with...
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And said, "....this."
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freaking
loved
the little Tyger bit in there. It was so so sosososoooooooo perfect, what with the rally and the poem being about the French Revolution, and it just calls up all these emotions and--
I'm flubbing around here in awe, anon. Srsly.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
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Reply
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