Brotherly Bonding - The British Way
WHO: Arthur and Dewi
WHEN: 14 October (Wednesday Afternoon)
WHERE: The Myrtles House
WHAT: Disrupting Teatime - The Welsh Way
RATING: Rated S for...
Sheep Shagging
(This is what you get for being a lazy git and making me create the post.)
( Long-Suffering Cut - The English Way )
WHEN: 14 October (Wednesday Afternoon)
WHERE: The Myrtles House
WHAT: Disrupting Teatime - The Welsh Way
RATING: Rated S for...
Sheep Shagging
(This is what you get for being a lazy git and making me create the post.)
( Long-Suffering Cut - The English Way )
Comments 12
Because Dewi Ainsworth wasn’t the kind of person to just “pop in.” Perhaps “I got lost” would be acceptable.
Step Two: Come up with a Better Excuse
Because Dewi Ainsworth lived on this street. He knew this street better than any street in Liberty. Better than any street in America. And he knew that house better than he knew his own.
Step Three: Walk up The Pathway toward the Myrtle’s House
Enter at your own risk, and of course, be cautious of the rose bushes. They like to snatch at things.
Step Four: Steep over your Thoughts
This would also be an excellent time to ponder your second-thoughts. It is also acceptable to turn back and head home.
Step Five: KnockIf you so decide not to go home, the appropriate thing would be to knock. Do be careful, as the house is sensitive. If you knock too hard, you will most-likely be swept up by the welcome mat ( ... )
Reply
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.
Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways::
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep--
Arthur paused, halting Keats’ rustic opening scene of the classic epic Endymion. He shifted the book to one hand - careful not to jostle the cup and saucer balancing on his thigh - and laid it next to him on the settee. He plucked the teacup from his leg, taking one quick sip, before bending forward to gently set it on the coffee table - sighing a little mournfully at leaving it behind, even for a moment ( ... )
Reply
There was a moment, during the part when his heart stopped, when his nerves settled at the hope of an empty (save for the ghosts) house. He tapped his foot to the song Voice Dance - a piece his upper-choir was currently working on - and hummed the tenor part at a volume that could be easily be masked by the creaking of the floorboards beneath his quite dashing navy blue Converse. It was an unspoken rule of his that he would wait thirty - count them: thirty - seconds before turning briskly on his heel and leaving, but... just for safe measure, he shortened it to twenty-five.
...fourteen... thirteen...
The house groaned again, seemingly swaying in the breeze, not unlike the autumn-bare trees dotting the front lawn. He remembered the roses being a duller red when he last visited. There were deep groves leading up to the largest bushel, and they reminded Dewi of a person being dragged into them.
...ten... nine...He took a step backward to assess the front door, tilting his head and observing like a piece ( ... )
Reply
Heaving a sigh, Arthur wondered if it was too late to pretend he couldn’t see the oddly frozen posture on his veranda. It was almost comical really - the way that Dewi was poised to run with such an expression on his face. Hm, much like what a Pompeian would have looked like when faced with an erupting Mount Vesuvius.
...Did he just compare himself to a volcano?
“You know,” He started, crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame. “If you intended to knock on my door and dash away, I advise you to do so before I open the door.”
Reply
Leave a comment