(Untitled)

[ever_noteful]

It's a good night for a jigsaw puzzle.

Meg has one spread out across the top of a table (one with good light), a photograph of a castle by a lake, currently still in 550 separate pieces.

Well, 549 of them are on the table.

One is underneath it.

But Meg hasn't spotted that yet.

Comments

[yesthatbella]

[I have been dying for these two to meet, if slowtime is okay?]

Bella's at a nearby table working on what will eventually become her final English paper of her entire high school career. Right now, though, it's a mess of index cards, Post-It notes, and scribbles in the margins of a worn copy of Wuthering Heights.

She's thinking hard, and staring equally hard at the spot on the floor that eventually registers as being occupied by a puzzle piece.

"Excuse me -- you dropped a piece."

[ever_noteful]

[OOC: We'll give it a try.]

"What?" she asks, look up, and then down.

"Oh.

"Thank you."

Meg stoops to retrieve the fallen piece.

[yesthatbella]

"No problem. I hate it when I get nearly done and realize I've got four spaces left but only three pieces."

Which is kind of metaphorically where she's at with this essay, given the way she keeps rearranging her index cards and exchanging the post-it notes affixed to them.

[ever_noteful]

"Especially here, when for all you know, it could have gotten stuck to someone's shoe and tracked back to five hundred years in your future before you notice or something like that.

"Though I suppose here you could always just go ask Bar for the missing piece, too.

"I'm Meg Ford."