(no subject)
Rainbow Sherbet #3. Yellow
with Whipped Cream and Gummy Bunnies
Story : There Are No Small Parts
Rating : G
Word Count : 397
Gummy Prompt : 500themes #69. A child's truth.
I've still been struggling figuring out what to write. And my computer hasn't been mine lately, as it's been used to entertain my sick kid (she's finally back to school tomorrow). I think I'm going to use rainbow sherbet to do some quick character sketches for the theater story, since everyone already has a color associated with them. They'll probably be a little rough, but I need to start somewhere. My brain keeps trying to come up with BIG PROJECTS and I really don't need that right now. Anyway...
“Are you doodling again, Gilda?” There was something in the way the nanny said the word that made it almost painful to even hear.
Miss Gertrude was seated in the big, gold chair with the high, stiff back and claws for feet. A giggling and cooing baby Millicent was balanced on her knee, while Gilda lay on her belly on the rug with a stack of paper and a bit of graphite.
“It’s not a doodle.” Without so much as a glance, Gilda kept at her frantic scribbling. “It’s a dress. And a hat and a pair of boots.” She stopped, held the paper at arm’s length, and squinted at her work. “I think it would look best in yellow, don’t you?” She didn’t wait for an answer - she was sure that if the woman was looking at the picture at all, she was doing so down the length of her nose - instead she set to work adding a spray of feathers to the hat. “Bright, golden yellow, like a sunflower.”
“Shouldn’t you be doing your schoolwork?”
Gilda laughed. “This is schoolwork. I have an art class and a sewing class.”
The nanny sniffed, and Gilda could just picture the scowl on her wrinkled brow, and so she still didn’t look up. Grown-ups got worked up about funny things sometimes, and the new nanny especially so. Gilda figured it wasn’t worth taking the time to figure out why. She supposed when she grew up, she’d get funny about things too, whether she understood it now or not. “This is what your parents send you to that expensive school for? Art?”
“Not just art,” said Gilda. She’d decided that what the outfit truly needed was an elaborate, sequined purse, and so she was adding that now. “I also have math, and science, and writing, and sewing.”
“Sewing?” It sounded as vile as doodling. “Elves’ work. What’s a girl of your class doing sewing?”
“I’m going to be a dress-maker.”
“Of course,” said Miss Gertrude, in that sugary tone grown-ups tended to use with each other when they didn’t really mean what they were saying, “and I’m going to be the Queen.”
Gilda decided to treat that as if the woman had meant it. “Then I’ll make you a lovely golden dress you can wear on your throne,” she said, brandishing her finished work for the nanny to see.
with Whipped Cream and Gummy Bunnies
Story : There Are No Small Parts
Rating : G
Word Count : 397
Gummy Prompt : 500themes #69. A child's truth.
I've still been struggling figuring out what to write. And my computer hasn't been mine lately, as it's been used to entertain my sick kid (she's finally back to school tomorrow). I think I'm going to use rainbow sherbet to do some quick character sketches for the theater story, since everyone already has a color associated with them. They'll probably be a little rough, but I need to start somewhere. My brain keeps trying to come up with BIG PROJECTS and I really don't need that right now. Anyway...
“Are you doodling again, Gilda?” There was something in the way the nanny said the word that made it almost painful to even hear.
Miss Gertrude was seated in the big, gold chair with the high, stiff back and claws for feet. A giggling and cooing baby Millicent was balanced on her knee, while Gilda lay on her belly on the rug with a stack of paper and a bit of graphite.
“It’s not a doodle.” Without so much as a glance, Gilda kept at her frantic scribbling. “It’s a dress. And a hat and a pair of boots.” She stopped, held the paper at arm’s length, and squinted at her work. “I think it would look best in yellow, don’t you?” She didn’t wait for an answer - she was sure that if the woman was looking at the picture at all, she was doing so down the length of her nose - instead she set to work adding a spray of feathers to the hat. “Bright, golden yellow, like a sunflower.”
“Shouldn’t you be doing your schoolwork?”
Gilda laughed. “This is schoolwork. I have an art class and a sewing class.”
The nanny sniffed, and Gilda could just picture the scowl on her wrinkled brow, and so she still didn’t look up. Grown-ups got worked up about funny things sometimes, and the new nanny especially so. Gilda figured it wasn’t worth taking the time to figure out why. She supposed when she grew up, she’d get funny about things too, whether she understood it now or not. “This is what your parents send you to that expensive school for? Art?”
“Not just art,” said Gilda. She’d decided that what the outfit truly needed was an elaborate, sequined purse, and so she was adding that now. “I also have math, and science, and writing, and sewing.”
“Sewing?” It sounded as vile as doodling. “Elves’ work. What’s a girl of your class doing sewing?”
“I’m going to be a dress-maker.”
“Of course,” said Miss Gertrude, in that sugary tone grown-ups tended to use with each other when they didn’t really mean what they were saying, “and I’m going to be the Queen.”
Gilda decided to treat that as if the woman had meant it. “Then I’ll make you a lovely golden dress you can wear on your throne,” she said, brandishing her finished work for the nanny to see.