"Both that morning equally lay", TWW, Sam/Elsie, Will
Title: Both that morning equally lay
Author: scrollgirl
Fandom: The West Wing
Pairing: Sam/Elsie (Sam/Will UST)
Warnings: PG-13
Words: ~2,400
Author's Note: Written for pocky_slash for the Threesome round of tww_minis ( master list). Kait asked for Sam, Will, and Elsie in a love triangle, or what she calls a "functional" threesome, where it's more three people living together symbiotically than sexually. She wanted holidays, an airport, and books, no sex between Will and Elsie, and not too much angst.
Story structure stolen from celbalrai's Twenty Things That Might Have Been and raedbard's Thirteen Ways of Drawing A Triangle. Set in the same universe as She Spake In Her Heart. Kait, this story probably isn't what you were looking for but I hope you'll enjoy it anyway!
Both that morning equally lay
by Scroll
1.
Will doesn't understand what he's seeing until Elsie's quiet moans filter past the roaring in his ears. His baby sister's eyes are squeezed tight, her mouth open and wet, and Sam has his face pressed between --
He makes it all the way to his car before he throws up.
2.
Softly, softly she kisses him in the dim light of a pearly dawn. The bedroom window is open to the humid heat of a Washington summer. His bed is too warm so they push back the sheets, releasing the scent of sex that's been trapped. She smoothes her palms down the planes of his back. In turn, he traces the veins beneath her skin with the pads of his fingers, as reverent as though the faint blue lines were holy scripture.
3.
Will runs into Sam on his way to a meeting on the Hill. "Hey, what happened to you last Saturday? I thought you were coming over to watch the game," says Sam, catching his elbow when he would've hurried by.
If it were Elsie asking, Will wouldn't be able to fool her. But Sam hasn't learned all of Will's poker faces yet (and now he never will) so when Will tells him, "Sorry, I should've called, I started working on the president's remarks for the AFL-CIO and completely lost track of time," Sam believes him without question.
"Was it a good game?" asks Will, casually. It's a dare.
Sam doesn't quite meet his eyes. "Actually, I called it an early night and hit the sack."
"Ah," says Will. "Just as well then."
4.
Elsie knows Will knows. She can read it in the way he walks. "You wanted your book back?" she says, meeting him in the corridor outside the mess. The book is actually her mom's, a biography on Eisenhower that her mom loaned to Will years before, while he was at Cambridge. He's never returned it.
"I don't need it," he says as they march down the corridor, stiff as soldiers. These days he keeps a regimented distance between them when before they'd always jostle each other, friendly elbows and comfortable shoulders.
"You said you wanted it," she reminds him, angered by his anger.
"I said I don't need it."
She snatches the book back before he can change his mind. "Your loss," she says, and turns away.
5.
"Why don't you want to tell him?" asks Sam one night after they've made love. His hair is ink black against her white sheets, and Elsie smiles at his desire for forthrightness.
"He knows, Sam. He's just pissed at me because I didn't give him fair warning." She knows Will is hurting, but there's a part of her that's hurting too. With every day that passes, the bone-deep feeling that Sam is The One grows stronger, and she hates that she can't share this with her big brother.
Sam is frowning because he knows Will, and he knows Will isn't the kind of man to expect a woman to follow outdated rules of courtship. Still, the awkward tension between Will and him is a recent thing, and he never got a chance to talk to Will about dating Elsie before they'd already tumbled into bed together. Not that he needs permission, no matter how much he respects Will. "Why would you need to warn him? You're a grown woman," he says, finally.
Elsie is a grown woman, and she's never been afraid to go after what she wants. She gave Will plenty of chances. Hell, she gave him plenty of encouragement. She can't be responsible for his own inaction.
When it comes to politics, Will can believe the impossible. Elsie doesn't know why he couldn't apply that same faith to Sam.
6.
There's a cold front settling deep in Will's veins, and it's been there for weeks. Dimly he wonders at the whitish haze that sometimes blurs the edges of his vision. Considering the hours he spends staring at his computer screen and combing through fine print, he should probably worry about eyestrain.
Sometimes, when Sam tries to talk to him, puts his warm, tanned hand on Will's arm to get his attention, he can feel himself thawing, uncurling. But only a little. Only enough for him to feel it.
Even Sam can't work miracles overnight.
(Once upon a time, Will believed he could.)
7.
CJ decides to host Thanksgiving dinner for the senior staff. Technically Sam isn't senior staff anymore, but he's barraged with PINs on his BlackBerry until he promises to come, and yes, he's bringing a date, it's not a big deal, you'll like her, Will's sister, she writes for the First Lady, don't listen to Toby, he's biased, don't worry, we can always order Chinese.
"I like her," CJ pronounces loudly, a wee bit tipsy from the red wine she's consumed. Elsie's out of earshot in the kitchen with Toby, the two of them striving valiantly to save the pumpkin pies from an unfortunate demise. "She's a keeper."
Sam grins and says, "Yeah, I think so too," which causes Josh's eyebrows to shoot up almost to his hairline, which is quite a feat these days.
When Elsie comes back into the dining room with Toby, bearing two only slightly blackened pies, she's greeted with cheers and a big kiss on the cheek from her boyfriend.
She doesn't feel guilty that Will isn't here. She knows Will is feasting in style with the vice president and his family.
8.
It's three weeks before Christmas and Will's been kicked out of his office by the man who gave it to him in the first place. He pours himself a hefty drink, and after one gulp he kicks off his shoes. After two gulps, he strips off his tie and belt. After three, he turns on the TV for company. After four, he dials Sam's number but hangs up after only one ring. After five gulps, he dials long distance to Brussels but nobody is home and he doesn't leave a message. After six, he dials Elsie's number and when she answers, he says, "I'm having a really fucking shitty day," and hangs up. After seven gulps, he tries to dial Toby's number but thank God he's too drunk to do it properly, and the stranger on the other line tells him to get a life before slamming down the phone.
After eight gulps he's done, and goes to bed.
9.
Elsie is persistent. Will has known her since she was a toddler, so it shouldn't come as a surprise when she shows up at his door on Sunday, bearing Rice Krispies treats and a bottle of good Scotch. There's a stubborn glint in her eye that doesn't bode well for his liver.
This is how she begins: "I'm sorry I hurt you."
This is how he replies: "I'm sorry I've been such a jerk."
This is how they end: "I really love him, it's kind of scary how much I love him, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
Will shows up to work the next day hung over and sleep-deprived, but there's a lightness in his step.
10.
Sam begins with the obvious considerations. "Look, I know I've got a reputation --"
"Josh told me about you hitting on Leo's wife, if that's what you mean by 'reputation'," says Will, eyebrows raised and arms crossed over his chest.
"Okay, so it's not a great reputation, I grant you --"
"You also hit on Leo's daughter."
"Hey, she hit on me! We had one date!"
"So, was that before or after the hooker?"
11.
For Sam's birthday, CJ and Elsie throw a huge bash. They rent out an entire restaurant and invite nearly everybody in Washington that Sam considers a friend (which is a staggering number of people, it turns out) and they party from eight in the evening to four in the morning. It's a huge success, and relatively free of bloodshed in spite of the open bar. Andy keeps Toby on a tight leash and Will, on orders from Donna, tags after Josh as the man bounces from table to table, almost manic in his good cheer.
"Will, look! Th' beer's green!" Josh shoves his beer into Will's face, his eyes wide with befuddlement.
"It's St. Patrick's Day, Josh. They dyed it green," Will explains absently, patting him on the arm. Across the floor, Sam and Elsie are slow-dancing, foreheads touching. They look... happy. In love. The painfully familiar knot of yearning, anger, and bitter disappointment is still there, lodged tight in his chest even after all these months.
He turns away to find Josh staring at him, not quite so drunk after all. "It won't be like this forever, you know," he says, but Will pretends not to hear him over the music.
It's not until Will wakes up the next morning that he realises Josh wasn't referring to Sam and Elsie.
12.
In the spring, Elsie invites her parents to California. Sam's mother is a gracious hostess and throws a simple but elegant party to welcome them. Sam's grandmother and aunts and cousins are there, and even his paternal grandparents. His father and step-mother send their regrets, much to Elsie's private relief.
"Having fun, Mom?" she laughs when her mother collapses into the chair beside her with one of Sam's nieces in her arms, the little girl all danced out.
"Oh, definitely! But not as much fun as your father!" Elsie follows her gaze to find her dad doing a lively salsa with Aunt Vera out on the patio, near the pool. They're really quite good. "Now where has that young man of yours got himself to, anyway?" her mother asks.
Elsie goes off in search of him, and finds him hiding behind the pool house with Will. "You came?" She stares at her big brother like he's a stranger. "You said you were busy."
Will shrugs, a little sheepish. "I changed my mind." He holds up the plate of crab cakes that he and Sam have snatched out from under Abuela Luisa's eagle eye. "Want some?" Elsie doesn't answer for a minute, and the men wait patiently as she studies them from her vantage point of standing over them.
Sam's blue eyes hold only love for her, adoration and happiness. Whatever demons Sam may have (for such an honest, outspoken man, he's surprisingly private about his regrets), they are quiet for the moment. He keeps them quiet by never giving them opportunities to get loose, though Elsie suspects there've been close calls over the years. She knows there's a part of him secretly grateful every time he's not forced to choose.
Years from now, decades from now, when he's writing his memoirs, perhaps he'll poke at his demons to see if they have any fire left in them. But that's still to come.
Will's brown eyes are veiled, and for the first time in her life, Elsie can't read him. He's so much harder than he was only a year ago, and she knows he isn't happy. But he won't be deterred from the job he's doing. He confessed to her, that drunken Sunday, "I need to know if I can do it. Get a man elected president."
In truth, she wants to know, too.
Then, her big brother smiles with real warmth, and it's not like she has ever doubted how much he loves her, not even during the worst months last year. She plops down onto the grass beside him. "Hand over those crab cakes, Willy. Sam, tell your mom she needs to send me the recipe, or she's going to have to FedEx me crab cakes every week."
The three of them spend the rest of the night behind the pool house, talking comfortably and idly about everything and nothing at all.
13.
As best man, Josh says it's his responsibility to drive them to the airport. But Will takes him aside and asks to do it, so in the morning Will is the one loading suitcases into the trunk of his car. He's not surprised when Sam and Elsie fall asleep in the backseat, utterly exhausted from all the planning and anticipation and, finally, the day itself. He can only hope there aren't any photographers lurking around Dulles, angling for one last snapshot for the gossip columns. After all, one of Washington's most eligible bachelors is now officially off the market.
"You've got your passports?" he asks them as they line up to check their luggage. "Sam, did you remember your windbreaker? I put it next to your sneakers, but then you packed the sneakers and I couldn't figure out if you packed the windbreaker too, and it wasn't in your big suitcase --"
"Willy!" Elsie grabbed him by the shoulders and gave him a little shake. "Would you please stop freaking out?"
"Don't call me that!" When she simply glares at him, he realises his voice is a little loud. Will takes a deep breath, then another, until the quavering in his belly subsides. "Sorry. I'm done freaking out, I promise."
"I'll take good care of her," Sam tells Will, with the same seriousness and strength he displayed yesterday in front of God and everyone.
"I know you will," he replies, hugging his little sister close. "You guys have a safe trip, okay?" He hugs Sam next, and remembers the embrace after his toast, and what Sam said then. ("I'm so glad you're my brother, Will.")
Just before Sam and Elsie are about to go through security, he calls them back. "Wait, there's something I never told you guys." He pauses until they're both looking at him.
"Tell us what?" Elsie asks, frowning a little.
"That I'm happy for you," says Will, simply. "I'm happy for you both."
Elsie looks about ready to cry, and she clings to him for a minute before Will finally pushes her back to Sam. "Better get going, you don't want to miss your honeymoon," he reminds them even as the security guard waves them forward.
"I love you," Elsie whispers to him, then turns to go. Over her head, Sam tells him the same with a look, and Will smiles back. He waves at them once they're through security, then doesn't waste time heading back to his car. After all, it's a work day for him.
14.
When he writes his memoirs, he'll write about how much he loved them both, and the good they did together, and about the road taken and the road not taken, and how that has made all the difference.
* * *
The Road Not Taken
by Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
* * *
Feedback is love!
Author: scrollgirl
Fandom: The West Wing
Pairing: Sam/Elsie (Sam/Will UST)
Warnings: PG-13
Words: ~2,400
Author's Note: Written for pocky_slash for the Threesome round of tww_minis ( master list). Kait asked for Sam, Will, and Elsie in a love triangle, or what she calls a "functional" threesome, where it's more three people living together symbiotically than sexually. She wanted holidays, an airport, and books, no sex between Will and Elsie, and not too much angst.
Story structure stolen from celbalrai's Twenty Things That Might Have Been and raedbard's Thirteen Ways of Drawing A Triangle. Set in the same universe as She Spake In Her Heart. Kait, this story probably isn't what you were looking for but I hope you'll enjoy it anyway!
Both that morning equally lay
by Scroll
1.
Will doesn't understand what he's seeing until Elsie's quiet moans filter past the roaring in his ears. His baby sister's eyes are squeezed tight, her mouth open and wet, and Sam has his face pressed between --
He makes it all the way to his car before he throws up.
2.
Softly, softly she kisses him in the dim light of a pearly dawn. The bedroom window is open to the humid heat of a Washington summer. His bed is too warm so they push back the sheets, releasing the scent of sex that's been trapped. She smoothes her palms down the planes of his back. In turn, he traces the veins beneath her skin with the pads of his fingers, as reverent as though the faint blue lines were holy scripture.
3.
Will runs into Sam on his way to a meeting on the Hill. "Hey, what happened to you last Saturday? I thought you were coming over to watch the game," says Sam, catching his elbow when he would've hurried by.
If it were Elsie asking, Will wouldn't be able to fool her. But Sam hasn't learned all of Will's poker faces yet (and now he never will) so when Will tells him, "Sorry, I should've called, I started working on the president's remarks for the AFL-CIO and completely lost track of time," Sam believes him without question.
"Was it a good game?" asks Will, casually. It's a dare.
Sam doesn't quite meet his eyes. "Actually, I called it an early night and hit the sack."
"Ah," says Will. "Just as well then."
4.
Elsie knows Will knows. She can read it in the way he walks. "You wanted your book back?" she says, meeting him in the corridor outside the mess. The book is actually her mom's, a biography on Eisenhower that her mom loaned to Will years before, while he was at Cambridge. He's never returned it.
"I don't need it," he says as they march down the corridor, stiff as soldiers. These days he keeps a regimented distance between them when before they'd always jostle each other, friendly elbows and comfortable shoulders.
"You said you wanted it," she reminds him, angered by his anger.
"I said I don't need it."
She snatches the book back before he can change his mind. "Your loss," she says, and turns away.
5.
"Why don't you want to tell him?" asks Sam one night after they've made love. His hair is ink black against her white sheets, and Elsie smiles at his desire for forthrightness.
"He knows, Sam. He's just pissed at me because I didn't give him fair warning." She knows Will is hurting, but there's a part of her that's hurting too. With every day that passes, the bone-deep feeling that Sam is The One grows stronger, and she hates that she can't share this with her big brother.
Sam is frowning because he knows Will, and he knows Will isn't the kind of man to expect a woman to follow outdated rules of courtship. Still, the awkward tension between Will and him is a recent thing, and he never got a chance to talk to Will about dating Elsie before they'd already tumbled into bed together. Not that he needs permission, no matter how much he respects Will. "Why would you need to warn him? You're a grown woman," he says, finally.
Elsie is a grown woman, and she's never been afraid to go after what she wants. She gave Will plenty of chances. Hell, she gave him plenty of encouragement. She can't be responsible for his own inaction.
When it comes to politics, Will can believe the impossible. Elsie doesn't know why he couldn't apply that same faith to Sam.
6.
There's a cold front settling deep in Will's veins, and it's been there for weeks. Dimly he wonders at the whitish haze that sometimes blurs the edges of his vision. Considering the hours he spends staring at his computer screen and combing through fine print, he should probably worry about eyestrain.
Sometimes, when Sam tries to talk to him, puts his warm, tanned hand on Will's arm to get his attention, he can feel himself thawing, uncurling. But only a little. Only enough for him to feel it.
Even Sam can't work miracles overnight.
(Once upon a time, Will believed he could.)
7.
CJ decides to host Thanksgiving dinner for the senior staff. Technically Sam isn't senior staff anymore, but he's barraged with PINs on his BlackBerry until he promises to come, and yes, he's bringing a date, it's not a big deal, you'll like her, Will's sister, she writes for the First Lady, don't listen to Toby, he's biased, don't worry, we can always order Chinese.
"I like her," CJ pronounces loudly, a wee bit tipsy from the red wine she's consumed. Elsie's out of earshot in the kitchen with Toby, the two of them striving valiantly to save the pumpkin pies from an unfortunate demise. "She's a keeper."
Sam grins and says, "Yeah, I think so too," which causes Josh's eyebrows to shoot up almost to his hairline, which is quite a feat these days.
When Elsie comes back into the dining room with Toby, bearing two only slightly blackened pies, she's greeted with cheers and a big kiss on the cheek from her boyfriend.
She doesn't feel guilty that Will isn't here. She knows Will is feasting in style with the vice president and his family.
8.
It's three weeks before Christmas and Will's been kicked out of his office by the man who gave it to him in the first place. He pours himself a hefty drink, and after one gulp he kicks off his shoes. After two gulps, he strips off his tie and belt. After three, he turns on the TV for company. After four, he dials Sam's number but hangs up after only one ring. After five gulps, he dials long distance to Brussels but nobody is home and he doesn't leave a message. After six, he dials Elsie's number and when she answers, he says, "I'm having a really fucking shitty day," and hangs up. After seven gulps, he tries to dial Toby's number but thank God he's too drunk to do it properly, and the stranger on the other line tells him to get a life before slamming down the phone.
After eight gulps he's done, and goes to bed.
9.
Elsie is persistent. Will has known her since she was a toddler, so it shouldn't come as a surprise when she shows up at his door on Sunday, bearing Rice Krispies treats and a bottle of good Scotch. There's a stubborn glint in her eye that doesn't bode well for his liver.
This is how she begins: "I'm sorry I hurt you."
This is how he replies: "I'm sorry I've been such a jerk."
This is how they end: "I really love him, it's kind of scary how much I love him, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
Will shows up to work the next day hung over and sleep-deprived, but there's a lightness in his step.
10.
Sam begins with the obvious considerations. "Look, I know I've got a reputation --"
"Josh told me about you hitting on Leo's wife, if that's what you mean by 'reputation'," says Will, eyebrows raised and arms crossed over his chest.
"Okay, so it's not a great reputation, I grant you --"
"You also hit on Leo's daughter."
"Hey, she hit on me! We had one date!"
"So, was that before or after the hooker?"
11.
For Sam's birthday, CJ and Elsie throw a huge bash. They rent out an entire restaurant and invite nearly everybody in Washington that Sam considers a friend (which is a staggering number of people, it turns out) and they party from eight in the evening to four in the morning. It's a huge success, and relatively free of bloodshed in spite of the open bar. Andy keeps Toby on a tight leash and Will, on orders from Donna, tags after Josh as the man bounces from table to table, almost manic in his good cheer.
"Will, look! Th' beer's green!" Josh shoves his beer into Will's face, his eyes wide with befuddlement.
"It's St. Patrick's Day, Josh. They dyed it green," Will explains absently, patting him on the arm. Across the floor, Sam and Elsie are slow-dancing, foreheads touching. They look... happy. In love. The painfully familiar knot of yearning, anger, and bitter disappointment is still there, lodged tight in his chest even after all these months.
He turns away to find Josh staring at him, not quite so drunk after all. "It won't be like this forever, you know," he says, but Will pretends not to hear him over the music.
It's not until Will wakes up the next morning that he realises Josh wasn't referring to Sam and Elsie.
12.
In the spring, Elsie invites her parents to California. Sam's mother is a gracious hostess and throws a simple but elegant party to welcome them. Sam's grandmother and aunts and cousins are there, and even his paternal grandparents. His father and step-mother send their regrets, much to Elsie's private relief.
"Having fun, Mom?" she laughs when her mother collapses into the chair beside her with one of Sam's nieces in her arms, the little girl all danced out.
"Oh, definitely! But not as much fun as your father!" Elsie follows her gaze to find her dad doing a lively salsa with Aunt Vera out on the patio, near the pool. They're really quite good. "Now where has that young man of yours got himself to, anyway?" her mother asks.
Elsie goes off in search of him, and finds him hiding behind the pool house with Will. "You came?" She stares at her big brother like he's a stranger. "You said you were busy."
Will shrugs, a little sheepish. "I changed my mind." He holds up the plate of crab cakes that he and Sam have snatched out from under Abuela Luisa's eagle eye. "Want some?" Elsie doesn't answer for a minute, and the men wait patiently as she studies them from her vantage point of standing over them.
Sam's blue eyes hold only love for her, adoration and happiness. Whatever demons Sam may have (for such an honest, outspoken man, he's surprisingly private about his regrets), they are quiet for the moment. He keeps them quiet by never giving them opportunities to get loose, though Elsie suspects there've been close calls over the years. She knows there's a part of him secretly grateful every time he's not forced to choose.
Years from now, decades from now, when he's writing his memoirs, perhaps he'll poke at his demons to see if they have any fire left in them. But that's still to come.
Will's brown eyes are veiled, and for the first time in her life, Elsie can't read him. He's so much harder than he was only a year ago, and she knows he isn't happy. But he won't be deterred from the job he's doing. He confessed to her, that drunken Sunday, "I need to know if I can do it. Get a man elected president."
In truth, she wants to know, too.
Then, her big brother smiles with real warmth, and it's not like she has ever doubted how much he loves her, not even during the worst months last year. She plops down onto the grass beside him. "Hand over those crab cakes, Willy. Sam, tell your mom she needs to send me the recipe, or she's going to have to FedEx me crab cakes every week."
The three of them spend the rest of the night behind the pool house, talking comfortably and idly about everything and nothing at all.
13.
As best man, Josh says it's his responsibility to drive them to the airport. But Will takes him aside and asks to do it, so in the morning Will is the one loading suitcases into the trunk of his car. He's not surprised when Sam and Elsie fall asleep in the backseat, utterly exhausted from all the planning and anticipation and, finally, the day itself. He can only hope there aren't any photographers lurking around Dulles, angling for one last snapshot for the gossip columns. After all, one of Washington's most eligible bachelors is now officially off the market.
"You've got your passports?" he asks them as they line up to check their luggage. "Sam, did you remember your windbreaker? I put it next to your sneakers, but then you packed the sneakers and I couldn't figure out if you packed the windbreaker too, and it wasn't in your big suitcase --"
"Willy!" Elsie grabbed him by the shoulders and gave him a little shake. "Would you please stop freaking out?"
"Don't call me that!" When she simply glares at him, he realises his voice is a little loud. Will takes a deep breath, then another, until the quavering in his belly subsides. "Sorry. I'm done freaking out, I promise."
"I'll take good care of her," Sam tells Will, with the same seriousness and strength he displayed yesterday in front of God and everyone.
"I know you will," he replies, hugging his little sister close. "You guys have a safe trip, okay?" He hugs Sam next, and remembers the embrace after his toast, and what Sam said then. ("I'm so glad you're my brother, Will.")
Just before Sam and Elsie are about to go through security, he calls them back. "Wait, there's something I never told you guys." He pauses until they're both looking at him.
"Tell us what?" Elsie asks, frowning a little.
"That I'm happy for you," says Will, simply. "I'm happy for you both."
Elsie looks about ready to cry, and she clings to him for a minute before Will finally pushes her back to Sam. "Better get going, you don't want to miss your honeymoon," he reminds them even as the security guard waves them forward.
"I love you," Elsie whispers to him, then turns to go. Over her head, Sam tells him the same with a look, and Will smiles back. He waves at them once they're through security, then doesn't waste time heading back to his car. After all, it's a work day for him.
14.
When he writes his memoirs, he'll write about how much he loved them both, and the good they did together, and about the road taken and the road not taken, and how that has made all the difference.
* * *
The Road Not Taken
by Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
* * *
Feedback is love!