. . . . . entries for 17.6.02 . . . . .
It is officially the last week of the school year! Great to be almost done. Tomorrow is our last gym day, and we are blissfully doing ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!! Ahaha. Well. In any case, more Redwing for ya--enjoy. It's the beginning of the actual plot, sort of.
And while I'm thinking about it--what happened to my comments? What happened to them!!? TELL ME! o.o()
The Redwing Blackbird
One
The first drop of rain fell, as it would, upon Margie’s hair. It wasn’t hard to see there.
“C’mon, we had better head back home,” I said as I trampled through the thistles in my heavy, leather boots.
Margie, who never wore thick boots like us (“They look so clumsy!”), needed Corvus’ help getting through the briars.
It’s always loads of fun watching them. They’re absolutely perfect for each other. Furthermore, I can always tease Corvus about it when Marguerite isn’t around.
We trudged through the moorland, rain falling more heavily all the time. A crackle of lightning shot down through a black cloud behind us, which just made me walk a tad bit faster.
Margie, on the other hand, is afraid of lightning. She was holding onto Corvus as if he would save her from a horrible death.
It’s so cute, watching those two together. They’re fairy tale material. They’ll probably get married and live happily ever after someday.
My skirt and blouse were starting to stick to my skin from all of the rain. I walked faster, until I was running. Corvus and Margie had no hope of keeping up. I left them behind as I ran back to Sedagé. I considered taking off my cloak and leaving it behind, but I knew that Mum had spent weeks sewing together all the bits of velvet. It was more of a dress cloak, really, but I wore it everywhere. Mum’s very proud of it.
I arrived at the village when the first rip of thunder tore across the sky. Cold and soaking, I rushed into my cottage, where Mum was wringing her hands, looking out the window.
It’s really hard to believe she’s a royal guard sometimes. She acts so. . . So much like a mother.
When she saw me, a look of relief washed over her. “Thank goodness you’re home! Is your brother coming in?”
“. . . I left Corvus and Margie behind in the moor.”
Mum sighed. “But they’re coming in?”
“They’re coming. Don’t worry, Mum, they’ll be here in two flaps of a magpie’s wing.”
I strolled into my room and loosened my cloak. It was weighed down with the rainwater, same as by clothes and my hair. The velvet dropped to the wooden floor about my feet. I stepped out of the dark heap daintily, unbuckled my boots and laid them carefully by the door.
From there, I proceeded to change into my favorite dress; a black, lacy frock with a red shawl. It made me look just like a redwing blackbird.
Just for fun, I slipped on my black dress gloves and boots. I knew that Mum disapproved of dress up games, but I couldn’t help it. I looked down at myself, the lacy frock and the knit shawl, the graceful, black gloves and the tall, black leather boots.
I looked pretty. I looked dark, and poisonous, and lithe.
Like a redwing blackbird.
I heard the door open and shut outside my room, and I quickly pulled off the gloves and boots and shoved them back in their drawer. Marguerite and Corvus were laughing when I came out, sitting next to each other in the big, fluffy armchair by the fire. They were both soaked through and red as possible, Margie still holding onto Corvus tightly. Her head was on his shoulder as they laughed together.
I wished I had someone to love like Margie did. . .
I wished I had a caring father like Margie did. . .
I found myself almost wishing I WAS Margie, after watching them for a bit.
Corvus finally had something to brag about. . . HE had someone he loved, and he had left me behind. . .
I sniggered behind them.
“Awww, aren’t you two cute,” I said mockingly.
Marguerite blushed. Corvus probably really wanted to blush, but Blackbirds typically just CAN’T blush, no matter how embarrassed they are. Instead he just looked horribly sheepish, something he’s very talented at.
I smiled. “Margie, you ought to change out of that wet dress. You too, Corvy. Up, now, go to your room. Come on, Margie, you can borrow one of my outfits.”
They stood up reluctantly. Corvus trudged off to his room, while Marguerite followed me into mine. I showed her my closet, full of dresses, blouses, gowns, skirts and frocks. She chose a cream colored blouse and a green wrap-around skirt. I looked horrible in the outfit; it made Margie look quite pretty.
I wished I could look like a normal country girl like Margie could. . .
We walked back out into the hall, and into the parlor with the big fluffy chair and the warm fireplace.
My brother was sitting in the armchair, watching the fire.
She sat down next to him and set her head on his shoulder, and they looked at the bright plumes of fire together. The flame crackled and shot a sparkling ember up, into the darkness.
I walked back to my room alone, and wished I had a mirror to look into. My reflection might keep me company.
Somewhere in the storm, a redwing blackbird crowed to the darkness.
come home?
.:people:.
{ting}
she looks like the real thing
{mari}
out and about
[kelsey]
THIS IS AMERICA
{yianni}
stop being depressed
{alisa}
other
[shannon]
close and far
{frank}
islands where no islands should go
[cassie]
eating knowledge
{colin}
my dm
[emily]
shoulder to the wheel
[brian]
nostalgic for fantasy
[nicole]
industry insider
{elle}
angry enviro
[matt]
never heard of miyazaki
[pirate dan]
are you reading this?
[olga]
distracted
[messiah dan]
messiah/believer
{max}
approach focus
[natalie]
wait a minute
[susan]
solitude
{greg}
manbeargreg
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.:skin:.
turtles! turtles! by araglas
(heavily modified by yours truly)