distractions
Nov. 1st, 2003 01:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rhyllwell, i did finally start writing. but then kyle called and asked it i wanted to go down to the beach with him. so of course i'll have to go. cos it's bonding. maybe i can finish the rest of today's writing tonight. for now, Once upon a time there was a world that wasn't quite here or there or anywhere at all, and a time that was yesterday, today and tomorrow all rolled into one. We all know this place, we knew it before we properly knew the world that we live in. This is where our stories come from, or maybe it's where we put our stories when we're not using them. Here things don't just go on and on, though, like in our lives. Here everything has an ending, happy or otherwise. And everyone's a character, though some are allowed a little more depth than others...
When Isobel was a very small girl she was continually getting into trouble. She was like a little cloud of chaos - she seemed to project an aura of disorder even when she was sitting perfectly still in the corner, watching the world go by around her. Isobel had messy blonde hair that refused to pony-tail or piggy-tail or even just hold the pretty clips that her friends wore. Her face was always smudged and she kept toffee and sealing wax and string in the pockets of her overalls. Every few weeks her mother or father (whichever was feeling most patient) would insist on reading her The Ugly Duckling for her bedtime story. In the end they stopped, because the next morning Isobel would be sure to fill her pockets with snails and wander down to the local park to feed the ducks.
Isobel had all sorts of adventures when she was a child, the world being what it was. Sometimes, when she ate too much icecream before bedtime, she dreamt about other worlds where children got to be in charge of families, or where she had teaparties with rabbits in tophats, or where (and these were her favourites) nothing had a proper ending, it all just seemed to blur. Other times her and her friends, or sometimes just Isobel and her dog, Dog, would daringly unravel the plots laid by some of the more unsavoury characters of the neighbourhood. Once, when Isobel had been very young, she had been lost for a whole week. Just when everyone was getting frantic Isobel reappeared and would say nothing about where she'd been except that she'd been to see the Queen, and she was never going to wash her hands ever again. Since the Queen's representatives, when they were finally contacted for the local newspaper's story, said they're never heard of Isobel, everyone put it down to an overactive imagination and it was eventually forgotten.
Even Isobel forgot about it, for a long time. She grew from being a messy child to being a messy teenager with very little unusual fuss in the process. She got various cuts and scrapes, she had her tonsils out, she got chickenpox. She got some bad grades and some good grades, and did very well in English and Maths, when she paid attention. She had best friends who became worst enemies and back again, over and over. She had a crush on a boy at school and (somewhat more secretly) on one of the girls in her sports class. She wrote a diary sporadically. She liked lasagna and pistachio icecream. In short, Isobel was more or less normal.
Until her thirteenth birthday, at least...
When Isobel was a very small girl she was continually getting into trouble. She was like a little cloud of chaos - she seemed to project an aura of disorder even when she was sitting perfectly still in the corner, watching the world go by around her. Isobel had messy blonde hair that refused to pony-tail or piggy-tail or even just hold the pretty clips that her friends wore. Her face was always smudged and she kept toffee and sealing wax and string in the pockets of her overalls. Every few weeks her mother or father (whichever was feeling most patient) would insist on reading her The Ugly Duckling for her bedtime story. In the end they stopped, because the next morning Isobel would be sure to fill her pockets with snails and wander down to the local park to feed the ducks.
Isobel had all sorts of adventures when she was a child, the world being what it was. Sometimes, when she ate too much icecream before bedtime, she dreamt about other worlds where children got to be in charge of families, or where she had teaparties with rabbits in tophats, or where (and these were her favourites) nothing had a proper ending, it all just seemed to blur. Other times her and her friends, or sometimes just Isobel and her dog, Dog, would daringly unravel the plots laid by some of the more unsavoury characters of the neighbourhood. Once, when Isobel had been very young, she had been lost for a whole week. Just when everyone was getting frantic Isobel reappeared and would say nothing about where she'd been except that she'd been to see the Queen, and she was never going to wash her hands ever again. Since the Queen's representatives, when they were finally contacted for the local newspaper's story, said they're never heard of Isobel, everyone put it down to an overactive imagination and it was eventually forgotten.
Even Isobel forgot about it, for a long time. She grew from being a messy child to being a messy teenager with very little unusual fuss in the process. She got various cuts and scrapes, she had her tonsils out, she got chickenpox. She got some bad grades and some good grades, and did very well in English and Maths, when she paid attention. She had best friends who became worst enemies and back again, over and over. She had a crush on a boy at school and (somewhat more secretly) on one of the girls in her sports class. She wrote a diary sporadically. She liked lasagna and pistachio icecream. In short, Isobel was more or less normal.
Until her thirteenth birthday, at least...
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
on 2003-10-31 11:44 pm (UTC)i never see you anymore :( this is bad. we must rectify this situation.
you've been added ;)