So, I have two massive exams in the next 6 weeks, and no time to do…anything. Such is life. Assuming I pass Corporate Finance, life will get much easier in October – two small classes, then a year of working on, then defending, my dissertation. Then…real world! Again! It’s been so long since I’ve lived 9-5, I look forward to it, but am afraid. So…yea.
The kid is good – he’s working through a cold right now (the whole house is), so he’s currently watching the Cbeebies Prom for the 3rd time this morning. Keeps his spirits up. He loves to draw with my fountain pens in old notebooks while I work on studies. I (barely) wince when I think of the fountain pens he’s handed back to me sans cap (two are currently still MIA).
My continual compulsion with all things old and lovely continues with an eBay pickup up some gorgeous in-box quill pen nibs (box marked 1943 from Paris – they were being churned out, war be damned!) and a lovely charity shop pick up of an old Chanel clutch. Needs serious leather conditioning, but lovely.
So all of July I set a challenge for myself (it was actually for 90 days, but I’ll explain that in a bit) to write a 500 character, not word, character story inspired on the spot by whatever picture I had taken in London. The rules I set for myself were simple: No preset stories, the pics had to be taken in or about London, and post a new one every day. I set the 500 character challenge because that forces brevity (and hopefully wit!), and the app I was using, Dayre, has a 500 character limit. Unfortunately, Dayre doesn’t allow you to update from your desktop, only mobile, so when my mobile was giving me issues early in August, I was b0rked. Rather than fuss about trying to play catch up, I’m just jumping back in on the app, but reposting the old ones here, as…well, I’m fucking busy, and don’t really have the time to do much else. Like I said, it’ll be better in October (fingers crossed). So, here’s the first story, entitled ‘Women’s Work’.
She scanned the room, knowing he’d be wearing his wedding ring. She glanced down at the card, then ripped it in pieces and placed it in the nearest discarded drink. No trail. Rules are rules.
Gliding through the throng, her eyes finally focused on their goal. He looked the same; that made her job easier, at least. Her posture changed as she emerged, a lucid mask settling on her face.
“Ah, there she is!” he flashed a smile, the guests parting. “Have you all met my w-wife?”