Wednesday, 4 September 2013

Leaves of A Story.

Ugh, that title was supposed to sound majestic, and poetic, but... it flopped. :P Anyway, time for September Snippets. Please follow the link on the banner to learn more! Or click here.

Sophie stopped still. The mist was so pretty. It wrapped around her, enveloping her in a great gray cloud of scentless smoke. It caressed her silently without actually touching her, just wrapping around her like a ghostly curtain. She wandered through the park, enjoying the thrill of freedom.
As she walked, the walkway began to have more people on it, though not many, for it was still early. The rain had stopped by now, and as the sun rose in all its rosy glow, the mist slowly cleared, Sophie became of aware of a great form rising above the park. She caught her breath. Why, she must be in the Parc du Champs de Mars!
And then, piercing majestically through the clouds of mist, the Eiffel Tower rose, coming to a stately peak at 1,063 feet in the air. Sophie felt a tingle of excitement run through her. How majestic it was! ~ September Story. (That isn't its official name-- I just don't have one yet. :))

“What can I get you?” asked the tiny waitress. Of course, she spoke in French, but I don’t speak French, and am too busy to look up the words at the moment, so you will all just have to grit your teeth and bare with me. ~ September Story.

She was down the stairs in an instant, feet slapping on the hard, worn wood of the steps. They creaked and groaned obligingly, the third from the bottom making the usual chirping sound. She skidded into the living room, flying past the threadbare sofa and Buddy’s chair, covered with hair, as usual.
Then she was out the front door, which banged shut with a screech behind her, racing down the walkway and into Jacob’s outstretched arms.
She swooped into the air, wind rushing through her hair, making it even messier than it already was. His fingers tickled her as he put her back down, and she giggled, squirming away. He pulled her into a bear hug, holding her tight. ~
Pearl Harbor Story. (Yeah, I'm bad with titles. :P Have you noticed? :P )

“Come along, the lions are ready.”
“Lions?” Paul stopped dead in his tracks.
“Yes, lions.” The man studied Paul’s white face. “Why are you in here, anyway? You are no more then a boy.”
“I ran away,” Paul managed, staring at the walls beyond the man.
The man grunted. “Well, that was stupid.” ~ Loving Your Enemies.

Sophie leaned back in the chair, looked to see if anyone was around and let her breath out in an exasperated whoosh. The she kicked off the desk and spun around and around, staring at the ceiling until she was dizzy.
When this happened, she stopped gulped for air, and began again. Her bangs flew bounced gaily on her forehead, and she skimmed around the room, spinning and smiling. What fun! She must ask dad to get one for her room at home, it was taking away all her worries!
She gave another kick, and skimmed across the floor, slamming against the desk. There was a dry clearing of a throat, and she sat bolt upright, embarrassment washing over her and Mr. Peabody studied her over his spectacles from the doorway.
To her relief, he didn’t scold, but merely commented as he sat back down, “Are you in the habit, Miss Kent, of spinning around office buildings with you head hanging off the back of the chair?”
“N--no sir.” She scooted back over to the desk, and straightened her skirt. “What did you want to show me, sir?” ~ September Story

“We should go, Rita,” Richard decided, pulling Rita to her feet. It was only until she was standing on the bank that Rita realized she had had the perfect opportunity to yank him into the water like he had done, but now it was too late.
Phooey. ~ The Lost World.

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” remarked Richard. They were out of breathe and had collapsed on the sand bank to rest.
“Does it hurt?” Rita asked.
Richard threw a leaf in her hair. “I knew you were going to say that.”
“Then why did you pause to let me say it?”
“My dear chap, I would never have dreamt of depriving you from your moment of triumph,” Richard quoted, “alas, a moment was all I could spare.”
“Sink me,” Rita yawned.
“Okay.” Richard shoved her into the shallow water.
“Oh, you knew what I meant! Anyway, what is it?”
“Well, let’s make a dam!”
“Okay. But why here, why not back at the house?”
“Mmm, I don’t know, maybe because there are waterfalls here, and not back home.”
“So, do you want to do it?”
“Sure, okay,”
“Oh, well, thank you, your vote of confidence is overwhelming.”
“Alright, alright, let’s do it! But please stop quoting something for everything I say! You’ve already quoted The Scarlet Pimpernel and The Princess Bride. What’s next, Sherlock Holmes?”
“Elementary, my dear Watson.”
“You know, he never actually says that.”
“I know, I know. But, anyway, what’s wrong with you today? You’re usually the one quoting every other minute.”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Rita said sheepishly, “but--”
“But you just want something to complain about?” Richard teased.
“Hey!” She chased him for that, finally succeeding in getting him to collapse on the sandbank so she could tickle him. But he only grabbed her, picked her up, and deposited her in the water.
“How come you’re so strong?” she grumbled jokingly.
“I exercise,” Richard said, rising to his feet and displaying a muscle. “Come on, let’s get to work.” ~ The Lost World.

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