Dear John

fountain pen

“What instrument shall I use, and what medium to convey my deepest and most honest wishes?”  Annalisa, one hand holding her elbow, the other holding her chin, scanned the open drawer filled with seven different kinds of pens (one with eight different nibs for calligraphy), a half dozen different colored inks, brushes of many sizes and an uncounted number of acrylic paints (some rolled tight into tiny secret snails of color, others fat and shiny like a slug that didn’t give a shit), a box of 50-count soft pastels (none broken, but all tested and of different lengths…a lovely diversity), and no markers of any kind as she detested them. Continue reading

Well, Why Not? (Part 4)

Sister Indelicata left the cacophony of squeals and laughter behind her; the tall, hardwood door sneezed delicately shut, blessing the happy, healed family. Indelicata’s bare feet whispered swift and sure, softer than the guttering of the beeswax candles that provided more scent than light. Continue reading

Well, Why Not? (Part 1)

Damask pattern, black on whiteHow to get from one side of the room to the other without causing too much of a commotion in the main ballroom?

Yes, the Duchess was sure to notice that her twin wards, Tikk and Tokk, hadn’t stayed in their novice’s cells as they’d been directed, instead slipping the pins out of their door hinges and gently laying the wooden doors against the opposite wall without creating too much of a bang, but then, they planned to be long gone before that happened. Continue reading