And connie, your last paragraph started tears. It's what I want, too.

The thought gives me great peace.

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trying to scentmark

Mmmm. I was going to write something very similar to that (but not so well wordsmithed) about leaving our old house.

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The thing is, the two cats in the house followed me from room to room, Pig scentmarking everything about an inch away from where I was touching. It was - I don't know. An affirmation.

And all wrong. Her house, not mine. And the stupid heedless fool, who had everything I wanted, didn't treasure anything except the status and the visibility. And somehow or other, she got to keep it all.

This challenge is just about as hard for me to deal with as I suspected it would be when I suggested it.

edit: sorry. This is really kicking my ass. But if I get some decent writing out of it, well...

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It is smaller now. She is bigger. The rooms can't swallow her up anymore, but she doesn't need to hide. Every wall feels within her reach. No monsters lurk around corners, chasing her behind the furniture.

They are smaller now. She is bigger. She won't be running now, or failing to run, and bruising and crying instead. Her arms reach further than theirs, faster than theirs, stronger than theirs. She doesn't flinch at the sound of her own footsteps.

"Carol?" The cry is querulous.

"What?"

"The water ... you said we could have water."

"For Christ's sake, mother, I'm coming."

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ita just gave me grave-cold chills. Personal issues.

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Ditto, but not personal issues - ita, you just brought back (in entirely different language) one of the bases of Jackson's "Haunting of Hill House", Eleanor with her invalid needy demanding mother, draining Eleanor's life away, making Eleanor susceptible...

Damn. Nice, nice, whoa and nice.

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Wow, ita.

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Limps into the thread after three days with no Internet connection (shakes fist at Comcast), with lots of catching up to do.

I swear, being suddenly Internet-less is like going cold turkey, with only slightly less shuddering and heaving.

So much to read! And new drabbles to do...

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I just wrote about 700 words on "Cruel Sister", and am still working.

Nice to be able to focus, at all.

And shall be begging my usual beta readers later today, hopefully.

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OK, request for help time, not yet beta-reading:

I've just reached a point in writing Cruel Sister where Ringan, dreaming, is seeing the murder of one sister by another. The historical scenario: the girls are of very good family, visiting the Palace of Placentia (or Pleasaunce) in Greenwich, for Henry VIII's wedding to Anne of Cleves.

What would the normal daywear be for teenaged girls of good family, visiting the royal court? The girls are sororal twins, not identical, aged nuble and just about old enough to marry in those days, say about 15-16.

And would their hair be up, or down, normally? I know flowing hair was the sign of a spinster, but did that apply to teenaged girls?

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