Buffy ,'Chosen'
A place for Buffistas to discuss, beta and otherwise deal and dish on their non-fan fiction projects.
Um...Insomnia and a hideous backache. Actually, the backache is causing the insomnia, I think. I have chronic upper back problems.
I'm not working tomorrow, so it's not as bad as it could be. I did just run hot water for a bath; hopefully that will help.
Backflung take 3.
Did it work that time? If so, I'm off to bath and hopefully some sleep shortly therafter.
(grinning at Plei) A girl in a tree!
Kristin, take 3, also no joy. The clowns are eating it, I think; email sent back, with head-banging noises, and I do not mean of the musical variety.
Take a bath. Get some sleep. We will try again, a demain.
Deb is wise.
Okay, I'm off. G'night and we'll try again tomorrow.
(can't sleep, clowns'll eat me)
(grinning at Plei) A girl in a tree!
Heh. Yes, I saw that. I squeaked a bit, myself.
My head, despite the clowns, is still singing after a glorious two-plus hours of story conferencing this weekend. I loves me some Plei.
I also loves me some Bev and some Kristin. Clowns, however, are evil.
Even Krusty.
Especially Krusty...he's a hack comic. What's worse?
He stood over her, as she lay on the bed, his face a mixture of confusion, irritation, amusement and tenderness. He’d best get on with it. He had the kind of light touch that made people call him in at times like this, because he was so coordinated. Even as she extended her hands, she dreaded what most surely would come next.: the questions, the blame. She took a deep breath. “Please,” she says. “ help me. It just happened...I don’t know.” “Just tell me again,” he says. “so I understand. Just how is it you got your rings linked together?”
buhWAHAHAHAHA!
Here's a knots drabble:
He tied the last rope holding the tarp over the load in the back of the pickup. "I'll call you as soon as I get there," he said, and kissed her goodbye. He had taught her how to tie her shoes so that they wouldn't come untied. She could still feel his small, clever hands, trained by years on the ocean, guiding her hands to loop the ties a second time. There were calls: daily, then weekly, then not at all. She was not sad, but felt a small stab of regret when she saw ropes or shoelaces or boats.