deb, insent.

Kristin, sorry I missed this round. Maybe I could try and help you out next time?

connie, I have no idea about the legal stuff, but I think that Gollum is now too famous a name from LotR to not be recognised, unlike, say, Angmar.

Monday morning means new drabble topic! (At least, when I'm on the ball, it does.)

Challenge #31 (the quote about being an adult "in disguise") is now closed. I promise to not use quotes in the future, as this one didn't generate a lot of interest.

Challenge #32 is breath. Deep breaths, catching your breath, out of breath -- whatever sparks the writing lobe of your brain. Go to it!

I was mulling the name thing over my morning popcorn and figure I'll go mining the Norse and Germanic legends for good villain names. It's where Papa Tolkien got his.

Nilly, never too late. Insent.

Tep, FWIW, I loved that drabble topic and just ran out of time this past week. It was a crazy hectic week. I think I'll be writing one or two more regardless.

Kristin, both attachment don't open, silly technology. Could you please re-send?

See, I would never have recognised most of the LotR names, so I would suck as a beta reader for that.

Kristin, insent.

Earth Alive

It's quiet here. The air is full of birdsong, strange tropical birds with names I don't recognise.

We came to work, at least you did, but the work's done, and here we are, staring at volcanoes and a black sand beach and blue water that pushes into the horizon. You don't like heat much - thin Anglo blood - but on the third day, you find a thin shirt and stand beside me, looking across at Kilauea, at lava streams running down to the sea.

"How odd," you say, with surprise in your voice. "The earth here - it's breathing."

It wasn't the topic, Tep. This week has been too hard. I wrote one but I'm not sure I like it. It is probably a downer.

Love Poem

My head against your chest, you're breathing soft, and light, and even.

You're asleep, perfect lovely sleep, I know you are and yet you sleep deep so rarely, I have to be sure, I have to know, is it real breath, are you dreaming

Are you dreaming of me? I want you to be dreaming of me

Your ribs, so fragile, rising, falling, my head against you, the regular dance of your heart and lungs beneath my cheek

I shift, easing weight

My shoulder's cramped

And I don't care

I lay here, I love you

I listen to you breathe.

Deb-

I know that this is probably much too late for you, but here is the reply from my friend regarding the Texas town lighting. (He thought about it too much not to post this.)

Kristin,

Hey, I've been in NOLA since thursday, so I just now got this e-mail. I don't know if the answers are still relevant or not, but it was a good mental puzzle for a Monday morning, so I decided to answer it anyway. Jess is working on a paper today, so I decided not to bring in her help. But I took a crack at it with some help from friends at the Texas State Historical Association and the Texas Railroad Commission (which, oddly, is also in charge of everything involving petrochemicals). Ultimately, the answer to her question is "It all depends on what kind of small Texas town", but I've sketched out some of the perimeters below:

This answer is going to vary depending on the geographic location and general affluence level of the town she wants to portray ... in 1895 a small town in East Texas, South Texas, Central Texas, or West Texas would all have dramatically different appearances, including the nature and scope of public lighting. The overall affluence level of the town will have an effect as well. A brief summary of the options:

By 1895, many of the cities and even a few of the small towns in Texas were already using electric lights of the old carbon-arc variety (gave off a dim, warm, fuzzy well diffused light compared to modern bulbs). This would be plausible if the town is relatively affluent and near a large city (*especially* Galveston or Austin).

Gaslights would be a plausible option in most areas of the state where the town was not terribly isolated geographically (due to high transport costs for petrochemicals in that era) which might rule out most of West Texas and some of South Texas. While gaslight systems were not terribly expensive, the town in question would have to not be dirt poor ... and the city government would have to be willing to carry the expense. (I don't know if this is typical elsewhere, but in many Texas towns the first gas systems were private -- used for the major hotel or the local theatre, a wealthy family, etc. while the public lighting systems would have used something lower tech and with a less costly infrastructure.

For a small town in East Texas or North Texas, kerosene lamps would have been a strong possibility. Ironically (given contemporary stereotypes of the state), this kerosene would not have been produced locally (commercially viable deposits of petroleum were not discovered in Texas until 1901) but would have been imported from Pennsylvania (then America's largest oil producing state).

A South Texas town will probably have the plaza, most important church (which is probably on the plaza anyway), and other key public spaces lit using old fashioned lamp-oil or *possibly* kerosene or other petroleum distillates. The system would probably be maintained by volunteer lamp lighters organized by local alcalde (as it had been for century or two before hand).

Some towns in West Texas (if they were very isolated) or South Texas (if they were very small and very isolated) might have no public lighting system at all.

One other thing I noticed while reading the e-mail -- and you can pass it along or not, regarding the line "this is the town hall we're talking about". I know that may just be the author's own verbal idiom and may not be how it's treated in the story -- but it would be unusual for a Texan to refer to their municipal building as the "town hall" -- even if the community in question consists of seven people and a cross-eyed goat, they're going call it "city hall".

Okay, back to recovering from four days in New Orleans and the changes at work. Hope you are well and talk later.

He rocks pretty hard, this friend. Sorry if it's too late, but too good to pass up.