Scribblingly Ever Afterwards

Sometimes stories jump out at you out of a clear blue sky, demanding to be written. Sometimes they're only a whisper that wants you to write it out, and other times they simply and suddenly Are. Sometimes they even type themselves out in your mind, as if you're reading a book... Some are a single paragraph, content to stay that way, while others direct a stream of words at you until they are a full chapter, and only stop there for lack of time to be written.

And whichever way they come to be, they tend to be so alive that you know the contents of their very attics and deepest thoughts in that one brief instant in which they happen to you. You don't know HOW you know them, but it seems to you that you must always have. They have only waited until just now to introduce themselves.

These are what I call Story Thoughts.

Sometimes they happen several times a day. Other times I'll go weeks without having one. But I have taken to writing them down as they come along, and as time goes by, am collecting quite a tidy little sum of them. 

Now, I suppose these ought to go in my Scribbler's Nook deep in the archives, but I have half an inkling (scratch that; a whole one.) that it might be more fun to simply share them in post fashion, exactly as they come, in neat little stacks like so many pancakes that supply their own butter and syrup. Or strawberry jam, as the case may be.

And so you see them before you today, all merrily muddled together and strung like beads in roughly the order they occurred to me! This is going to be one of those Just For Fun type posts, in case you hadn't already jumped to that conclusion :P And speaking of jumping, shall we up and in? *Gathers up her skirts and holds her nose*

Geronimo!!

"At that moment, a thought clubbed him over the head with such ferocity that he involuntarily reached up to see if it had raised a bump."

                                         ~*~

"She stood still for a moment, cocking her head to one side and looking at him.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "What?"

"I'm trying to figure if you're actually trying to make me mad, or if it's just one of those unique talents of yours."

                                         ~*~

"He looked at her quizzically, and she obliged with an answer.

"I want a word picture. A verbal postcard, if you will, but nothing like the kind you mail, oh no."

And she was laughing with a wicked amusement flashing mischievously from her eyes. It intrigued him, and he begged her make her request a little plainer to the minds of ordinary mortals who did not often deal in word paintings, be they postcards or otherwise.

(This one turned into a scribble, click here if you also would like to know more about word paintings. Why yes, it is a rabbit hole, however did you guess it?)

                                          ~*~

"He looked like the kind of person you would trust implicitly in a crisis, and not much farther than you could throw him in peace time."

                                     ~*~

"The formerly gentle sea breeze now grew into a young and impetuous gale, which hurled itself at them as if desirous to show off its newfound strength."

                                     ~*~

"This object was extricated with no small difficulty from the young master's hands, and borne away gingerly to be relieved of a layer of stickiness in the water closet by a conveniently placed parlour maid.

Edward looked down at the small boy still squirming in his hands, and resisted the urge to box those finely set little ears.

He spoke sternly, and could almost see them swivelling away from him.

"Now see here, sir! You'll leave off this howling or go without your supper."

The boy stuck his nose in the air defiantly, and was only spared the aforementioned boxing on the grounds that direct orders as to procedure had not yet been given.

"You can't do that. Grandpa won't let you."

And Edward suddenly thought he would leave it for Mrs. O' Halloran to explain the reality of this to the boy. This sort of thing wasn't for big lumbering valets to do. It required a delicate touch somewhere between sympathy and firmness which he did not believe himself to possess."

(Do not ask me how I know that it was the valet who did the extricating, or that the household staff have been put in charge of looking after the young master of the house as sort of legal guardians after his grandfather's passing, until a permanent one can be established. Also that the cook is exasperated, and the valet would like to give the boy (seven,) a good taste of hair-brush-on-britches, but he is not quite sure if this is allowable in valets who are looking after small persons in this situation.)

                                     ~*~

"And he tucked into his tea in such a way that quite a good deal of it got onto his travelling clothes, and his overcoat was found afterward to have suffered much in the way of crumbs and jam."

                                     ~*~

"Augustus, on seeing a particularly red train set in an especially well lit window display, promptly set about having a tantrum in front of the window on being told that he had already spent his pocket-money for that week, and no, advancements in that area could not be made.

She was just in the process of reaching nervously into her own purse to reduce the pitch of the tantrum when she observed an overly large (she thought,) and disagreeable looking gentleman peering disapprovingly at them from behind his spectacles. She hastily withdrew her hand as this gentleman observed that it was his humble opinion that children ought to be seen only when called for, speak only when to do so was expressly requested, and seemed on the point of backing up these assertions with the toe of his hob nailed footwear. 

So indeed did the general crowd of onlookers, 

and she hurried her charge hastily out reach, pouring out feeble remonstrances all the while in an attempt at upholding justice to whatever degree she might be capable of in her own small way."

                                    ~*~

You see? No rhyme or reason to them, just little snippets of story that Happen as often when you least expect them as they do when you're busy trying to think of them! But it's fun to me to see them written down, for all their shortness and irregularity, and it is tempting to make a habit of these posts now. But of course, if I PLAN to make them a common occurrence, it is very likely not to happen at all XD So I am not planning, but also saying they might just ;) 

Yours Scribblingly,

~Emi