Post by Annalise Winter on May 10, 2010 13:56:35 GMT -8
She throws her head
and glides against the stream..."[/i]
Annalise Winters had been living alone for over ten years now. Even before her late husband, William, had died- run over by a car, what had the world come to?- she had always been a bit of an antisocial person. People were a nuisance, they were unnecessary, why should she have to interact with them more than necessary? She had always loved her cats, however, and was proud to have one of the oldest cats in the world. (She had sent a picture to the Guinness Book of World Records, but they had replied, saying there was another cat who was a month older.) Tibby was seventeen years now, and Annalise looked after her better than she did herself; Tibby had been her twenty-fifth anniversary present from William. A few other cats roamed the halls of her small cottage in eastern Minnesota as well, but Tibby was her favourite.
The voices had come to Annalise about five years ago, which was when she really started to lose her social standing amongst her friends. Her dearest friend, Penelope Keetpar had never looked at her the same way after Annalise had told her how there was an alien life-force on their way to Earth, but Annalise had always known she would have the last laugh.
She sighed now though, walking slowly down the steps, out of her conservatory and into her nicely-kept garden. Her aging hands shook as she bent over to pick up the garden hose, and her mouth turned into a slightly wry smile, remniscent of the old days where she had had all of her vigour and strength. Slowly, she turned the nozzle, and nearly jumped back as the spray came on harshly. Tibby let out a mew, and scampered slowly back inside, finding the experience far too alarming for such an old and dignified cat. Annalise carefully tightened the nozzle and directed the spray onto her flowers, smiling at the rainbow that appeared.
Human life could just be so good, and that had been one of the things she had liked about the Others. They had known how to take the bad out of people, how to make them completly special and perfect. They had used Annalise as a trial run, and for a day, she had had no impulses to do anything mean or harmful. She had explored her old town with new eyes, appreciating every little sight and every word spoken to her. She wasn't quite sure how they had done it, but she had returned home to find that the 'bad' part of her wrecking havoc on her nice home; the 'bad' her had even pulled Tibby's tails!
Still, Annalise had appreciated the message of the Others. The thought of it made her old bones tingle now, and stopping the hose, she walked slowly over to the fountain that sat in her backyard. The fountain was stone and grey, decorated around the edges by moldings of birds chirping. When Tibby was a kitten, she had enjoyed attacking those birds; one still had a chip on its tail. "Hello," she said, her voice quavering as always. It was about noon, and Annalise had spent the morning baking cookies that no one would eat. That was the sad bit about this new world, no one would appreciate her for a while.
As she touched her wrinkled old fingers into the bowl, the voices of the Others trickled through her thoughts, never speaking, but embodying themselves in her mental streams. She became aware that had been an error, and that a school bus was travelling from the small city of Kingston, crammed full of people. 'An unexpected development,' she- or some Other in her brain- thought. 'I'll have to greet them.
Breaking the contact with the bowl, she patted her leg softly, gesturing for Tibby to come along. She returned to her kitchen slowly, picking up her walking stick so that she would appear a little less fragile- and indeed, Annalise had become fragile over the years, her originally short self shrinking and the soft skin around her face growing age lines- and picking up the platter of chocolate chip cookies. Maybe there would be someone to enjoy the whole batch besides herself. Balancing the platter as carefully as she might have thirty years ago, she walked through the kitchen and across the faded red carpet of her living room to the front porch. She felt a little surprised as she realized that she hadn't been out in a few days; she had a cow and chickens in her back yard as well as her mighty garden, and didn't need much from the outside.
The steps were a little slippery from the rain the previous night, and Annalise was careful as she stepped down them and across her front garden, a circular place surrounded by the looping driveway. Annalise had never owned a car, but other people found the thing useful. Leaves coated the road just outside her rural home, and she walked into the middle, peering down into the distance in the hopes of seeing something, someone. Maybe she was a little lonely, deep down inside.
She smoothed her floral skirt, ironed only yesterday, and checked to make sure that the pearl buttons of her ivory blouse were done up all the way to the top. She gave her silvery hair a quick pat; the wind sometimes tended to unsecure the pins of her soft bun. Okay, she was prepared to meet people, but where could they be now?
[/color][/center]
~TheCure, A Foolish Arrangement[/right]
and glides against the stream..."[/i]
Annalise Winters had been living alone for over ten years now. Even before her late husband, William, had died- run over by a car, what had the world come to?- she had always been a bit of an antisocial person. People were a nuisance, they were unnecessary, why should she have to interact with them more than necessary? She had always loved her cats, however, and was proud to have one of the oldest cats in the world. (She had sent a picture to the Guinness Book of World Records, but they had replied, saying there was another cat who was a month older.) Tibby was seventeen years now, and Annalise looked after her better than she did herself; Tibby had been her twenty-fifth anniversary present from William. A few other cats roamed the halls of her small cottage in eastern Minnesota as well, but Tibby was her favourite.
The voices had come to Annalise about five years ago, which was when she really started to lose her social standing amongst her friends. Her dearest friend, Penelope Keetpar had never looked at her the same way after Annalise had told her how there was an alien life-force on their way to Earth, but Annalise had always known she would have the last laugh.
She sighed now though, walking slowly down the steps, out of her conservatory and into her nicely-kept garden. Her aging hands shook as she bent over to pick up the garden hose, and her mouth turned into a slightly wry smile, remniscent of the old days where she had had all of her vigour and strength. Slowly, she turned the nozzle, and nearly jumped back as the spray came on harshly. Tibby let out a mew, and scampered slowly back inside, finding the experience far too alarming for such an old and dignified cat. Annalise carefully tightened the nozzle and directed the spray onto her flowers, smiling at the rainbow that appeared.
Human life could just be so good, and that had been one of the things she had liked about the Others. They had known how to take the bad out of people, how to make them completly special and perfect. They had used Annalise as a trial run, and for a day, she had had no impulses to do anything mean or harmful. She had explored her old town with new eyes, appreciating every little sight and every word spoken to her. She wasn't quite sure how they had done it, but she had returned home to find that the 'bad' part of her wrecking havoc on her nice home; the 'bad' her had even pulled Tibby's tails!
Still, Annalise had appreciated the message of the Others. The thought of it made her old bones tingle now, and stopping the hose, she walked slowly over to the fountain that sat in her backyard. The fountain was stone and grey, decorated around the edges by moldings of birds chirping. When Tibby was a kitten, she had enjoyed attacking those birds; one still had a chip on its tail. "Hello," she said, her voice quavering as always. It was about noon, and Annalise had spent the morning baking cookies that no one would eat. That was the sad bit about this new world, no one would appreciate her for a while.
As she touched her wrinkled old fingers into the bowl, the voices of the Others trickled through her thoughts, never speaking, but embodying themselves in her mental streams. She became aware that had been an error, and that a school bus was travelling from the small city of Kingston, crammed full of people. 'An unexpected development,' she- or some Other in her brain- thought. 'I'll have to greet them.
Breaking the contact with the bowl, she patted her leg softly, gesturing for Tibby to come along. She returned to her kitchen slowly, picking up her walking stick so that she would appear a little less fragile- and indeed, Annalise had become fragile over the years, her originally short self shrinking and the soft skin around her face growing age lines- and picking up the platter of chocolate chip cookies. Maybe there would be someone to enjoy the whole batch besides herself. Balancing the platter as carefully as she might have thirty years ago, she walked through the kitchen and across the faded red carpet of her living room to the front porch. She felt a little surprised as she realized that she hadn't been out in a few days; she had a cow and chickens in her back yard as well as her mighty garden, and didn't need much from the outside.
The steps were a little slippery from the rain the previous night, and Annalise was careful as she stepped down them and across her front garden, a circular place surrounded by the looping driveway. Annalise had never owned a car, but other people found the thing useful. Leaves coated the road just outside her rural home, and she walked into the middle, peering down into the distance in the hopes of seeing something, someone. Maybe she was a little lonely, deep down inside.
She smoothed her floral skirt, ironed only yesterday, and checked to make sure that the pearl buttons of her ivory blouse were done up all the way to the top. She gave her silvery hair a quick pat; the wind sometimes tended to unsecure the pins of her soft bun. Okay, she was prepared to meet people, but where could they be now?
Throwing me her bravest smile
defiant, glittering, shivering guile..."
[/i]defiant, glittering, shivering guile..."
~TheCure, A Foolish Arrangement[/right]
