mrsmig

mrsmig

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"Once I'm installed as king, I'll be making some changes," Rob said. "First, I'm going to get rid of that long leech that clings to Hogia's backside."

wolf

Wolfe looked up at him, and an impish grin crossed his face. He bowed, his withered leg thrust out with all the grace he could muster. "Oh, stop it," Kristan said crossly. "Robbie, come up here, please."

She was hungrier than she realized, and had wolfed down one bowl of stew and was in the process of helping herself to another when she felt Kristan's gaze. She let go of the ladle, embarassed, but he only smiled. "I like to see you with an appetite," he said.

Heather squinted as the rising sun sent shifting patterns of light across the summer-still lake. There - a series of ripples as Kristan's head broke the surface.

Sunlight poured through the glass, playing strongly on the baby's face. The child's small features were screwed tight against the light, and with a few gentle words, Kristan bent to pick her up.

He drew a circle in the sand with his forefinger. It pleased him when he was done; he made another circle interlocking that one, then another. When he had five he began to hum the Olympics anthem.

He put his hand on his chest, monitoring his own heartbeat. There was no need to be so frightened; Avi had only spooked herself with the halves of the ball, and she seemed all right now. Yet his heart still hammered in his chest.

His sleeves were pushed back to the elbow but no further. Further would have exposed the scars that laced his biceps. Even on the hottest days, his forearms were all she saw.

The market trolley was an old one. Its push bar was rusted and the advert peeling; the wheels wobbled like a drunk after last call.

He towers over me, at once threatening and awesome. I know he could swat me down like a bear swatting a rabbit, but I also know that a rabbit is beneath this bear's notice.

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writing since 2013 · 256 entries · 253 days shown up

each square is a day—lit means mrsmig showed up.

27longest streak

253days written

1.1entries / week

on this day 13 years ago

mrsmig wrote about measure
“There was no way he could measure up. He knew it, and knew the futility of trying. But some screwed-up sense of hope kept him going, kept him trying and failing and trying and failing again.”

the words mrsmig reaches for

eyesfaceheadhardhairstoodfingerswordtryinglighthandagainstwallnowwaterwords