Morning all. Last night I had nightmares about my neighbors breeding killer bees in their shed. Now I feel the need to look out of the window and stare at their rather innocuous looking shed and wonder what evil it contains. I am resisting the urge. So in an attempt to turn my attention away, I’m jumping into the morning writing prompt. Anyone care to join me? If so, set the timers and let’s get into it.
I like this set up. There are many ways it could branch and I like Charlotte. Not sure what path she will take, mostly because I don’t know what story she’ll feature but she just has protagonist written all over her. This is one I will return to write. Perhaps I’ll make it my next fifteen minute novel. That might be fun.
Wednesday, June 8th: He was just pleasant.
He was just pleasant. It was almost a letdown after all of the horrid things Charlotte heard said about him. Most descriptions of him painted him as some sort of beast, a creature who could hold no civilized conversation and destroyed china if attending a tea.
And yet here he was sitting pleasantly upon their settee and sipping from their best bone china tea cups. He was perfectly pleasant with a polite smile upon his face and an attentive look on his face. It was true he looked a little uncomfortable. He was a large man and it seemed such a small cup held in his enormous hands.
Even though he wore the height of city fashion, and looked well doing so, Charlotte knew that he had only lately come to town and that he was more familiar with wilder foreign climes. Even though he was dressed properly and said the right things, there was something of the wildness in his nature. It was as though he agreed to the calm orderly scene, but was well aware that it could erupt into violence at any time and that he would be prepared to immediately deal with it.
Charlotte was not used to thinking of her mother’s parlor as a potential scene for violence. It was a place for cutting remarks that led to stiff lipped attempts to prove the words of her sisters’ friends and suitors did not hurt her and have the impact they desired. While she often contemplated violence behind her own stony but pleasant façade, it had never yet erupted.
Looking at him over the rim of her teacup, Charlotte could actually see it becoming a reality. His eyes, when they left the face of his hostess, darted to corners, doorways and windows as though expecting an attack. They seemed to make the rounds, covering all of those spaces before returning to polite attention. He was quite good at covering it. He used the desire to add a slice of lemon to his cup to lean forward and scan the room the first time. The second he took one of the cooks delicate tea time treats from the tray. The third he waited until the conversation shifted to Lucinda and used the act of turning to make the study.
His attention was beginning to make her jumpy. While in general little attention was paid to her unless the sisters and their friends decided to make sport of her, but she was certain if she started checking the corners, windows and doors for interlopers someone would notice. She didn’t possess the skill to carry off such a study unnoticed and she knew it. However she was becoming twitchy and almost expecting to find someone sneaking up on her unawares at any moment. She took a refill of tea and managed to dart a glance to the corner nearest her.
It was empty and she felt foolish as she settled back into the conversation.
‘Who did you think would be sneaking up into one of Mother’s teas?’ she berated herself, determined not to give in and look into any other corners. ‘Most people try to avoid them.’
“Is that all right with you Charlotte?” Mother asked. Charlotte startled, nearly dropping her teacup at being directly addressed.
Ten til Midnight 