(no subject)
Feb. 9th, 2005 08:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ginny_tOkay, here's the first one. My writer-ly muscles are all tired now, and I have to edit this afternoon's notes. The others will come later, in all their strange glory. (My friends are weird! It makes me happy.)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
everyonesakitty gave these:
1. a silk scarf once worn by a now-dead princess
2. a Bernini fountain in a piazza in Rome
3. a silver chalice engraved with images of angels and demons
"Allo Mémé!" Sara cried as she scampered into the sitting room of the nursing home.
Her grandmother looked up from her knitting, a smile rearranging the wrinkles of her face. "Belle Sara!" she said, putting her work down and reaching out for a hug, which the 9-year-old girl gave without hesitation.
Sara clambered onto the couch beside her grandmother, careful of the knitting that was there also. "It's raining," she pouted. "We can't go for a walk in the garden."
"No dear, we can't," the old woman agreed. "Where is your father?"
"He's talking to the nurse," was the reply. Sara made a sour face. "I don't like the nurse. She thinks you're not well."
"I don't like the nurse either, for that very reason."
Sara sat quietly, swinging her feet energetically as her grandmother carefully put her knitting away. She jumped in surprise as a scrap of once-colourful silk wafted down and landed on her head. It finally came to rest drooping over one of the girl's hazelnut-coloured eyes.
"What?" she exclaimed, carefully pulling the scarf off her head. She held it in her hands, enjoying the feel & lightness of the material. "Oh, this is pretty," she cooed.
"Yes," her grandmother agreed. "There's a story to this scarf, would you like to hear it?"
Sara nodded wordlessly, her already bright eyes lighting further at the prospect.
Her grandmother reached out gently for the scarf, and ended up with her arm around the little girl. "When I was a young girl in Paris, I went to Rome after I graduated. The trip was a present from my uncle Antoine, who was very wealthy, and had an apartment in Rome that he let me use for several weeks. It was a very exciting time.
"I was walking through the streets one day, looking for a particular piazza with a Bernini fountain. It wasn't a very nice day, I remember. The weather was cool, and cloudy, the air was damp, but it hadn't rained, and I was sure it wouldn't.
"I was wrong, it turned out. I just got to the piazza, when the rain started. I wasn't the only person caught in the rain. I could see people running into all the shops on the square. I managed to get a table under the awning of a cafe on the square. It was actually very nice to be sheltered from the rain, but still outside.
"All the tables of the cafe were taken, but an woman came along looking so sad in the rain that I offered to let her join me at the table.
"As she sat, I noticed she was limping slightly. I asked her if she was okay. She said yes, but that her hip ached in the wet weather. She thought that a cup of coffee would help.
"So we sat and made small talk over our coffee. She told me she was a Russian princess named Vera, who had to leave the country during the revolution there. She went to Paris, but she didn't like it. So she came to Rome.
"I didn't ask her the whole story, but I could tell she had a romantic past, that her heart had been broken. She seemed so sad, and alone.
"Eventually, the rain stopped, and our coffee was done. The princess stood, and said good-bye to me. As she was walking away, I saw that she was still limping, that it looked worse than when she had first sat down.
"I offered to walk her home, said I was going that way, and would she like some help. She accepted. Fortunately, it wasn't far to her place, but there were so many stairs that I insisted on helping her right up to her little apartment.
"It was small, and a little dingy, but the view of Rome was beautiful. The Princess left me for a minute to change into dry clothes. I was looking out on the view when I almost knocked something off a little table by the terrace.
"I caught it before it fell, which was good, because it looked very valuable. It was a very strange thing: a silver chalice with carvings of angels and demons fighting. A chalice is a cup," she interrupted the story to explain to her perplexed-looking granddaughter.
"Why not just call it a cup, then?" she asked.
"Because if it's a chalice, then it's art," was the explanation.
"What did you do with the cup?"
"I put it back where it belonged," she replied as if it were obvious. "The princess returned just as I was putting it back, and told me it was one of the only things she'd been able to take with her when she ran from St. Petersburg. It wasn't very valuable, actually, it was quite ugly, but precious to her for sentimental reasons.
'We talked a little more, but she became tired, and I felt I should go. She convinced me to come and visit her again, but it was the end of my time in Rome, I was leaving a few days later. She seemed sad, but thanked me for helping her.
"As I was leaving, she stopped me. She was holding this scarf, the colours were brighter then, and said that she wanted me to take it. She said that a friend of her family had given it to her when she was my age, and she wanted to pass it along to me.
"I didn't think I should take it, but she insisted, and eventually I gave in. I've kept it with me all this time, I even wore it when I left on my honeymoon with your grandfather."
"Oh," Sara said. The scarf was still held by both of them. Sara let go of it almost reluctantly. "It's very pretty."
"I'm glad you think so," her grandmother said. "When you're a little older, I'll give it to you, and you can wear it for special occasions, like your wedding. Then, when the time comes, you will give it to someone who you think deserves it."
"Really? Thank you Mémé!" she cried, throwing her arms around her grandmother once more.
everyonesakitty gave these:1. a silk scarf once worn by a now-dead princess
2. a Bernini fountain in a piazza in Rome
3. a silver chalice engraved with images of angels and demons
"Allo Mémé!" Sara cried as she scampered into the sitting room of the nursing home.
Her grandmother looked up from her knitting, a smile rearranging the wrinkles of her face. "Belle Sara!" she said, putting her work down and reaching out for a hug, which the 9-year-old girl gave without hesitation.
Sara clambered onto the couch beside her grandmother, careful of the knitting that was there also. "It's raining," she pouted. "We can't go for a walk in the garden."
"No dear, we can't," the old woman agreed. "Where is your father?"
"He's talking to the nurse," was the reply. Sara made a sour face. "I don't like the nurse. She thinks you're not well."
"I don't like the nurse either, for that very reason."
Sara sat quietly, swinging her feet energetically as her grandmother carefully put her knitting away. She jumped in surprise as a scrap of once-colourful silk wafted down and landed on her head. It finally came to rest drooping over one of the girl's hazelnut-coloured eyes.
"What?" she exclaimed, carefully pulling the scarf off her head. She held it in her hands, enjoying the feel & lightness of the material. "Oh, this is pretty," she cooed.
"Yes," her grandmother agreed. "There's a story to this scarf, would you like to hear it?"
Sara nodded wordlessly, her already bright eyes lighting further at the prospect.
Her grandmother reached out gently for the scarf, and ended up with her arm around the little girl. "When I was a young girl in Paris, I went to Rome after I graduated. The trip was a present from my uncle Antoine, who was very wealthy, and had an apartment in Rome that he let me use for several weeks. It was a very exciting time.
"I was walking through the streets one day, looking for a particular piazza with a Bernini fountain. It wasn't a very nice day, I remember. The weather was cool, and cloudy, the air was damp, but it hadn't rained, and I was sure it wouldn't.
"I was wrong, it turned out. I just got to the piazza, when the rain started. I wasn't the only person caught in the rain. I could see people running into all the shops on the square. I managed to get a table under the awning of a cafe on the square. It was actually very nice to be sheltered from the rain, but still outside.
"All the tables of the cafe were taken, but an woman came along looking so sad in the rain that I offered to let her join me at the table.
"As she sat, I noticed she was limping slightly. I asked her if she was okay. She said yes, but that her hip ached in the wet weather. She thought that a cup of coffee would help.
"So we sat and made small talk over our coffee. She told me she was a Russian princess named Vera, who had to leave the country during the revolution there. She went to Paris, but she didn't like it. So she came to Rome.
"I didn't ask her the whole story, but I could tell she had a romantic past, that her heart had been broken. She seemed so sad, and alone.
"Eventually, the rain stopped, and our coffee was done. The princess stood, and said good-bye to me. As she was walking away, I saw that she was still limping, that it looked worse than when she had first sat down.
"I offered to walk her home, said I was going that way, and would she like some help. She accepted. Fortunately, it wasn't far to her place, but there were so many stairs that I insisted on helping her right up to her little apartment.
"It was small, and a little dingy, but the view of Rome was beautiful. The Princess left me for a minute to change into dry clothes. I was looking out on the view when I almost knocked something off a little table by the terrace.
"I caught it before it fell, which was good, because it looked very valuable. It was a very strange thing: a silver chalice with carvings of angels and demons fighting. A chalice is a cup," she interrupted the story to explain to her perplexed-looking granddaughter.
"Why not just call it a cup, then?" she asked.
"Because if it's a chalice, then it's art," was the explanation.
"What did you do with the cup?"
"I put it back where it belonged," she replied as if it were obvious. "The princess returned just as I was putting it back, and told me it was one of the only things she'd been able to take with her when she ran from St. Petersburg. It wasn't very valuable, actually, it was quite ugly, but precious to her for sentimental reasons.
'We talked a little more, but she became tired, and I felt I should go. She convinced me to come and visit her again, but it was the end of my time in Rome, I was leaving a few days later. She seemed sad, but thanked me for helping her.
"As I was leaving, she stopped me. She was holding this scarf, the colours were brighter then, and said that she wanted me to take it. She said that a friend of her family had given it to her when she was my age, and she wanted to pass it along to me.
"I didn't think I should take it, but she insisted, and eventually I gave in. I've kept it with me all this time, I even wore it when I left on my honeymoon with your grandfather."
"Oh," Sara said. The scarf was still held by both of them. Sara let go of it almost reluctantly. "It's very pretty."
"I'm glad you think so," her grandmother said. "When you're a little older, I'll give it to you, and you can wear it for special occasions, like your wedding. Then, when the time comes, you will give it to someone who you think deserves it."
"Really? Thank you Mémé!" she cried, throwing her arms around her grandmother once more.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2005-02-09 05:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-09 06:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-02-10 07:06 am (UTC)So nice!! Damn I wish I was a creative writerly type!