Screaming loud enough to turn back the wind. (![[personal profile]](http://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small} whatawaytoburn) wrote, |
I realized I stopped babbling at the top of these. I want to go back to doing that. id on't know why. I like babbling a little. Not that I have much to say about this other than Friday and Saturday would have the prettiest, strangest little home ever. I can see it in my head, the framed holes and patterned glass. It's pretty and a little odd and lovely all at once.
Even though they didn't want to, they let Friday and Saturday have their own house.
It worried the others, it really did. Monday didn't want to do it at all but Thursday and Sunday convinced her. They said it would be good for them, that it would put some responsibility on their shoulders and that might help a little.
Monday was not convinced but went with it anyway.
They pick a rundown little thing, a broken house for broken people. Sunday 8isn't surprised and Thursday just shakes her head. Wednesday passes silent judgement, noting the flaws but not saying a word. Tuesday bites her lip, looking at the holes in the wall and cracks in the floor but she tries to not say anything.
Friday and Saturday love it.
They fix it but in their own way. They put frames around the holes and paint it bright colors. They decorate it with more cracks and with shattered glass glued to the walls. Friday has a collection of broken bottles she puts on a shelf and Saturday cuts herself and smears her blood into the floor, making the house truly hers.
The others don't say anything, just let them do what they want, keeping an eye on them, making sure nothing too dangerous happens.
After a while, they stop decorating, they settle in and call it home. It's strange and beautful in it's way, at least to them. It feels like a part of them and Saturday talks to the house, as if it--she, to them-- can hear her. Friday doesn't talk to the house but sometimes she can be caught praying quietly to it.\
None of the others are sure if it was a good idea, not really but they have a place to live, a plae to call theirs and maybe, just maybe it will give them some stability. Maybe it will quiet the strangeness in Saturday's mind or keep Friday from having that last drink. They don't know, they can only hope.
Even though they didn't want to, they let Friday and Saturday have their own house.
It worried the others, it really did. Monday didn't want to do it at all but Thursday and Sunday convinced her. They said it would be good for them, that it would put some responsibility on their shoulders and that might help a little.
Monday was not convinced but went with it anyway.
They pick a rundown little thing, a broken house for broken people. Sunday 8isn't surprised and Thursday just shakes her head. Wednesday passes silent judgement, noting the flaws but not saying a word. Tuesday bites her lip, looking at the holes in the wall and cracks in the floor but she tries to not say anything.
Friday and Saturday love it.
They fix it but in their own way. They put frames around the holes and paint it bright colors. They decorate it with more cracks and with shattered glass glued to the walls. Friday has a collection of broken bottles she puts on a shelf and Saturday cuts herself and smears her blood into the floor, making the house truly hers.
The others don't say anything, just let them do what they want, keeping an eye on them, making sure nothing too dangerous happens.
After a while, they stop decorating, they settle in and call it home. It's strange and beautful in it's way, at least to them. It feels like a part of them and Saturday talks to the house, as if it--she, to them-- can hear her. Friday doesn't talk to the house but sometimes she can be caught praying quietly to it.\
None of the others are sure if it was a good idea, not really but they have a place to live, a plae to call theirs and maybe, just maybe it will give them some stability. Maybe it will quiet the strangeness in Saturday's mind or keep Friday from having that last drink. They don't know, they can only hope.
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