|Cordelia Alcott // Athena (_athena) wrote in greek_swim,|
@ 2008-12-06 00:09:00
|Entry tags:||anteros, athena|
Athena/Cordelia and Anteros/Linus: Tomb By The Sounding Sea
who. Athena/Cordelia and Anteros/Linus
when. Evening of December 5th.
where. The bookstore Cordelia works at in Thission.
what. A debate/conversation about love.
rating. I seriously doubt this will go over PG. Maybe PG-13 if there's some language, but it's worksafe.
Old Althea Halkias had gone home for the evening, leaving Cordelia in charge of the bookstore. It was kind of a relief to have the old lady who ran the store gone, since she really did like to tell Cordelia how much she "reminded her of herself" back when she was young. That would not have been so terrible if Althea was not a sixty-five year old spinster lady who thought it fashionable to wear a purple hat and leopard-print pants, and had just gone home because it was time for her to bathe her cat and sing to her parrot.
The bookstore was small, and not exactly in the centre of town. In fact, it was quite amazing that thy managed to pull in any business at all, let alone that Althea had been running it for twenty-eight years. Cordelia was half-tempted to pack up and go home early, but then she would have felt guilty for being dishonest. So, instead she got up and wandered around the store in search of some book to pass the time. At least here she had time alone with books, so it was well worth it.
She perused the rows of books, looking for something that seemed interesting to her. There was always something that seemed interesting to her: Cordelia seemed to be under the impression that there was something to learn from every word ever written, and so it was her task to read them all. But still, she stopped off in her regular section, as no matter what she wanted to read, she always had to check out the essentials of William Shakespeare, Edgar Allen Poe, and Oscar Wilde first. Today's choice was a large leather-bound anthology of the works to Edgar Allen Poe. As usual, she flipped first to the poem Annabel Lee. She was never able to think of any reason in the world why she loved that poem so much, but it effected her every time she read it.