Fable Morrison (always_love) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2013-02-07 13:21:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-09-24, fable, zachary |
There's so much to say, but no words to convey
Who: Fable and Zachary
Where: Outside Bargain Books to start
When: Late morning
By Fable's standards, it was starting to get cold. Nothing she hadn't dealt with in California, thankfully, but still, colder than she'd like. The leaves changing color were certainly pretty, but they were a reminder of the coming winter and how utterly unprepared for it she was. Her mother-in-law had joked about buying several winter coats for her and Ziggy both, but Fable was looking forward to that about as much as she wanted to shovel snow or, worse, drive in the stuff. She'd adapt, but it would take her some time. If only Tim was still here, she wouldn't have moved out here, she'd still be home. And he'd be home by now, too. Home to see his wife and the beautiful little girl they'd made together.
If she stayed in the house much longer, she'd only dwell on those thoughts, on her own loneliness, and Ainsley deserved better than that. So, throwing on a jacket, she packed up anything she might need, and out the door the two of them went. Rather than take a stroller, or keep Ainsley in her car seat, she had the baby in a carrier strapped to her torso instead. Ainsley seemed to like this situation better, kicking her legs as they walked, looking around and cooing at anything that caught her attention. So long as the baby was happy, and didn't see anything that would force her to shift and try to chase it, Fable considered this a win-win situation.
Soon enough, they ended up outside of Bargain Books, and the scarlet oak tree that had grown up through the center of the building. How something like that could have appeared overnight, she had no idea - but the earth elemental in her knew that it was alive, and thriving. Just one more thing going on since May that no one could really explain, it seemed. She was about to keep walking on when Ainsley stirred in her carrier, shrieking and flailing her hands around. "What is it, sweetheart?" Fable asked, brushing a hand over what little hair Ainsley had on her forehead. Obviously the baby had seen or sensed something, but what, Fable had no idea.