Bess Shaddeau (myhauntedhead) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2014-03-11 01:17:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2009-10-04, bess, danielle |
I'm haunted by the lives that wove the web
Who: Bess & Danielle
Where: Camelot Place
When: Afternoon
You were not supposed to skate in the lobby. Bess knew this. Accidents could happen and people could get hurt and it would be all sorts of bad. Worse, even, if it was her who caused it. But she wasn’t allowed to leave the apartment building. So she’d gone all the way down to the lobby with her skates in one hand, with just her socks on her feet to ask the Guy Down There for extra special permission. There were not that many people who could hold up to the little psychic’s pleading when she really wanted something -- which did not happen much anyway -- and a matter of minutes later she had finished lacing up her boots and was testing to see if she’d laced them evenly. It was weird how the one you tied up first always felt less tight than the other. Circling the room slowly, she fidgeted with her bracelets, mixing them up so each wrist was just the right amount of colourful. Like the wheels of her skates. It had been a while since they’d all gone skating... Which was where she started to get a little lost in her thoughts. Maybe next time they went they could take Keelin too. Did they have to take her sister? She looked like she might be very pregnant and she also seemed kind of mean -- an observation she had made more from the contents of her head than anything she said. Also she never said thank you for saving the mouse from Tiger.
Blissfully ignorant of both her current speed and the fact she was about to skate into a neighbour (oh, and there was a trail of someone’s junk mail following behind her in a telekinetic wave), Bess gave a surprised squeak as that thin-lipped old lady from the floor above came into her line of sight and immediately maneuvered around her. Questions about her father were deflected easily -- or rather, given non-answers -- while she continued to skate, her eyes to the ground. She flew around the room a few more times, only coming to a definite stop in the middle when she was pretty sure that the sneakers she was looking down at belonged to a ghost and she may have just skated part way through them. She was pretty sure mediums were supposed to know better than that.
Propelling herself backwards a little way, Bess squinted up sheepishly. “Sorry.”