Thalia (amusing_muse) wrote in nevermore_logs, @ 2021-02-22 17:54:00 |
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Entry tags: | clio, thalia, will stutely |
WHO Thalia, Clio and Will Stutely
WHEN Monday, 22 February, late afternoon
WHERE Clio’s house
WHAT Cake and catch-ups
WARNINGS TBA, probably recounting some trauma
Thalia had driven fifty hours in the last seven days, six of them since waking up this morning. She hadn’t slept in a proper bed in a week, and all her stuff was either in storage or on the floor of her apartment in boxes. An hour ago, she’d been ready to pass out on the carpet beside them. But then she’d tapped out a message on her phone and one after the other her sisters had responded – her sisters, here, in the same city! with so much news and stories and boyfriends and babies! – and by the time Clio had invited her over, Thalia had caught her second wind. There had been an undercurrent of something else in those messages – the way Clio had dodged when Thalia had asked how she was, and then Melpomene had gotten snappish at what Thalia had only meant as friendly teasing and oh no was she messing up already?! – but Thalia had thrust those thoughts to one side, determined to focus on the positives today. She was home! In New York! She had sisters to hug and nieces to spoil and comedy rooms to slay and nothing was going to go wrong! As promised, she’d come bearing gifts: for Ella, an animatronic bigfoot she hadn’t been able to resist picking up at a delightfully earnest sasquatch museum in Cali; and for Clio, a salted caramel vanilla cake she’d picked up at a bakery by her apartment. The words frosted on the top read Hi Clio☺. The brownstone was just as she remembered it, from the outside at least. Balancing her two boxes, Thalia climbed the steps and knocked. |