Re: [jude & hannah: tea]
Hannah didn't know cons. She knew bad things, bad men, bad corporations, but she didn't know cons. She had nothing to take, nothing of value but herself and the secrets she guarded so closely. She was open, open, open as doors thrown wide to a summer breeze, but there were certain things she wouldn't ever tell. Hannah didn't know cons, but maybe she understood the danger more than a little. She was still an open thing sitting there and entirely unaware of his inner conflict with that inner voice.
"Are these ghosts weeping at the graveside, or are they descendants? I think it matters a little bit which the answer is. And I'm not really sure about that epitaph. I hope your eulogy is better," she teased, bright eyes and playfulness that was very reminiscent of a stitchery girl hiding and seeking adventure, and all at once.
Storytime continued with tea sipped to nothing and the cup pushed away daintily before chin returned to cupped hands. "Oh, that's a terrible story so far," she said midway, pouting at the storyteller. "Maybe little girls shouldn't have so much power until they're much older than little girls," she suggested, and the story went on and on, and Hannah sat back and tipped her head with ear to shoulder and copper cascading irreverently. "I think going back and back must be terrible for a child. What happened when time ran out? Did she die? Because I don't like the story at all if she dies. Or, worse! If she's all alone with nothing but specks in the universe and loneliness."
She shook her head defiantly. "No. You have to fix it. Tick tock."