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moonlights-inkwell · 4 years

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Oh, Can’t You Hear The Scratching?

Jaskier x Reader

Word Count: 4747

Summary: A serious injury leads to you being forced to leave your travelling days behind you and try to reintergrate yourself into a life you left behind. But it seems something from travelling has decided not to leave you

A/N: So. Um. This was meant to be some post Mountain smut, but turned into some semi-angst and is probably gonna turn into a series (and kinda (?) a companion piece to my Oxenfurt Series) where Jaskier and the Reader just sorta embrace some domestic bliss. So yeah. Title taken from That Unwanted Animal.

The first chill of Autumn is enough to wake you from a dead slumber. The cold nips at the tip of your nose, leaving it almost painful and chaffed, and you curse internally at the windows of your small home, which lately has done little to keep out either rain or cold. Pushing yourself up from the warmth of your fur-lined bed, you sit up and wince when the chill hits your chest, causing you to heave out a sigh as if you had been punched, blinking bleary-eyed before turning to gaze out of your window. It’s still dark, but no longer pitch. The sky is the colour of the violets that grow along the path that leads to your cottage but paling slowly, no sight of sun or moon, cloud or stars. Soon the horizon will be warmed by the orange glow of the sun, but right now you find yourself in this blissful timelessness, caught between dusk and dawn, sleep and awake. Moments like this feel rare, special, and you dedicate them to memory, to remind yourself of the mundane beauty of the world when you feel lonely and upset. These moments are wonderful, and your lips turn up in a tired smile.

Sleep is trying desperately to overtake you once more, begging you sweetly to rest as long as humanly possible- after hard nights working in the tavern, you deserve rest and respite, but you fight against it. Swinging your legs out of bed and standing up, you groan in annoyance.

“Melitele��s tits.” You curse, slurring with sleep. Padding barefoot to the window, you lean against the wall and rub your eyes, toying with the thin fabric that hangs to the side of the windows. It’s much too early in the day, and much too early for you to be feeling this way. This feeling only normally comes with Winter but reminds you all too much of the day you met Jaskier. It was as if fate had insisted you to be ready for him. Your heart sinks at the thought of him.

You left the Witcher and your Bard behind in the spring. It wasn’t an easy choice, or even really a choice that you made, but it was the only one that was given to you. It came as a result of fighting a Wyvern. You hate Wyverns, always have and always will, but the fight against this one had cemented that in your mind, seeing as it sunk its claws into the left side of your face, and nearly blinded you. You didn’t even really know what damage it had caused until you sunk, faint, to your knees and Jaskier screeched in horror at the sight of you. I'm not that ugly, am I? You thought to yourself and chuckled slightly before falling unconscious.

You woke in a healer’s tent, barely able to comprehend spoken language as the medic told Geralt you were lucky to be alive, never mind retaining the vision in both eyes. Something in the back of your mind told you that you should be in pain, excruciating pain, but you can’t feel a thing. Your face would likely keep the marks of the beast forever though, he told the Witcher, voice as emotionless as possible. The hand holding your own tightens its grip. Jaskier. You smiled and cracked open the uninjured eye, but the smile faded at the sight of his red, tearstained face. He looked like he had been sobbing, and he probably had. He fretted about you when you got splinters, so the idea that you could have died was too much for him. He glanced down at you, and upon seeing your open eyes cupped your face gently and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. It’s like no kiss he’d given before, it’s full of something you haven’t felt from him, sadness. Regret. It feels like goodbye. When he pulls back his lips and chin are stained with your blood.

“I’ll find you in winter.” He muttered and your eyes narrowed in confusion. Tears overtook him once more, and he dragged you into his lap to sob onto your bloodied blouse- he'd never been squeamish about blood before, but in that moment, it was as if he was trying to get as much of your blood on him as possible, to mar and mark himself with proof that he was yours. Your fingers threaded through his hair, but whatever the Healer had given you meant that you couldn’t feel the softness of the chestnut locks, smell the musk and lavender scent that you know permeates from him over the coppery blood. It's hollow. You can’t feel him at all and would have taken the agonising pain of the wound if it meant that you could feel the touch of his skin on yours.

“Till winter.”

It was goodbye. At least for the time being.

Geralt took you home on Roach the next day, and insisted you remain. Retune yourself back to the life in your village, rather than a life that will kill you at any and every turn. He said it so firmly you couldn’t force out an argument, and so you’ve remained since that day; remaining in the old home you resided in just outside of the village, returning to your job in the tavern, and trying in vain to pretend that you aren’t in pain, not spending your days missing your bard, counting down until the seasons change and Geralt will return to Kaer Morhen and you can feel a dandelion on your skin once more.

Absent-mindedly, you drag the tips of your fingers over the fading scar over your eye, it’s no longer garishly red and surrounded by mottled green, yellow and blueing bruised skin, instead almost white, with a strange shining quality about it. You don’t hate it, but you hate what it represents. Weakness. You found scars wonderful as a child, proof of how adventures had marked you, even on the road with Geralt it had been something of note, proof of how no monster had felled you yet. This one has felled you, left you more than just marked. It’s a conversation starter with patrons at the pub though, it sees you regaling people with your tales of traveling with a Witcher, and sees the pockets of your pinny grow heavy with coin as the nights draw to days, but the song starts up and you feel your throat begin to swell closed, lips suddenly wordless and eyes swelling with tears. Toss a Coin to Your Witcher is capable of reducing you to tears, your Dandelion would be proud were it under different circumstances. You miss him like a lost limb. After so long around him, always touching, always grinning, always talking, the absence makes you uncomfortable, especially at night.

Jaskier had always been there at night, oh what the luxury of your travelling partner being your lover had been during nights on the road. The sound of him singing in the darkness, illuminated only by the firelight and framed by the canopy of the trees, as if on a stage and performing for an audience of only you, how it felt when he dragged you, often kicking and squealing in laughter, towards your shared bedroll. While you are glad of a permanent bed, you miss sleeping beside him. It feels childish to admit that you find it hard to sleep without him, even if you are only admitting to yourself, but it is difficult without him; you miss the feeling of his arms around your waist, head between your shoulders and breath fanning against your skin, lulling you to sleep. Not only that, but you miss the sweetness that comes before sleep, tiredly resting on his chest and listening to him talk- usually utter nonsense you care little for, but enamoured by his passion and way of speaking- or singing, ringed fingers burying themselves in your hair while your fingers thread through the Shag Rug of chest hair.

The shadow that passes by the window doesn’t catch your eye, distracted too much by memory, and you turn tiredly back toward bed but stop. Bed will do nothing but remind you of the chill behind you, lack of arms about your waist and head resting in the hollow between your shoulder blades. That won’t do. Instead, you find yourself padding to the small room that keeps the hearth, lip trapped between gnawing teeth as you begin a search for a means to light the fire and warm yourself a serving of last night’s stew but stop. Scratching. Scratching. Something is scratching at the front door. That’s not normal. All your life there has never been scratching at the door, even in spite of its close proximity to the woods no creature normally drags their claws along the wood, save for once, when a wolf had found itself lost and confused, but even that had been a pup. Just Imagining things, you try in vain to convince yourself, hand falling onto the matches and drawing a sigh of relief from you. It takes a second or so for your hands to stop shaking, but when the scratching dies you manage to strike a match and start a fire beneath the hanging pot of stew. Warmth, at long last, and light too.

You sit on the floor to warm yourself in front of the hearth, humming softly along with the phantom of a song you hear in your dreams. It’s not one you know too well, you don’t even know if the song has lyrics, but it's one of Jaskier's and that means it’s your favourite. Tears that threaten to fall blur your vision and in the glowing flames you almost swear you can see him, sat across from you.

It’s familiar, hauntingly so. You can all but feel the hard stone beneath your feet turn to prickly, drying grass, your sleep shirt turning to almost threadbare chemise and trousers. You can even feel the bruising ribs from an especially rough incident with a werewolf that saw the Witcher walking to a nearby village for food to help you feel better. The flames in front of you ripple and roar, causing the wood to pop and crackle, and with each noise you jump slightly and flinch in pain. Jaskier sits across from you, staring at you intensely and strumming at his lute. He’s beautiful in the light of the fire, lashes dark and his eyes focused, taking in every flinch and jostle.

“Try not to move so, Little Miss. You'll only hurt yourself. Well. Hurt yourself more.” He's trying to sound unaffected, but the intensity of his gaze betrays him. You worried him; a skill you’ve been honing in your time with Geralt and him, and you know how he worries. He's more of a mother-hen than a fighter in the first place, flapping about and acting as if you’re some delicate flower in polite society rather than someone who enjoys being combative, but combined with your human fragility? He frets. Overwhelmingly so. His eyes, the colour of the sea after a storm, moves from your eyes to where he knows your injury to be and then back to your eyes once more. You can’t quite meet his eyes, distracting yourself by looking over the intricate ivory embroidery that decorates his doublet.

You hate worrying him. He’s been so kind to you, always so giving: making sure you have enough stew to eat, warm enough when autumn comes about, threatening any man who looks at you with anything less than respect. He knows how you revel in fighting, but each and every injury you get sees the bard fretting even more so than normal. Though you can't meet his gaze you can feel his eyes on you, and hear the soft melody he's plucking, which makes you shift on the spot, letting out a pained moan as you do. Focused on the searing pain in your ribs, you don’t quite hear the bard gasp out your name and rush to your side, only knowing he's even there when you feel a warm palm rest on your thigh and turn to see him on his knees in front of you.

“Fucking hell, Little Miss, are you alright? Do you need something? Shit... I- I can try and fetch Geralt, he won’t be too far-" The brunet rambles, eyes wide and grip on your thigh tightening, which serves to make your breath hitch- but not from the pain. Jaskier is always touching you, you’re quite certain he was not given sufficient human contact as a child, but never has he touched somewhere as... intimate as your thigh. The heat of his hand seeps through your trousers, and goes straight to your core and face- cheeks bright pink. He's still rambling, you realise, and reach out gently to cup his cheek, silencing him immediately. Stubble you can’t see on his boyish face prickles your palm, and you meet his eyes once more, noticing how wide the pitch of his eyes had grown.

“I’m fine, Dandelion. Truly. Just moved too fast... bruises, and such.” You laugh weakly, tilting your head. “It will pass. Just need to distract myself.”

He laughs with you, hand squeezing the meat of your thigh and so close you can feel his breath fanning against your skin.

“I can distract you if you like?” He offers, voice lower than normal. You smile in return and nod, expecting a song or joke but what you get instead is his lips pressed against yours. Warm, wind chapped, perfect-

A log pops and you come from your memory, blinking and sniffing as the smell of the soup makes you smile. It’s not much, but it’s enough. Before you can reach up for a spoon to mix it, you hear it again. The scratching. It's back, and worrying. You miss Geralt, not for the first time that night, missing how his acute hearing would be able to tell you if it was an animal or human- specifically if it was a wolf as you suspected. Scratching, scratching and scratching. It worries you, but not enough for you to become fearful; instead making you smirk, eyes narrowing into dangerous slits and shifting towards the sword you've kept beside the door. Less than a second later you dart toward the door, and grip the cold hilt of the blade in one hand, body pressed against the wall beside the door. The scratching stops when you move which only makes you hold your breath, eyes slipping shut as you try to relax once more. Calm doesn’t come, and instead you heave out a sigh and call out,

“...Hello? Kacsper? Is that you?” It wouldn’t be the first time your employer had come by in the night to ensure a young woman alone would be safe at night, which you thought to be immensely invasive but, in this moment, you cannot stop yourself from hoping it was him.

“...Dear Heart?” A voice you didn’t expect at all replies, weak and choked. Jaskier. Only Jaskier has ever called you anything like Dear Heart, the only person to ever even think to call you by pet names, but not in that voice. Pained, like he was injured. Something logical in the back of your mind tries to remind you of Dopplers or any number of creatures that can change their voices, but the sound of your lover’s voice is enough to see you throw caution to the wind. You drop the blade to rip the door open, completely unfazed by the ear-splitting clatter of steel on wood. The door is open before you realise how forcefully you pull and there, shivering in the autumnal cold, is your bard.

It’s hard to tell in the minimal light of your cooking fire, but he looks a mess. Chestnut hair splayed across his forehead in wet clumps, from rain or sweat you have no idea, deep red doublet and trousers stained with something that could be either mud or blood, and eyes sunken and darkened from a lack of sleep and something else. A sort of... hunger, longing that you know, but not in this intensity- he would look at you like this before kissing you, or bedding you, like you were ephemeral and easily gone without his touch. His frame lurches, holding to the door frame for stability.

“Jask?” You whisper, and it’s enough for him to surge forward and crash his mouth to yours. The look in his eyes mirrors how he kisses you, hungry and rough, cracked lips moving against your own in such a way that you almost fear the blood you can taste is your own, but it’s definitely not. You feel like you ought push him away, chide him for coming so late and frightening you, but instead your arms wind around his neck to pull him closer still, lips moving gently against his, trying to slow the kiss. It’s been so long, too long, without his lips on yours, months without his touch when you would seldom live an hour without his touch. He takes the hint and the kiss instead turns sweet though still desperate, his hands resting on your hips even after you pull back and stare up at him like he’s a phantom or dream. “Jaskier, what are you doing here?”

“...I missed you.” He says simply, voice cracking and breaking your heart at just how sad he sounds. “I. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to intrude, Little Miss. I should-"

“Shut the door, Buttercup.” You interrupt him, hands sliding from his throat to hold his cheek. “And sit down. You look dead on your feet. Where's Ger?”

Jaskier flinches at the mention of the white-haired man but does turn to close your front door. As soon as it’s closed, keeping the cold somewhat at bay, his arms are around you once more and face buried into your hair, drawing a contented sigh from you while your own arms work their way around his back. It’s been far too long. He feels like he always has, soft but with a firm layer of muscle just beneath, not obvious by looking at him, but there none the less. Hugs have always felt restrictive, like being caged but his have always felt like safety. It’s the same now, just more tight, and you cannot tell if he knows how tightly he’s holding you. Honestly, you can’t bring yourself to care. He could leave a Jaskier shaped bruise on your flesh so long as he robs you of the Jaskier shaped hole in your heart. He doesn’t smell as usual though, lavender and musk replaced with sweat and sulphur, telling you just how long it must have been since last he bathed.

Deft fingers wind into the wispy hair at your nape at the same time that lips press to the crown of your head, followed by a deep inhale, you aren’t the only one to have missed the simple things like this. So much is hidden away in touch and smell, especially when not too long ago the two of you spent near every moment joined at the hip.

“You smell like posies.” He mumbles into your hair, and you smile weakly at the observation.

“You smell like death, Darling.” You reply before you really consider how mean the words are, though you hope your voice is playful. “I'll draw you a bath-"

“No, no, no. Don’t... don't move, Muse. Let me... Let me cherish this moment. Reunions are supposed to be a happy time.” He doesn’t sound happy; he sounds as if he's choking back tears. “Gods, how I’ve missed you, Dear Heart.”

“I missed you too, Buttercup. Like a lost limb.” It should seem a melodramatic turn of phrase, but it truly isn’t. It was like losing half of yourself to be away from him. Having him wrapped around you now is the closest to normal you’ve felt since leaving his side. “...Why are you here though, Love? Oughtn't you be with Ger-"

“Don’t say his name.” The usually sweet voice of your bard comes out venomous, and his grip only tightens, “I’m not travelling with the prick.”

The Prick. That’s new. So many of Jaskier’s songs are about the Witcher, but now he's the prick. You can’t help but blink in confusion, head tilting to look at your man but he instead swoops his head down to kiss you gently. He's trying to distract you, of that you're certain, but you decide it best to indulge him, kissing him sweetly and pulling back before he can deepen it.

“...Stew.”

It’s his turn to look confused, head tilted to one side to stare at you while you pull away.

“Stew?”

“Do you want some?” Gesturing blindly to the pot behind you, you begrudgingly break free of his hold on you. “You look hungry. Stew, a bath and then bed. I think it would do you the world of good.”

“When did you become a domestic goddess, Little Miss?” He asks incredulously, lips turning up in a smile. He’s taunting you, but you don’t care as long as he stays smiling. “My Little Miss would sooner skin a deer with her teeth than cook.”

“You can thank my mother for that. Old habits die hard, even if they are ones to make me a perfect wife.”

“You’re a perfect wife already.” He says with a degree of finality in his statement, sitting by the fire. He makes it sound like you are his wife, and the thought brings a blush to your cheeks. “Are you going to join me?”

“I need to get bowls for the stew.”

“I mean in the bath.” He shoots a wink in your direction that you suppose is meant to be flirty, but on this defeated looking Jaskier it comes across more pathetic than anything else. Had you been asked an hour before, you would have moved heaven and hell for a chance to be in your miniscule bath with the Bard, using bathing as a preamble to ride him until your brain and legs turn to jelly and there's more water out of the bath than in it, but this Jaskier needs a gentle hand, and a helping hand to remove the layer of grime and melancholy that is covering his entire being. “You... You don’t have to. I. I'm being presumptuous, aren’t I?”

“How?” You ask weakly, descending to your knees at the bard's side. “It's hardly the first time you've asked to see me unclothed.”

“It’s been months. You probably have a new lover. I mean, look at you, how could you not?” He asks, gesturing to your body as if it was supposed to mean something to you. “You look like a gift from on high, and I... I left you here. To grow soft, and gentle and domestic.” His hand rests on your thigh but there’s nothing romantic in the touch, just longing. Like, despite his hand on your bard flesh, you're in fact a thousand miles away or he's lamenting to the spectre of a lost love. “Someone else has snapped you up, and I’ve lost you, and come here, and you’re too polite to say no.”

“We both know I would never be made to do anything I don’t want.” You smile, and lean in to press a chaste kiss to his lips. He chuckles softly, and watches you as you ladle some stew into a bowl and hand it to him. “And I don’t. Have anyone else.”

“You said a man's name when I was at the door.”

“My employer. He’s... odd. Constantly sniffing about.” You reassure him, watching him spoon up some of the both and sip it before sighing, from the taste or reassured that you love him still. “If I didn’t want you, I’d have stabbed you.”

“You. You waited.” It’s a statement, and you nod simply in agreement.

“You said you'd come in winter.” His eyes focus on you once more, drinking you in like it is both the first and last time he shall see you.

“You look like you did the night we first met.” He says conversationally, and you smile, remembering how he had winked at you mid song. It feels a hundred years ago, though you know it couldn’t be more than six years ago. “I thought you were the most sublime creature on the planet. There’s not an ounce of feral in you, just... beauty and softness, with something wild behind the eyes.” He says soft like it’s a thing to be admired, not disparaged. His eyes, stormy blue and sad look about your childhood home with nostalgia for a time that you don’t know. “You look like a life worth living, Dear Heart.”

“...A life worth living?”

“Yes. This. This you, all gentle and half asleep, looking at me like you love me. A little home and a fire, Darling Love telling me to eat and bathe and sleep. Domestic. A life worth living.”

“I do love you Jaskier.” You interrupt, letting the words fall off your tongue like they’re the easiest thing in the world to say. They feel that way.

“You shouldn’t. I left you here.” The words come out hollow, and you take his hand from your thigh to your lips and kiss it. You can all but see the knotted weaves and threads of his mind, and hope the kiss will soothe them, even a little. His hand tugs free for a moment to ghost his fingers along the scar on your face, making you shiver.

“I was hurt.”

“I should have stayed. Should have stayed by your side.”

“You’re here now, Julian. That’s enough.” It shouldn’t be, but it is. He's here, not exactly as you’d like him to be, but having him beside you is more than enough. The comforting presence of warmth beside you is more than enough to wipe away the months of absence.

He sighs your name like a prayer, “I love you.”

“As you should.” You tease, and he places the bowl beside him to take your hands in his, prompting you to give up all pretence of propriety to instead climb onto his lap, intertwined fingers bridging the gap between your bodies. “You’re upset.”

“At the sight of the love of my life looking like a perfect little wife in an empty home.” Obtuse Jaskier might just be your least favourite form of the Bard, him trying to mask feelings he wears so openly, like he thinks you a fool. You’re unwilling to pry, though, so bite your tongue. “I’m half convinced I died on that mountain, and you’re just what my mind has created as a dying thought.”

“Shush.” You coo, lips chastely brushing against his. “You're as alive as I am, keep the melancholies out of it. If I look like some... darling bride then be quiet, seeing as that would make you a very foolish husband to spend your night bemoaning your fears and not kissing me.”

He chuckles at that, a small triumph, but enough to fill your heart to bursting point.

“I’d be a fool for leaving you here alone.” He starts but a sharp noise of annoyance cuts him off.

“Stay forever to make up for it, then.” You retort, “Sleep next to me until I can’t remember a single morning without you.”

He blinks at that, enrapturing you in how the black of his eyes swells until you cannot see any of the blue.

“You want me to stay?”

“For always.”

He grins, almost wide enough to distract from the tears that well in his eyes and you lean in to kiss him once more, his hands settling on your hips to pull you closer still. You've missed this, the stupidity that fills your head when his lips are on yours, tongue gently trailing along the seam of your mouth, never invasive, just inquisitive.

“You truly do need a bath though.” You grumble against his mouth, Jaskier pulls back in mock indignation.

“I know you don’t actually mean that and just want to undress me.”

“Oh, shut up, Dandelion.”

His hands turn from cradling to tickling, sending you into reams of laughter that he echoes. All, for just a moment, feels right in the world, now that he's with you again.

#jaskier imagine #jaskier x reader #jaskier x you #jaskier x y/n

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write-place-write-time · 5 years

Text

Found It

[ Can be read as a sequel/companion to "Lost It", or as a standalone ]

🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵

“Bit busy, mate.”

“Baker Street. Come at once.”

“Sherlock, I’m trying to -- No, Rosie, no biting! -- change Miss Nibs here--”

“Bring her along. I need you both.”

“For what?!”

Click.

John Watson pulled the mobile away from his ear with a resigned glare. Young Rosie babbled and grabbed at it, wriggling herself out of the 18 month frock he’d just wrestled her into. John turned his glare to his daughter, who giggled at him unashamedly.

“Between you and your godfather, nudity is trending at an all time high,” he grumbled, though there was no heat in it.

****

Upon arriving at 221b, the Watsons were met with a perturbed Mrs. Hudson, dashing out the door with her brolly and handbag.

“That boy is a menace, I tell you,” she said in between cooing at Rosie. “Got himself all aflutter and refuses to tell me why.”

John frowned at that. “Aflutter? Is he…?”

“He’s clean, of course, but he’s also cleaning. Sherlock Holmes, cleaning the flat!” She tutted, striding off towards a cab. “Good luck, you two!”

John and Rosie shared a look, making their way in and up to the flat.

The faint scent of lemon cleaner and fresh sugar biscuits wafted down the stairs as the Watsons entered their home away from home. The flat was clean. No sign of newspapers, weaponry, abandoned teacups, nor assorted baby-care items strewn about the space. Any paraphernalia of Rosie’s was organized in a designated area that John was impressed to find both conveniently out of the way and visible from all angles of the living room.

The yellow chair from the corner was positioned across from his, angled in companionship with Sherlock’s own. There was a soft, cherry red afghan that John had never seen before draped over the back. The mirror above the mantle was clear of any chemical residue or hand-swipes (from clearing off residue to use the mirror for its intended function); even Billy the skull looked especially clean, as though the teeth had been brushed. The bison skull was free of dust, and the headphones had been replaced by a -- “Flower crown?”

“John, Rosamund, hello!”

John turned from the baffling sight of the bison and its floral corona to where Sherlock’s voice had sounded behind him in the kitchen, and his jaw dropped.

The consulting detective stood barefoot in jeans -- jeans -- a button-up white shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, purple dish-washing gloves, and a flour-powdered green tartan pinny. John gaped, trying to gather and understand the sight before him.

“Lock!” Rosie squirmed until her confused father set her down.

“Yes, hello, Rosie,” Sherlock grinned down at her, shucking his garish gloves and tucking them in the pinafore pocket before reaching out to assist the toddler in her steps toward him. “Your father’s gone quite fish-faced, hasn’t he?”

“And your godfather has gone domestic,” John shot back, fighting a grin. “What’s all this then? Have you finally had one-too-many nicotine patches? Therapist electro-shock you?”

Sherlock rolled his eyes as he scooped the girl up and brushed a kiss to her chubby cheek. “Shut up, you’re late.”

“Yes well, little Nudist Nancy refused to cooperate with her wardrobe. What’s the urgent business then?”

“I want to have sex with Molly Hooper.”

John sputtered, “Oi! Tiny ears, Sherlock!”

Sherlock rolled his eyes, but his retort was cut off by John’s second sputter of, “Why the hell do you think Rosie -- a toddler, mind you -- and I would be able to help you with that?”

Sherlock maintained his same passive look, but the creeping pink tinge on his ears gave John insight to his friend’s nerves. “Well, seeing as you have experience -- three continents, was it? -- and the proof of said experience is currently chewing my apron strings, who else would I call upon for aid in such a matter?”

John blinked. “Irene Adler. Your mum. Mycro--”

“Please don’t mention my brother in this context lest I subject myself to eternal celibacy,” Sherlock grimaced. “The Woman is not a wise decision, as it would be ‘not good’ to consult a lesbian dominatrix in love with me about intimacy with another woman. Mummy is right out. She explained the whole ordeal when I was twelve and made Father blush so hard I think he still looks sunburnt. No, it has to be you, John Watson.”

He grinned and made his way back to the kitchen, setting Rosie in her high chair with a freshly baked and cooled biscuit that she immediately set her eight new teeth into. John followed, still baffled.

“Does Molly know you want to… y’know?”

Sherlock shot him an annoyed look.

“Fine,” John capitulated. “Does Molly know you wanna get off with her?”

Those ears grew pinker as Sherlock busied himself with washing the baking materials like a normal adult human. “I don’t suppose how she’d know. She hasn’t asked.”

“She hasn’t asked? Christ, Sherlock. You two have been dating though, right? Coffee two weeks ago, dinner at Angelo’s last Friday?”

“Yes.”

“Did you by any chance, oh I dunno, kiss her goodnight?”

Ears were now pink to the bottom of their lobes. “Last date, yes.”

John grinned behind his friend’s back, snagging a cooling biscuit. “Did you snog?”

Huffing, Sherlock turned. “What’s the difference?”

Through his biscuit, John said, “Kissing is just kissing. Snogging is a bit more involved.”

Sherlock made a face and crossed his arms. “Juvenile.”

“Which means it wasn’t a snog, then?”

Sherlock shrugged. “It was satisfactory.”

“Oooh, ‘Dear Penthouse Forum’--”

“Oh shut up, John.” Sherlock dropped into one of the kitchen chairs, in a full pout-soon-to-be-sulk as he face-planted into the tabletop.. “It’s pointless and you are deplorably unhelpful.”

Daughter of deplorably unhelpful friend reached out with her tiny hand and patted her godfather’s curly head. “Lock! Okay?”

John sighed and sat opposite Sherlock. “Look, I’m taking the mick. You’re not the sexual deviant Janine crowed about in the tabloids, and you’re not the unwitting virgin that Mycroft and Moriarty claimed you to be.” He paused. “Are you?”

Sherlock’s answer was spoken low and into the tabletop. “No. The Woman once in Karachi. Janine… sort of.”

John blinked, fought off a triumphant I-knew-it grin, and cleared his throat. “Right, well, sex with Molly is a different beast, though. Molly Hooper is a friend. She’s your pathologist. You did say the L-word to her two months ago.”

Sherlock hummed, Rosie still petting his head.

“She’s not like Janine -- you actually want Molly. She’s not Irene -- you trust Molly.”

Sherlock mumbled something.

“What?”

Sherlock’s head popped up. “With my life, my body, my very soul if such a thing should exist. She matters most. She counts.”

John’s lips quirked up in the corner. “Yeah. And then Sherrinford…”

“I am quite wholly aware that I love Molly Hooper, John. It’s why I want this to go further. It’ll-it’ll mean something. For the first time.”

“Have you told her since then?”

The brief silence was answer enough. John nodded. “Well then that’s it.”

“Hmm?”

“You need to find it.”

“It?”

“Your courage,” John smiled softly. “You admitted you loved her under extreme, traumatic duress. Not ideal. But it is what it is. And what it is is terrifying.”

Sherlock held his gaze, not quite understanding.

“Look mate, Mary…” his voice caught on his wife’s name, his eyes sliding to their daughter who was peering at Sherlock in a very uncanny Mary-like way. “Mary said it first. She knew I loved her by our third month anniversary. She beat me to the punch, and what I never expected was the fear in her eyes right before she said it.”

“Fear?” Sherlock frowned. “Out of the two of you, Mary’s penchant for fear was far less likely than yours, army training notwithstanding.”

“Right. But Mary was like you, and affairs of the heart affect psychopathic geniuses differently than us poor mortals.” John fixed him with a knowing grin. “Mary was afraid of rejection, as anyone would be. But she did it anyway, like she always did.”

At this, Rosie slammed her little hands down on the table, demanding both men’s attention. “Mawee!” she crowed, proud to know her mother’s name.

They chuckled at her, Sherlock kissing her pudgy hand. “So I need to just… to just say it?”

“Well, don’t spring it on her like a booby trap or pop out of a cake with it,” John advised. “But yeah. Boiled down to its bare essentials, she’ll either return the sentiment and snog you silly, or she won’t.”

His friend blanched. “And if it’s the latter?” he whispered.

John smiles sadly. “Then you’ll at least know, and can begin to move on. But Sherlock?”

“Mm?”

He reached over, and in his awkward way, patted Sherlock’s hand. “It won’t be the latter.”

The men shared a look that only brother-in-arms and former flatmates would understand.

The look was was broken by Rosie clapping her hands and giggling madly. John tickled her belly. “Yes, all right, Miss Nibs, let’s treat ‘Lock to some chips.” He looked to Sherlock, who smiled gratefully. “This kind of battle needs a well-fed soldier.”

****

🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵🎵

Sherlock was playing his violin when Molly arrived that night, a soft melody she had yet to hear. Possibly a new piece for his sister? He looked up as she came into the flat and dropped her bag and scarf on the coffee table. Hmm, she thought, the entire flat is spotless. He definitely wants to impress tonight.

“Hullo, Molly.”

She smiled at him. “Hi.”

He nodded to her yellow chair, still playing that light, tender song. She slid out of her flats and curled up into the chair, her oversized jumper pulled over her bent knees. As she settled in, she looked over the detective. He was so casually dressed, jeans and a white button up with sleeves rolled up, feet bare and warmed by the small fire in the hearth. Molly hugged herself, happy to see him so relaxed. He’d been through a lot since Sherrinford and their phone call. She too was still coming back to life from the ordeal and the knowledge of what happened on that horrible island and at Musgrave Hall. A particularly sweet note rang out, and she watched him feel it. Oh but she loved him. Doomed to, it seemed. Well, doomed might’ve been harsh -- destined sounded better.

The song ended as her ruminations did; she clapped quietly, smiling at him. He gave a small bow and set his violin aside, turning and gazing at her intently.

“Did you want me to order a takeaway?” she asked, curling her toes as he held that same searching gaze. “Maybe Chinese? My treat.”

“I love you.”

Molly froze. “Well, er, you got our cheque at Angelo’s, so this one is on me--”

“Molly Hooper.”

She stopped rambling, tears pricking at her eyes. “Sh-Sherlock Holmes.”

He came to kneel before her chair, his eyes still on hers. “I love you. I’m in love with you.”

She didn’t move, didn’t breathe. Sherlock’s hands, warm and sure, gently grasped hers. His pulse beat erratically under his skin, she could feel it match hers. Her heart was screaming, her mind refusing to remember the last time she’d heard him say it. When it’d been torn from him by his sister and her own pride. She simply stared at him, let his confession wash over her and through her like a sea breeze after a storm.

Sherlock slowly let her hands go, and he stood gingerly. John’s voice, so sure that Molly would requite Sherlock’s affection, taunted him in his mind. He cleared his throat, a curious and unfortunately familiar lump forming, and made for the kitchen, scrounging for the takeaway menus.

“Chinese, yes?” he called back to the quiet pathologist, his mouth working fast to fill the silence and not panic. "I’ll get it ordered. With rain imminent, it’s best to order now. You’re probably craving that house lo mein you like -- always are when you’ve worked in the lab, can’t figure out why though it isn’t exactly a mystery, probably just a chemical reaction to the, well, chemicals you’re working with that have you ravenous and craving sodium and carbohydrates and various proteins--”

He stopped abruptly at the feel of her small hand on his. He looked up and Molly’s cheeks were damp, tears slowly spilling down, but her eyes were kind, dark, and calm.

“I love you,” she said simply. “I love you, Sherlock.”

She came up on her tiptoes and pressed her mouth to his, taking advantage of his relieved shock to -- as John Watson had predicted -- snog him silly.

****

The takeaway was never ordered, but the fresh-baked biscuits were consumed heartily.

The imminent rain arrived.

The tidy flat remained so, save for the shed clothing upon the bedroom floor of a consulting detective and his pathologist.

#sherlolly #sherlock holmes #molly hooper #john watson #rosie watson #mrs. hudson

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jacquiesims · 5 years

Text

Viper Canyon - Chapter One

‘The thought had never occurred to her that once they reached Viper Canyon the real work would begin.’

October, 1851

The Hawkins family stared at the great stretch of untamed land in front of them. It was teeming with promise and possibility, with excitement about the unknown – how would they begin their new lives?

“Well,” Papa was the first to speak. His rumbling voice cut through the air. “Best get to building.”

And so the Hawkins family rolled up their sleeves.

Meanwhile...

By the time Elijah had made it to his homestead, his joints were aching from exhaustion. He’d been back and forth on the trail more times than most probably ever should, but it never failed to take its toll on his weary body.

His tired bones were filled with relief as soon as he could see the front door. Soon, he’d be able to take a hot bath and put his aching feet up by the fire, all he’d dreamed of during the long journey back west.

“What in Watcher’s name…”

Elijah opened the door to his home to find it completely ransacked. Books were strewn across the floor, chairs were overturned, and the air was buzzing with a sinister foreboding energy.

He rested his hand on the cool holster of the pistol inside his coat and carefully went up the creaking ladder to the loft.

His heart sank as he took in the state of his bedroom.

The precious chest that usually collected dust at the foot of Elijah’s bed was toppled over, the remnants of whatever the thief had deemed unworthy of stealing left scattered on the floor – cosmetics, cheap trinkets, a pair of worn boots, an unfinished sampler.

Anger soon consumed the sadness in Elijah’s stomach as he stared at the keepsakes on his floor. The bandit had treated his most cherished remembrances as nothing more than mere garbage.

Dusk had fallen by the time Elijah gathered the energy to clean up the mess.

The bandits had left no clue as to their identity. They had stolen everything worth more than a few pennies in Elijah’s home – all of his heirlooms, any money hidden in nooks and crannies…but the things of the most value to him had been heartlessly swept from the trunk.

He sat down in defeat, staring at the room. It seemed all the more hollow knowing that the chest at the end of his bed was nearly empty.

A dried bouquet, delicate with age and still smelling subtly sweet despite resting in the bottom of a trunk for years, dangled helplessly from his hands as he heaved a great sigh.

The bath he had waited so long to take didn’t have the same cathartic effect he remembered. Instead, his thoughts were clouded and muddy. Memories he long thought forgotten swam up to the surface of his conscience like great waves of nostalgia.

It wasn’t just the memories putting him on edge. No, now he was nervous to be in his own home. He’d once naively thought Viper Canyon to be an innocent place. Now he knew that darkness lingered underneath the façade – he’d been ruthlessly robbed, and that was the plain truth. The bandit – or bandits – could’ve made off with more than worldly goods had Elijah been home that day.

What if it hadn’t been Elijah? What if it had been someone who didn’t know how to use a gun, or even how to hold their own in a fight? He thought of Winnie and Beatrice, girls who had grown up in the city, who could barely lift a fifty pound sack of grain when needed on the trail. What would they have done if an outlaw made the Hawkins home a target? The thought chilled his bones in spite of the hot bathwater.

It was in that tub that Elijah McLain solemnly swore revenge on the one that had dared threatened the settlement he now called home.

Winnie hadn’t realized how hard it would be to start their homestead.

The thought had never occurred to her that once they reached Viper Canyon the real work would begin. All of her fantasizing about the land out west had skipped over the backbreaking labor of building an entire home from scratch.

She worked from dawn ‘til dusk, caring for animals, helping Papa build their cabin, fetching water from the town well, and making sure Mamma didn’t need any assistance as she cooked their meals and cleaned the family campsite each day.

After the first few days, Winnie didn’t mind the work so much. She figured it would make her tough and rugged and better suited for life outside of the city. She even fancied that it made her a bit like a book heroine – they always seemed to have a long list of survival skills that Winnie never dreamed she’d one day learn for herself by moving out west.

No, what truly bothered Winnie, per usual, was Beatrice.

Her younger sister did the absolute bare minimum around the camp. Excuses seemed to come to her as easily as breathing – “Winnie, I know it is my day to scour the pans, but I’ve sprained my wrist carrying this crate for Papa! I simply cannot risk this injury getting any worse. There are no doctors around, for Watcher’s sake!”

It was enough to make her blood boil.

But thankfully for Winnie, the anger she felt towards her sister was offset by the wonder and awe she was overwhelmed by as she watched her family’s frontier home take shape.

As if it happened overnight, suddenly Papa had finished the foundation. Her mind raced. Now that the foundation was done, all that was left was the walls and then the roof and they would have a home again.

It was all she could do to be patient and wait to see what their house would become.

After two straight months of grueling work, the family often working through the night, the Hawkins homestead was established just in time for winter.

Winnie looked upon their home with a great sense of pride. Papa had built a grand house and furnished it well, taking infrequent trips to the city and sometimes bringing back help for the most difficult parts of the job.

The animals had room to graze, Mamma had planted vegetables in the garden, and now all there was left to do was make memories in their new home.

Winnie was happiest, above all else, to have back the free time in the day she so cherished to read her books. Her classmates may have teased her back in school for always having her nose in a novel, but she found there was no greater joy than departing the life she lived for a few fleeting moments to step into that of a heroine, even if just for an hour when she found the time.

Beatrice had become increasingly more agreeable now that she was able to retire her stuffy pinnys and aprons for her usual dresses. Winnie wasn’t surprised by this – Beatrice had a reputation for being a terribly vain creature who always placed looks above character. But even Winnie had to admit that it was nice to be back in her old things again. It added a touch of normalcy to life in the desert.

Now the home was built, Winnie could read again, and Beatrice was back in her favorite dresses. The family was set to rights once more.

It was there that the family’s luck seemed to run out.

Each morning after breakfast, Mamma and the girls lined up at the front door and kissed Papa goodbye as he left for the mines.

Mamma prayed to The Watcher often for her husband’s safe return. Winnie found herself doing the same – Papa came back each night covered in a thick layer of dust, grime, and sweat. He often fell into bed without even taking off his work boots, too exhausted to care.

All of this work, and for what? Papa had yet to find a single nugget of the fabled Viper Canyon gold. Even the ever optimistic Winnie was beginning to have her doubts.

The truth was, Papa found himself at the local saloon more often that not after a fruitless day at the mines.

He contemplated his reasons for uprooting his family and bringing them across the country. He’d always had big dreams – dreams of being rich and giving his wife and daughters the best lives possible. Dreams of that caliber couldn’t be achieved back in the city, not for him. Going from job to job, always being seen as nothing more than a carpenter’s son…that was why he wanted to leave. In Viper Canyon, he could make a new name for himself.

Or so he thought. At the rate he was going, he would be branded a failure. He had to find gold – and soon.

At least he could find relief from these all-consuming thoughts, however temporary it was, at the bottom of a whiskey glass.

To Be Continued

Previous Chapter | Viper Canyon Index | Chapter Two

(I know this chapter was a little boring and very passive, but I wanted to skip the Hawkins building their house lol. Also realistically they probably couldn’t have built their house in two months BUT it’s Sims so :/ I just wanted to get the story started so more interesting things could happen ASAP!

Let me know what you thought! Thanks for reading. See you in chapter two.)

#ts2 #sims 2 #ts2 story #viper canyon #viper canyon: chapter one #viper canyon story

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icecoldflames · 5 years

Text

The Pinnae Flower Chapter 1

Masterlist

The Fifth Pinnae Book???

People seem to want to know my opinion on Raz Keeran’s soon-to-be-published fifth and final book in the Pinnae series. So, I’m gonna give it to them.

I know Pinnies—fairies and spirits alike—are freaking out. Who wouldn’t? I’m freaking out right now, sitting up in my bed, nursing a cup of tea and writing this blog post. But I’m not freaking out for the same reasons everyone else is freaking out about.

I’m freaking out because I want to know what’s going to happen in the fifth and final book. We never knew there would be five books in the series, only four. However, Raz Keeran stated on his Twitter that five books in his series was always the plan. It wasn’t unprecedented. So, it’s not a money-grab like some people think.

Also, I’d like to point out (or, more specifically, my friend Logan pointed out to me) that there is no actual proof that Raz Keeran is going to kill off Parisa and Arel. I don’t know where that rumour started but, on Raz’s official sites and social media, it doesn’t say anything about killing the two main characters from the previous four books!

I know that the summary for Pinnae: Spelunca that Raz gave us is pretty nerve-wracking. I mean, come on Raz! We need to kill now what this last book is going to be about! His exact tweet says this:

“A short summary of PS:

It will not have Arel and Parisa in it but will focus entirely on a new MC. Fairies and sprites will not have a major role either.”

Thanks for that hint, Raz.

But anyway, with some sleuthing with Logan, we managed to headcanon what this last book will be about:

Number 1. It will probably be about dragons. I mean, this is pretty obvious I think. Dragons were mentioned in the previous books. Also, in PM and PE, their titles are the names of the fairy and sprite villages: Magus and Exsul. This is obvious latin and anyone could put those words into Google Translate and find the words “magical” and “outcast”/”banished person”. The latin of Spelunca is “cave”. Where do dragons live? Exactly. A cave.

Number 2. We’ll figure out who took the pinnae flower. Raz never did answer the question as to why the dragons stole the pinnae flower (I know Raz never did say the dragons actually did take the flower but it’s pretty much canon by now. Unless some fairy or sprite rubbed glitter on a dragon scale).

Number 3. Raz also NEVER TOLD US WHO FREAKING KILLED SIDNEY. I know some people think that maybe it wasn’t a person but I’m not buying it. Raz wouldn’t kill off that character and then say “oh, he died of a heart attack” or “he died by glitter suffocation”. No. Sidney died at the hands of another person. Who, you may ask? We’ll find out in PS, we’re sure.

Number 4. We’ll find out why Arel’s little sister, Kaida, was in that last scene. We’re sure it wasn’t a vision or some weird magical hallucination. Kaida was there at the battle. Sure, she vanished in, how Raz put it, “a blink of an eye” but do you know how that could have happened? Oh, I don’t know. Magic?

Which brings us to Number 5. Kaida, Logan and I think, is going to be the new MC. We both think it won’t be a full-fledged magical character like a sprite, fairy, or dragon, so human (or at least half-human) will probably be the main character. I mean, why else would Raz add that tidbit about Kaida there if they didn’t plan on using this character in the first place?

So, yeah. These are five things Logan and I think will happen in PS. I’m not mad at Raz for making a fifth book. Sure, the ending of PTNE was pretty good and cry worthy but there is just so much Raz hasn’t answered. Something tells me we’re in for a big surprise.

No one was expecting that bloodbath at the end of PTNE and I think Raz might be preparing us for something darker. The first four books might be about cute fairies and sprites but this last book, we know, is not going to be focused on them.

Thanks for reading my loyal plebeians.

Prince Roman Falco

~~~

Roman read through his post once again before hitting the “publish” button. Then, he heard the familiar whoosh as the post went onto his blog, “The Prince’s Crown”. His blog was his most prized work. A blog—his blog—with a massive and loyal following.

While he started writing posts about musical theatre first, it slowly morphed into a Raz Keeran blog dedicated to Raz’s most famous series: the Pinnae series about fairies and sprites. He still did other posts like everyday life posts and still about theatre. But he was known famously for his Raz Keeran posts. Though, he couldn’t give all the credit to himself. As much as he wanted to, most of his fame admittedly came from his best friend since high school, Logan Holmes.

Logan was incredible with thinking up theories and backing them up with the most forgettable quote from the series. And, amazingly, they usually made sense. Logan also edited all of his posts to make sure he used correct grammar and spelling and sourced everything well.

Logan was not an avid Pinnae series reader or a, as the fandom called themselves, the Pinnies. And Roman could understand that. Logan wasn’t into fantasy worlds with fairies and sprites. He liked mysteries and non-fiction and something that puzzled his mind.

Roman constantly teased about Logan’s last name. Holmes. As in the famous fictional detective, Sherlock Holmes.

With some persuading on Roman’s part, he had managed to get Logan to pick up the Pinnae series. There had been only three books out at the time and Logan had read them in three days. One 700 paged book a day. And Logan was working at the university on those three days. It was like he ate them up and gained the knowledge inside them.

While Logan still wasn’t a full-on Pinnie, he enjoyed the book and had respect for Raz Keeran. “That author can sure write a fantasy novel.” Logan had said after he had finished the fourth book.

Roman watched as his blog post began to be read. His first and most loyal plebeian, an unknown face under the name “theazureflower” commented first, like usual.

Amazing read Roman! Tell Logan that he did a fantastic job! I feel as though this fifth book will not be like any others. And not just because it’s the last book in the series! Your headcanons always seem to make perfect sense! (◕ ˬ ◕✿)

Roman grinned and pressed “reply”.

Glad you liked it! I’ll definitely tell Logan your praise when I see him next!

Roman finally closed his laptop and stood up. He stretched his back and wrists as he made his way to the kitchen for a snack.

He loved Raz Keeran’s series. Maybe some would call it childish for a 25 year old to read such a fantasy novel, but he didn’t care. He had been called many things in life and childish was definitely the one he preferred.

The only thing that really bothered him was that he didn't know who Raz Keeran was. No one did. Raz wrote under a penname and had, so far, not been found out by the public. There was little known about Raz. All Roman and the public knew was that Raz lived in a small town in the USA. No one even knew what gender Raz was. They were completely anonymous and Roman wished he knew who Raz was.

It would be an incredible feat. It would be in magazines, on blogs, in the news! POPULAR BLOGGER UNCOVERED THE MYSTERY BEHIND AUTHOR RAZ KEERAN. He would be famous! It was a secret dream of his to find out Raz’s identity. He knew a lot of people frowned down upon those who wanted to figure it out. They said that if Raz wanted to be found out, they would have shown themselves long ago. They said it was Raz’s own, private, business.

But that still didn’t stop Roman’s dream. He wanted to find Raz. The first one to find Raz. Before anyone else did. He knew there were other people trying to find them. Most of them were large news corporations who could allow that much time spent looking for clues.

But Roman had something that the news corporations didn’t have. He had Logan Holmes.

Roman had hinted at the idea of Logan helping him search for Raz plenty of times. In conversations, in texts, anytime he could speak to Logan. But Logan refused. He had the same opinion as most Pinnies—that trying to find Raz was an invasion of privacy and was wrong.

But Roman’s counter argument was always “but Raz puts themself in the spotlight, they should be in the public. It was their choice to write the Pinnae series.”

However, Logan, always the intellectual, would say “but it was Raz’s choice to stay out of the public eye. You can’t dictate another person’s choice to either stay out of the brutal views of the public eye or put themselves in the limelight where they would no longer have the privacy they want.”

Roman sighed as he opened his cabinet, taking out some crackers and getting some cheese from the fridge. He was sure that if Logan helped him find Raz, they would be able to find them. Easy peasy.

These few months were the perfect time to try to find Raz, too. It was coming up on summer vacation and Logan was taking his summer vacation too. They would both be free from work to travel to wherever Raz lived and find him before their time would be up and they’d have to go back to work.

Roman cut up his cheese in little pieces, humming to himself. Maybe he should phone over to Logan’s house and see what’s up later. Maybe today would be the day he would convince Logan to help him find Raz.

~~~

Logan looked down at his computer screen, reading the picture of theazureflower’s favourite passage from the whole Pinnae series written by Raz Keeran. theazureflower did this every time they messaged each other. He must have at least 10 different favourite scenes in the Pinnae series. Not that Logan was complaining. The passage he sent Logan was from the first book, Pinnae: Forests and Flowers.

Sidney looked absolutely terrifying. The other sprites seemed to think the same too for they made sure to keep a good distance between them and Sidney. His hair was a curly dark red and his eyes were haunting—a smoky grey and golden flecks, sunk deep into his face. He seemed almost impossibly skinny—skinnier than the sprite queen herself.

He was the only one who had a dark grey cape wrapped snugly around his neck with a hood. Most of the sprites had short sleeved shirts on of varying colours. It was like Sidney was a dark stormcloud amidst a large rainbow.

But Sidney didn’t seem to mind the obvious difference between him and the other sprites.

“Hi!” Arel said, looking at Sidney with a toothy smile. “It’s nice to meet you. I like your cape.”

A couple nearby sprites seemed astonished that Arel was even speaking to Sidney and I had to nudge Arel in the side. “They’re staring at us!” I hissed.

Arel looked at me. It was almost a confused look. “Why does it matter? Besides, we’re humans Parisa. Or,” his eyebrows drew down, “at least half human”. He shrugged and turned back to Sidney. I huffed and crossed my arms.

Sidney gave a curt, tight-lipped, smile to Arel. “Thanks. I made it myself.”

“Wow! I wish I could make my own clothes! Normally my mom just buys it at the store.” Arel rambled kindly, making me even irritated.

“That sprite is constantly wearing that stupid cape,” a sprite next to me sighed, climbing onto a branch near my ear. I turned to see a female sprite with bright purple hair. I think Titania introduced her as Mauve. She was frowning deeply. “Once,” she said more quietly, “me and a couple other sprites tried to pull that thing off.”

I looked at her and glanced back to where Arel and Sidney were now having a conversation about leather. “And? What happened?” I asked quietly, urging her to go on.

Mauve shivered just slightly and I was afraid she would fall off the branch. “Let’s just say no one saw him for a whole month. Rumour has it he was exiled.”

“Was there anything you found?” I asked, cocking my head to the side, keeping Sidney and Arel in my peripheral view. “Underneath his cape?”

Mauve shook her head vigorously, her purple hair shaking with it. “Didn’t even get that close to him…” she trailed off and crossed her arms tightly.

Mauve glanced over at Sidney and Arel and I followed her gaze.

They were both laughing silently, as if they’d known each other for eons.

Logan liked Sidney’s introduction too. While the sulky, dark, character was often a cliché there was just...something about Sidney’s character that made him think there was a reason for the cape—a reason for his death in the fourth book. He wasn’t just any morally grey character who would no doubt get an arc in the last book.

But, then again, maybe it wouldn’t happen. Logan had been wrong before. Raz had pleasantly surprised him in the fourth book. He had thought that Raz wouldn’t include such a bloody war. It seemed more like a children’s book than a young adult novel and the blood and descriptions really threw him for a loop.

That was what made Logan like Raz. It was unlike any YA novel Roman had made him read. While some things were alike—fantasy universes, action and conflict and romance—The Pinnae series was something else entirely.

It had hints of dark but children could still read it. It was hidden so well that Logan almost didn’t catch it himself.

theazureflower: I just love sidney’s character!!!

theazureflower: And arel and parisa’s and mauve and lewis’!!!

Logan grinned down at his screen and rolled his eyes.

Lewis’_Journal: You love all the characters. I don’t think you’d be able to choose a favourite character if your life depended on it.

theazureflower: Guilty is charged ;)

theazureflower: But they are all so amazing and raz does such a good job at making their characters feel so...real!!!!

theazureflower: I mean, none of the characters are perfect and their flaws don’t seem like an afterthought. They just...ASDFGHJKL! I relate to all of them all at once!

Logan loved this about theazureflower. He was always so excitable and happy and reminded him of—no. He wouldn't think about him now. Not when he was talking to theazureflower and having a good time.

He did agree with theazureflower, though. Raz’s characters all seemed to be real characters—save that most of them were magical creatures who could fly and speak to animals.

theazureflower: What character do you relate to most???

Lewis’_Journal: Definitely Lewis. I feel like he’s almost exactly like me.

Logan didn’t want to delve too deep into Lewis’ character with theazureflower. It felt almost...too personal to talk about with an online friend he didn’t even know the first name to.

Lewis, Logan felt, was the perfect embodiment of himself.

Lewis was a fairy who was mentioned briefly in the first book before being introduced more thoroughly in the second book, Pinnae: Magus. He was intelligent and smart and did not speak much with the other fairies. Logan liked to think he was the opposite of Sidney to a degree—the outcast character but on the fairy side.

But Lewis accompanied Parisa in her quest to find the missing Pinnae flower. He was, at first, silent and incredibly stoic. It was only when Parisa brought her laments that she was missing Arel that they really bonded.

During that chapter the reader finds that Lewis has a brother. While Logan doesn’t have a brother himself, he can still empathize with Lewis’ emotions connected to his gone missing brother.

theazureflower didn’t reply for a long moment. Logan didn’t think about it too much.

That was when the phone rang. He reached for the phone and groaned at the caller ID. Roman. Roman Falco. His co writer of the popular blog, “The Prince’s Crown”. Logan’s name was never mentioned in the About page but Roman mentioned him enough that almost all the readers knew Logan helped write Roman’s posts.

What really annoyed Logan, though, was that Roman was a, rather scatterbrained and b, was obsessed with the author of the Pinnae series, Raz Keeran.

While scatterbrained was fine (it was only the fact that Roman never had a schedule for his posts and they always came out on random days at random times), it was Roman’s obsession that was borderline stalkerish and just plain wrong.

“Let the author live their life!” Logan had said late last week when Roman had asked him to figure out where Keeran lived for the thousandth time. “If Keeran wants to stay anonymous, that’s their business, not yours.”

Logan was hoping Roman would eventually drop it. But, Logan knew his friend well. Roman was very strong minded and when he wanted something, he would try his darned hardest to get his idea to become a reality.

Logan put the phone to his ear after heaving a deep sigh. “Hello?”

“Logan—“

“—No, Roman. I’ve already told you I’m not going to stalk Keeran and find out where they live so you can unveil them in your blog.” Logan said crossly.

It was silent on the other end for a split second. “...It’s your blog too, ya know.” Roman’s voice finally said. “You help me with all my posts.”

“But you started the blog.” Logan pointed out. If Logan were to have a blog, it wouldn’t be about a book series (no matter how good of a series they were) and he would definitely not call it “The Prince’s Crown”.

“Yeah, that doesn’t mean anything.” Roman said emphatically.

Logan didn’t know why he was arguing with Roman. Besides, Logan and Roman didn’t get paid for the blog. Sure, sometimes they got ads on their blog but, more often than not, “The Prince’s Crown” to Logan was more of a hobby.

Roman seemed to be thinking about the same thing as Logan as he immediately dropped the argument. “Anyway. Logan, you’ll never believe what I just read!”

Logan crossed his arms, squatting the phone between his ear and shoulder. He raised an eyebrow. “What did you find now, Roman? Something about Keeran on another sourceless blog that only relies on speculation?”

“No—well...yes.”

Logan pushed up his glasses and took a breath. “Okay, Roman, what did you find?”

One of Roman’s “brilliant” ideas to find information about Keeran was to search up their name or something about the Pinnae series and then go to the very last Google page.

Most so-called “interviews” with Keeran and “Raz Keeran Revealed!!!” posts were fake and were in the last pages of Google for a reason.

“There’s this new interview! Speaking to Raz Keeran over email!”

“—Literally every interview with Keeran is over email,” Logan said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No one has heard Keeran’s voice. No one knows what gender Keeran is either, that’s the whole point of email.”

“Anyway,” Roman continued. “It said that they managed to learn a couple things about Raz. It said that they managed to weasel out of them that they go to this cafe every morning. And!! Listen to this! It says that Raz lives somewhere around the coast and their town does annual art exhibits around their streets!”

Logan’s back stiffened and he instantly began scrolling backwards in his conversation with theazureflower. “Art exhibits in the streets?” He repeated. “What is this blog anyway?”

“‘The Pinnae Flower’.” Roman replied. “Some tiny blog run by this girl.”

“Isn’t that the one who also said Keeran was some big corporation?” Logan asked, still scrolling. He was into last year’s conversation with theazureflower.

“...Well...yeah. But still!”

Then, Logan found it. A conversation he had had with theazureflower two years ago. June. Almost exactly two years earlier.

theazureflower: I can’t wait for this weekend!!!

Lewis’_Journal: How come? What’s happening over there?

theazureflower: There’s this thing my town does

theazureflower: It’s kinda of like this art thing

theazureflower: Artists in our town do some art and over the weekend they hang them everywhere in the town

theazureflower: Like a scavenger hunt but you find wonderful art everywhere!

Logan wasn’t sure if any other USA town did an art exhibit like theazureflower. It felt odd for Keeran, though. If their town and theazureflower’s were the ones to do an art exhibit, then wouldn’t Keeran be more secretive with it?

But when Logan searched it up. There were a couple of small towns that did something like what theazureflower explained.

There were multiple towns but none of them were theazureflower’s home town. Logan knew theazureflower’s hometown, Mayflower Town, and it wasn’t there.

“Logan?” Roman asked, making him jump. He had forgotten Roman was still on the line. “You still there? What are you doing?”

“I think…” Logan said, trailing off. He straightened his spine. “I think you should leave Keeran alone.” He hung up before Roman could say anything else.

Logan went back to the computer and theazureflower.

...What if theazureflower and Keeran lived in the same town?

Logan and theazureflower sometimes talked about meeting each other summer. Maybe…

He quickly shut the computer. No. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t try to unveil Keeran. It would go against all of his morals. It was wrong. Just plain wrong.

But Roman would want to travel with him—they always did in the summer. And if Logan told Roman about Keeran and theazureflower, Roman wouldn’t leave that town until he found out Keeran’s identity.

Unless...what if theazureflower was Keeran?

No. That was impossible. Keeran explicitly said in previous email interviews they did not read theories about the Pinnae series because they didn’t want to be accused of plagiarism. “The Prince’s Crown” was just about all theories and ideas.

No. Logan couldn’t go against his morals. He wasn’t a hypocrite. Logan did not want to be the one to put a spotlight on Raz Keeran.

Logan got out of bed and poured himself a cup of coffee in a cup that Roman had given him last year for his birthday—a Sherlock Holmes mug that said “It’s elementary, my dear Watson”.

It was going to be a long day. He could feel it.

~~~

Roman loves to teach. Children were always bursting with excitement and ideas. Roman was glad he was a drama teacher—he couldn’t imagine teaching children math or science.

It was nearing the end of school and since elementary schools had no exams, he didn’t have to do major correcting like Logan did.

Thank goodness.

By the end of the day, Roman was feeling electricity running through him. He didn’t think he could go home and do something productive and static right now.

So, he called up the only person he wanted to see. Logan. Maybe they could go to the mall or go out for an extra early supper.

“Hello?” Logan asked from the other end. His voice had a sharp edge to it.

Roman put his phone on speaker and began pulling out of the school’s parking lot. “Want to chillax this afternoon? I just got out of the school. I can come pick you up. I don’t think I can stay at home on this beautiful June afternoon.”

Logan didn’t reply for a long time and Roman had to check his phone to make sure he hadn’t hung up on him.

“As long as you don’t bring up trying to find Raz.” Logan said bitterly. “I’m sick of you always talking about it.”

Roman didn’t even think. “Of course. No talk about finding Raz. Got it.”

“Good.” Logan said. “I’ll just pack some stuff to correct and I’ll be out at the front of the university in five minutes.”

Before Roman could protest (who brought stuff to correct on an outing?), Logan had hung up.

Roman got to the university in less than three minutes and, soon after, Logan walked out. Roman glanced at the dash and grinned. Exactly five minutes since their phone call.

“As always, very punctual.” Roman commented as Logan pulled himself into the passenger seat.

“Why are you surprised?” Logan asked, buckling himself in and putting his massive canvas bag at his feet. “I am always punctual.”

Roman grinned as he put the keys in the ignition. “So, where do you want to eat? We could go to—“

Logan rolled his eyes. “Why do you always ask? We always go to the same place.”

Roman shrugged. “Just making sure. What if you suddenly become sporadic and choose some place different?”

“I’m not messing with tradition.” Logan protested. “We’ve been going to the same place since we were in high school.” His eyebrows knitted together. “And when have I ever been sporadic?”

“Well, there was that one time,” Roman chuckled. “When you signed up for the soccer team on a whim.”

“I need exercise.” Logan protested. “The place where I normally walked went under construction—“

“Sure, sure, sure.” Roman grinned as he pulled up to Fairy Cakes and Fantasy Books.

The whole building was decked out in pink and glitter with fairy statues near the door, greeting customers.

The building was squat between a law firm and a grass lot that seemed to permanently hold a “For Sale” sign beneath it’s uncut grass.

It was far away from most of the city and pretty secluded.

Fairy Tales and Fantasy Books was a cafe and library all wrapped into one. It was mostly booked out for birthday parties and for special events.

Normally, it was empty. Like now.

“I can’t believe this place is still open.” Logan muttered. “And still looks pretty okay.”

Roman stepped out of the car and Logan did the same. The air felt thicker even though they were nowhere near the center of the city.

As Roman opened the door, a bell above tinkled and Logan patted the head of a statue of a fairy clad in pink and doused with a fine glitter.

“Ah! Roman and Logan! My favourite two customers!” The lady behind the counter exclaimed. She had her dyed blonde hair up in a bun and was wearing a green dress like Tinkerbell.

“Good afternoon Breena!” Roman called out, striding over to the desk where all the baked goods were.

Logan was immediately drawn to the books and he began to gravitate towards them.

The books were in the corner and the wooden bookshelves were covered in pink glitter and sparkly fairy stickers. Logan’s eyes read the spines.

Most of them were fantasy novels. Hence the name Fairy Cakes and Fantasy Books.

Logan recognized the Harry Potter series, the Lord of the Rings, the Chronicles of Narnia, and the Six of Crows duology. And, in the very middle, was the Pinnae series.

They were the American version. The cover was a glossy pinnae flower with an old time-y map as it’s background. They were all hardcovers.

The first book in the series, Pinnae: Forests and Flowers, was the only book here at the cafe that he had read. All the others he had bought himself.

Scrawled throughout the pages, however, young children had marked it with crayons and the pages were dog-eared again and again, some pages were missing corners altogether. It infuriated Logan to no end.

So, after he had finished the first book, he had bought the entire box set which included a complementary map of the world Raz had created.

“So, what’ll it be?” Breena asked, gesturing to all the pastries and cakes behind the glass.

Roman leaned against the counter, clicking his tongue while making his decision. “I think I’ll have the usual, Breena. Thank you very much.”

Breena grinned and slid open the glass, taking out three churros which had been rolled in pink, edible, glitter. The card next to them read “Fairy Wands”.

“And you Logan?” Breena asked.

Logan came up to the glass and peered inside. He’d been seeing the same baked goods since high school yet he could never really choose “a usual” like Roman.

“I think I’ll have two of those Fairy Cakes,” Logan finally decided, pointing to the powdered sugar topped Berliners.

Breena nodded and put two of the Berliners on a plate.

Once they had paid, Logan and Roman found themselves in their usual spot—in the back corner next to the fairy book display which included a couple of the Rainbow Magic series, the Artemis Fowl series, and The Spiderwick Chronicles.

“I literally love this place,” Roman sighed as he bit into his churro. “It always seems so magical to me.”

Honestly? Logan didn’t see it. All he saw was a cafe-library covered in pink and glitter and fairy pictures and drawings hung on the walls.

But he loved it all the same. Just not for the reasons Roman had.

He loved how the books were all Tetris-ed in the bookshelves perfectly. It was like an oddly satisfying video.

He loved Breena’s desserts even though he didn’t have much of a sweet tooth.

And lastly, the fact that it was almost always empty. While Breena probably hated that there wasn’t a lot of business, Logan was perfectly content eating Berliners with Roman in an empty cafe with books.

They sat in comfortable silence as they munched on their treats.

As always, Roman was the first to talk. “Guess what I saw today.”

“What?”

“I saw one of my students, Matilda, reading the first Pinnae book! I think she’s going to do her novel presentation on it too!” Roman grinned from ear to ear.

“I, as well, saw a student in my astrology seminar with a t-shirt with the pinnae flower on it.” Logan said, remembering the student and his green shirt.

Roman finished his churros in record time, Logan just starting his second Berliner.

He could feel the pressure building up in Roman’s voicebox, about to ask the inevitable question. Logan knew Roman couldn’t refrain from it. He never knew why he always made Roman promise not to bring it up when Logan knew for a fact Roman could never bite his tongue.

Roman shifted in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. “Logan…” he hesitated. “I know that I promised not to say anything about it but...could you please reconsider trying to find Raz?”

And there it was. Logan sighed and shoved the rest of the Berliner in his mouth to keep from screaming. He didn’t think he could handle Roman right now.

Roman twiddled his fingers like a child as he waited for Logan to chew and swallow the Berliner. “I just,” he sighed, “you’re so good at mysteries and stuff and—“

Logan swallowed and angrily shook his head. “No,” he hissed, trying not to raise his voice and alert Breena. “Roman, I’ve told you every single time you’ve asked: no. I will not find Raz for you. There is a reason Raz is anonymous.”

He didn’t know why right now, in a glittery cafe-library, he was finally breaking. After years and years of Roman asking, he had never really gotten mad or angry with him. Logan would just shake his head or logically explain why finding Raz was wrong, hoping it would get into Roman’s brain and he’d finally realize that his dream was unethical. Maybe it was pent up anger from all the years.

A small part in Logan’s brain reminded him of his theory that theazureflower and Raz might live in the same town.

He shook it away. Not now, he told himself.

Roman shrunk for a split second in his chair before seeming to come to his senses and lean forward and straighten his spine, meeting Logan’s height. “I understand why it’s wrong but don't you see it? Our blog could get so many new readers and we could become famous!”

“I’m not interested in becoming famous, Roman. Maybe that’s why I empathize with Raz so much.” Logan snapped back. “I’m not finding Raz for you.”

Roman wasn’t giving up that easily. And neither was Logan. He didn’t know how the two of them—both rather hotheaded—became friends, to be honest. Or, actually, stayed friends after all this time.

“What if—”

“—No, Roman. I won’t take any of your compromises. You’re atrocious at keeping promises. Like this one.” Logan inturpted, not in the mood for one of Roman’s compromises. “Oh! But what if we found Raz but didn’t tell anyone?” or “What if we found Raz and hinted at it on our blog to grab followers?”. Logan was sick of them. Roman would never keep Raz’s identity a secret after he knew, Logan was sure of it.

“This summer is perfect, though, Logan!” Roman exclaimed wildly. “It’s summer and you’ve got a couple of weeks from last summer we didn’t use!”

Logan gritted his teeth and brought his hands into fists. “Roman, for the last time, I am not—absolutely will not—find Raz Keeran for you.” His voice was loud and Logan prayed Breena wasn’t in earshot.

Roman slouched in his chair and sulked, rolling his eyes. “I bet I could find someone on Craigslist that could find Raz quicker than you anyway. They can be my new best friend.”

Logan felt his anger rise and rise until it consumed him. “Craigslist?” He repeated. “Craigslist?” He pounded a fist on the table, the plates slightly jumping off the table. He was better than any random person on Craigslist.

Logan heard the words come out of his mouth before he could logically go over the consequences. “Oh yeah? You think, Roman? Well pack your bags and book us two plane tickets to Mayflower Town. We’ve got some sleuthing to do.”

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idkthisisjustforfanfic · 5 years

Text

Chapter 8 - (totally uninterested.)

How’s it feeling today?

Not good

No?

No. Need you to come help me.

Help you with what?

Lots.

Lots?

Lots!

🙄 coming

I walked into Harry’s apartment right after 5pm on Monday night--and seeing as it was both of our nights off, I figured I’d be nice and bring him some ice cream.

I’d called him from the store to inquire about what he wanted, but I made it clear that he’d only get ice cream if he actually let me study for my upcoming history test. So now, I was sat on the floor of his living room while he was propped up on the couch (with his right ankle elevated in a strangely royal fashion), while he channel surfed.

“Can I have a beer?”

“Are you serious? No! I’m studying. You’re supposed to be doing homework too.”

He rolled his eyes at this but didn’t protest. Instead, he stood himself up and started to hobble towards the kitchen. I’d been nice enough to him--I’d gotten him an ice pack, brought the ice cream, helped him get set up on the couch, brought him a snack and a tissue.

He was feeling alright enough to walk some short distances, but he was headed for his doctor’s appointment later in the week to learn his ultimate fate in relation to soccer. When he returned from the kitchen, he had two cans in his hands.

He tossed one to me quickly, letting out a laugh when my hands flew up to protect my head. “Jesus, you could have killed me,” I chastised. “I didn’t even want one.”

“They’re the ciders you like,” he said. “I keep them around for you.”

He did? “You do?”

“I do,” he said, settling back on the couch before opening the top. He took a sip and then raised it in my direction. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

I cleared my throat, unsure of what to say. Did I tell him that I liked the fact that he kept my favorite drink around? Did I tell him that I liked the fact that he knew my favorite drink in the first place? “Just can’t believe that you nearly decapitated me.”

He laughed, picking up his phone to reply to a text. I glanced back down at the page in my textbook that would hopefully give me more information about the Ancient Greek Empire.

“Truth or dare?”

“Hm?” I looked up at him, positive that I’d misheard him.

“Truth or dare?” He said it again, his eyes still on his phone momentarily, but then he dropped it to his lap and looked me in the eyes as he brought the can to his mouth once more.

“Dare?” I said, still unsure of where he was headed.

“You can’t say dare first, Nora!”

“What? Why? If I’m not allowed to say dare than you might as well just ask me a question!”

“You’ve ruined the game and we haven’t even started playing,” he laughed a bit, keeping his eyes on me as I adjusted to face him more directly.

I let out a sigh and bit my lip, my tone somewhat defiant. “Okaaaay, truth.”

“Do you really think Ethan Davis is right for you?”

I blinked a few times, my face feeling hot as I felt his eyes lock on mine. Voices passed in the hallway outside his apartment. I nodded. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Why?”

He shrugged his shoulders, a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Dunno--I just--don’t see it.”

“I don’t care if you don’t see it.”

“Okay, relax. No need to be so defensive,” he laughed a little, another sip from the cider. “Your turn.”

“Why do you care about my relationship with Ethan?”

“I didn’t say ‘truth,’” he narrowed his brows at me, but I wasn’t about to stand for it.

“You forced me to answer your question--you can answer mine.”

Harry--who found this much more amusing than I did--tried his best to suppress his smile. “Cause you’re not as bad as I thought. I’d hate to see you end up with someone not right for you.”

I rolled my eyes, dismissive of his words. Sure, Harry was allowed to ‘look out for me’--if you want to call it that--but his opinion on my love life felt out of place and unjust.

I sat there for a second, wondering how on earth Harry and I had become the type of friends to sit around drinking ciders and playing truth or dare. Something about it felt incredible juvenile, but at the same time, incredibly normal.

“Truth or dare?”

I brought my eyes back up to him, suddenly overwhelmed with a desire to blurt out all of my thoughts and feelings. I took a sip of the cider instead as I stood from my spot on the floor. I walked to sit at the far end of the couch--his eyes on me as I adjusted and got comfortable.

“Truth.”

“Do you hate me as much as you used to?”

I twisted my face as if I was thinking long and hard--gaining a laugh from him when I shrugged my shoulders. “You’re less cocky than I thought you were.”

“Oh, gee, that’s great,” his voice was monotonous and unimpressed.

I straightened my legs out, kicking him in the knee a bit. “You’re lucky I can tolerate you as much as I do. Once upon a time we had a rule about only hanging out a certain number of times per week.”

“Yeah--we had a lot of rules that we didn’t really follow.”

“What? We didn’t not follow them, Harry. We just hang out more than we expected.”

He shrugged his shoulders playfully--as if he had more to say--but the door opened to his apartment, revealing Niall, Ethan, and Ryan.

“Hey,” Niall greeted, kicking his shoes off in the front hallway before coming into the living room. “Bit ‘o distance between ya’s, everything alright?”

I laughed, moving to get as close to Harry as possible without being on top of him. “Better?”

“Much,” Harry replied, his arm snaking around my waist quickly. I shot him a smirk--one that might have been too flirty and too playful--but he returned it as Ethan and Ryan came into view.

“How was practice?” I asked, reaching to tug at the hospital bracelet that was still around Harry’s wrist.

“Ugh,” Ryan let out a groan. “Fucking terrible. Coach had us doing all sorts of stupid shit to prepare for tomorrow’s game that we’re definitely going to lose.”

“You don’t know that, do you?” I asked, trying to be positive.

“No, we do, Nora.” Niall nodded assuredly. “We suck, honest to god. Garbage. Rat’s ass. No good.”

Harry shot me a look and let out a laugh at their theatrics, taking another sip of his drink. “Anyone care for a beverage?”

“Or ice cream? I brought plenty.”

“That sounds good,” Ethan said with a smile, pointing at the two of us as we sat cuddled on the couch.

“What did you do to deserve someone like her, Harry?” Niall raised his hands to the sky--as if he were praising the heavens--before heading for the freezer.

“Dunno,” he laughed, turning to look at me. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to my forehead--and it sort of sounded like he meant it.

The good news from Harry’s doctor’s appointment was that he’d be able to practice again in a few weeks--but the bad news was that he couldn’t coach his pee-wee soccer league with a strained ankle and a bulky boot.

And don’t get me wrong, I liked kids. They were fine enough--but the idea of 10-15 rowdy children who’d been cooped up all day in a D.C. public school kind of struck me as a good way to get premature gray hair and a stress ulcer before I turned 21.

Harry--in all his booted glory--seemed to find it quite entertaining to watch me try to get a bunch of 6 and 7 year olds to line up and do some kind of warm up drill he’d tried to explain. The problem wasn’t that I didn’t understand, the problem was that Harry was apparently terrible at articulating athletic instruction. Good thing the whole coaching thing wasn’t his Plan A.

His hair was up in a bun at the back of his head--and as hard as I tried, I couldn’t help but find it attractive when he knelt down to help a few of the kids tie their cleats and finish putting their shin-guards on.

“Okay, so, now you basically just have to run a few laps with them and then we let just fuck around for a while.”

“Wait--what?” I asked him, watching as he counted down the list on a clipboard that seemed to have all of their names in alphabetical order.

“Yeah, they just kick it around and chase each other and try to shoot on goal, pretty much.”

“No, not that,” I held a hand up. “You didn’t tell me I had to run. I didn’t agree to run.”

“Nora,” he looked up at me, his eyebrows dipped together to let me know that he wasn’t pleased. “You literally offered to help. You didn’t think about the fact that there’d be running involved?”

“No!” I let out a whine, stomping my foot to show him just how much I didn’t want to run. “I can, like, jog--maybe. Elliptical, fine. Running, no can do.”

“Just try, okay?” He held the clipboard by his side now and offered a smile before putting his hand up to his mouth to yell out to the kids. “Tonight’s extra warm up is tag, and Coach Nora is it first!”

“Fuck, Harry!” I said, looking at him as if he’d just told me that he’d been burnt down an orphanage. “Seriously?”

“You better catch one of them,” he smirked. “Whoever’s it at the end has to do extra push-ups.”

I took off running, setting my eyes on the boy in a green shirt and yellow cleats. The advantage I had was my height--which wasn’t something I could usually say. When you’re playing a game of tag with a bunch of kids, though, longer legs worked in your advantage.

I was able to give the kid a shove--which caused him to fall to the ground before springing back up with a hunger in his eyes I’d never seen. He took off after a girl with a long braid down her back, and I took that as my cue to just stay out of the way.

Harry seemed to let us go on like that for a while, finally blowing his whistle to circle us back up. Once they were situated with some different colored pinnies (there was only one fight about who got to wear which color), Harry was right--we let them go and they made do on their own.

“Is it always this easy? Are their parents really paying for this?”

“Their parents are not paying for this. It’s totally free. Was my idea with the athletics department instead of getting suspended from the team and with the judge for my--” he smirked over at me and lowered his voice. “Arrest.”

“You didn’t get arrested,” I rolled my eyes at him, walking over to join him on the bench on the side of the field as we switched roles in the conversation about his incident. “That would make you way cooler.”

“Yeah?” He laughed. “Much more appealing if I was a criminal?”

“Mhm,” I nodded, watching as one kid shoved another before stealing the ball with both hands (totally against the rules, but Harry didn’t seem to care). “It’d be hard to keep my pants on around you.”

He let out a laugh at that, watching me out of the corner of his eye for a second. I wondered what he was thinking as he reached down to adjust his boot.

I felt that feeling in my stomach--the nervousness and the excitement all twisted into one lump that seemed to settle just below my lungs. I kept my eyes down and focused on the chipped nail polish on my thumb, scratching at it to avoid having to address the feeling in my gut.

I’d made a mistake--I’d let myself get too attached to Harry and now I was stuck in a place where I’d be sure to lose either way. If Harry and I broke up and I started dating Ethan, I’d lose a friend in Harry most likely. There was no way Ethan would want to hang out as a group if he felt awkward about the fact that his girlfriend and the love of his life had previously dated his friend.

But at the same time, the knot in my stomach told me that I’d gotten too attached to Harry. I’d forgotten about the rules and the pretending and somewhere along the lines my heart got brought into the mix and now there was an excitation of my pulse when he looked at me like he was right now.

I’d never been the type of person to think before I spoke. It just wasn’t the Nora Hanson way of being. But now--with Harry beside me and a lot on the line--I chose to be quiet. Instead of talking it out with Kristen or running through my options a thousand times over as I spoke aloud to myself in the shower, I tried to quiet my mind.

And when feelings got in the way, I could remind myself of one thing: Harry and I weren’t actually meant to be. We weren’t actually the best of friends or two people who had undeniable chemistry (though maybe a part of me wouldn’t mind that). We were two co-workers who’d grown to tolerate each other and shared a few laughs along the way. We were working towards a goal and if it hadn’t been for that goal, none of this would have happened.

I couldn’t back out now. I couldn’t tell Harry that maybe, possibly, there was something between us. I couldn’t tell him that a part of me wanted to cancel everything and just spend time with him. Not to convince Ethan of anything, not to keep up with the plan, just to be with him and hear him laugh and watch the way his eyebrows dipped when I said something incredibly stupid that he just couldn’t help roll his eyes at.

If I did that--if I told Harry all of these thoughts, he’d probably pull back and feel uncomfortable and tell me that Nora, you’re a nice girl, but I’m totally uninterested.

And I wasn’t sure if my heart could handle that.

Need you to come over earlier. Have something to show you.

🤔A surprise?

Sort of 🙈

What is it?!

Nora, just come over. Ready when you are 👌

I’m in the middle of an episode of Law and Order!

Nooooraaaaaaa

Fiiiiiine! Give me 20.

The day of Halloween had arrived, and while Harry was more than ready to suit up in our costume, I was appreciative of the quiet morning and a chance to sit in bed and watch TV without any commitments. I’d told him originally that Kristen and I would be over around 7pm to pregame and help the boys set up, but I trudged across campus and over to his apartment with my costume shoved in my backpack when he’d texted.

“You have to be quiet because we’re not supposed to be going up here,” he told me, a small laugh escaping my lips when I furrowed my brows together. He reached for my hand and laced his fingers through mine, pulling me up the first few steps behind him.

He picked up his pace despite the clunky boot, dropping my hand when he got to the last few steps. I knew--just from my general knowledge of apartment buildings--that we were near the roof. He’d pressed the button for the top floor in the elevator, and the only place an emergency staircase could lead on the terminal floor of a building was--

“The roof,” he smiled, pushing the metal door open as he stepped onto the blacktop. “Technically for emergencies only, but I figured I’d do something nice for you as a ‘thank you’ for all you’ve helped with over the last few weeks.”

I stepped out behind him, shielding my eyes from the sun. When he let the door shut behind me, I saw--on the far side of the roof--a blanket laid down with two take out containers and a bottle of red wine.

“Is that ours?” I asked, smacking him in the stomach quickly out of excitement. I danced over, a smile on my face as he followed behind me.

“I had to ask Kristen what your favorite dish was from Beijing Cafe,” he said, lowering himself carefully so as to avoid any further injuries.

“Harry, this is so sweet,” I sat down quickly, thankful for the big sweatshirt I was wearing. My hunger was getting the best of me as I eyed the containers, opening each to reveal the contents inside. I reached for a plastic fork and scooped a mouthful of fried rice up to my lips. “Oh my god, it smells so good.”

He twisted the cap off of the wine, poured two glasses, and then handed one to me. “Yeah, well, eat up ‘cause I have a feeling you’re going to get pretty intoxicated tonight.”

“Me?” I feigned shock and offense while he laughed at my drama. “Intoxicated? Never in a million years would I be drunk.” I took a sip of the wine at that and lost all train of thought. “Pinot noir--you know the way to my heart.”

He was quiet for a moment, and I wondered if he was about to bring up the break up. We both knew it was happening--he’d mentioned it off-handedly in the library the other day, but he cleared his throat.

“Cheers to you being the best fake girlfriend I’ve ever had,” he smiled, raising his cup in the air.

I sighed, momentarily comfortable with the butterflies in my stomach as I lifted my cup to meet his. “Well--you’re also the best fake boyfriend I’ve ever had, even if you’re a dick half the time.”

“Yeah, I mean, you kind of make it easy to pretend,” he had his glass of wine still raised and against mine, but I cut him off before he could say any more. If he finished that sentence, we’d never go back. He’d make it too real, too quick, too much, too anything.

“Cheers to a successful fake relationship,” I said, pushing my glass against his once more before bringing it to my mouth. “We’re a good fake couple.”

His face seemed frozen for a second, like his thoughts were racing and maybe he didn’t like what I was saying. His tongue seemed to glide upon his lower lip, and I thought, for a second, he’d bring it all up.

Was he wondering how much was fake and how much was real? Did he forget, sometimes, that the whole reason this started was so I could get with someone else?

“Good wine,” I commented, offering a forced smile to lighten the mood.

I didn’t understand--if Harry was having feelings, he would have said something. He was the type of guy who spoke his mind and never felt bad about it. If Harry really wanted to, he could have made this real a while back.

“Yeah,” he said. “Good wine.”

I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the fact that Ethan was around, but nightfall had Harry feeling extra affectionate and extremely flirty. The vodka I’d already drank seemed to make my heart feel heavier in relation to the lack of reality in Harry and I’s relationship.

On one hand, pretending to date Harry left me with an adrenaline rush that I’d never experienced before--especially when his skin touched mine. On the other hand, each sweet thing Harry said and did made me feel even more like we were speeding towards a brick wall.

The inevitable break up would happen and everything we’d built--real or fake--would come crashing down.

But at half past 11pm and with the music blaring in their living room, I didn’t seem to have the wherewithal to think that far ahead. His arm snaked around my waist, he pulled me closer to him and spoke into my ear. “You look incredibly hot as a hippie.”

“Y’sure I don’t look like a hooker?” I asked, laughing against his chest as someone pushed past us to get towards the kitchen.

“Baby, y’look incredible,” he said, our faces close together in the dark of his apartment. If I didn’t know any better, I would have forgotten about the dinner we’d had, the things he’d said about Ethan, the agreement we’d made in September to string everyone along.

His hand moved down my back, resting on my butt as he looked down at me, a smirk growing on his lips. But luckily, I caught myself. I took a step back--realizing that we were about to ruin the entire plan because of a few too many drinks and the loud music that seemed to quicken my pulse.

“Harry,” I said, leaning up to his ear so he could hear me better. His arms pulled me closer to him, urging me to continue. “We have to do it. We have to break up.”

I felt his body stiffen, he pulled his head back to look down at me, a look of disgust was smeared on his face. “Nora--you’re seriously,” he cut himself off.

“I’m what, Harry?”

He didn’t answer--his silence made the anger in my chest grow with the thump of the bass. “I’m what, Harry?” I pulled back from him now, putting space between us as the drink in my hand sloshed over the edge of the glass.

He stared at me with angry eyes. His lips moved as if he wanted to form words, but couldn’t. I shoved a hand into his chest, hoping to make him cough up the words like they’d gone down the wrong tube. “What?!”

He swatted my arm away. “If you just want to do it, we’ll do it? Okay? We can break up right here so everyone knows and you can go running into his arms, right? That’s what you want?”

I let out a sarcastic laugh--bothered by the fact that he was so angry with me. He’d been the one putting it off. He’d been the one who’d been treating me like I actually mattered to him and if he was starting to feel like the lines were blurred and maybe we weren’t just pretending--he was late to the party.

He grabbed my wrist and brought me deeper into the living room, his voice still loud as he turned to face me. “Is this what you want? Right here in front of everyone?”

“Harry, relax,” I said, my tone more serious now as I tried to pry my wrist away from him. “You’re being an asshole.”

“Right, of course I am. I’m the asshole, and you--” he paused, trying to find the right words as he looked around the room. “You are annoying--did you know that? Maybe people always used to say that to you because it’s true, Nora. You’re just fucking annoying.”

I could feel my lips part, his words seemed to crawl into my heart and wrap around my lungs. The music seemed to quiet and the voices in the room seemed to become more hushed, and when I looked past Harry’s shoulder, I saw Ethan watching our scene with wide eyes--just like I’d always wanted. But something about this felt real--Harry’s words were not just pretend. The anger in his voice wasn’t just an act, and suddenly, he wasn’t just my coworker with a penchant for pissing me off.

I could feel everyone’s eyes on us, sweeping stares and hurried glances alike made tears well in my eyes as I tried to come to my senses. I was stupid to think that I could trust Harry with that insecurity--baring my soul in the hotel room we’d shared three weeks earlier felt like a dream I was trying to hold onto.

“Fuck you,” I said quietly, my voice too fragile to be any louder. “That’s fucking low.”

“You’re low, Nora,” he said, the pink sunglasses on his face were pushed up and in his hair now. “This whole thing was low.” He motioned around the room, and while everyone else was clueless as to what he was talking about, I knew.

He meant pretending to date to make Ethan jealous. He meant that all of it--everything we’d done over the last two months--was a waste of time and, apparently, annoying.

I turned to walk away quickly, sobs threatening to spill over at any second. I pushed through the crowd and headed for Niall’s bedroom, slamming the door behind me and pausing there until I heard the music get louder and the talking and laughing resume outside. I was stuck--both physically and emotionally--locked inside of Niall’s bedroom as if I didn’t need to get out of this apartment any time soon.

I was drunk--I chalked up the tears and the nauseousness and the quickened heartbeat to the four drinks and two shots I’d had, hoping that if I could just sober up, just take away the tipsiness, I’d be fine.

Maybe I was stupid to think that Harry and I could fake it like we did. Maybe I was stupid to think that things wouldn’t get messy and that there’d be no feelings hurt. And maybe we’d been so good at pretending that both of us got caught up in the moment and thought that there was a chance for something more.

“Nora?” I heard a voice sound from the other side of the door as two knocks made my body shake against it.

I expected it to be Kristen, but when I opened it quickly, Ethan stood on the other side. Of course it was Ethan. His face--upon seeing me--was concerned. He squeezed through and then shut the door behind us.

“Hey, hi, are you okay? What just happened?”

I let out a dry laugh, unsure if any one of us knew the answer to his question. “I don’t know, Ethan.”

“Come here, come sit,” he said, taking my elbow to bring me towards Niall’s bed. I’d flicked the light switch on, revealing a heap of dirty clothes in the corner next to a bike that I’d never seen Niall ride.

I followed him over and sat, wiping at my eyes carefully so as to not damage the inordinate amount of make up I was wearing. “I don’t even know what just happened, but clearly, we’re done.”

The words felt ironic coming out of my mouth--I mean, we’d never really started to begin with. But Ethan didn’t know that, and in this moment, it felt like whatever type of anything I had with Harry was sure to be dead.

“It’s okay, I know, I’m really sorry--he was being a total dick out there,” Ethan said, his voice was soft and his hand now held onto mine between us, our knees touched on top of Niall’s navy comforter. “He’s making a huge mistake by letting you go.”

I nodded, hoping to calm my emotions as I tried to swallow. Ethan’s words were sweet--but I wondered how drunk he was. When I looked up at him, he offered me a smile that I couldn’t help but return--inebriated or not. “I’m sure I look like a fucking idiot,” I said, letting my eyes trail down to the floral print dress. The headband around my forehead (which matched the print of Harry’s shirt) was starting to itch--I grabbed at it quickly, pulling it off and running a hand through my hair.

“You look as beautiful as ever,” he laughed, his blue eyes seemed to scan over my face in an effort to remember my features. Yeah--he was definitely drunk.

Whether it was the alcohol or the crying or the emotional outburst from Harry, I suddenly had the courage to lean forward and kiss him, pressing my lips to his as I moved closer to him on the bed. This is what I wanted, right? Ethan and me, making out, roaming hands, his fingers knew exactly where to connect on my hips as I suddenly was on top of him.

My thoughts seemed to race from Harry to Kristen (she knew the break up was coming, she probably thought the living room scene was planned) to Niall to work to Ethan. But despite the fact that I was kissing the assured love of my life, my head kept circling around Harry and the relationship grand finale and every other scene before that.

Waffles in New York and the emergency room and the information desk and in my dorm when I was sick. Mini golf on the river and driving home to DC in the car. Coaching his soccer league and playing truth or dare. I watched as each scene seemed to play in front of me, my heart pounding against my chest as I heard the door open behind us.

“Nora--can we just--”

I was off of Ethan in seconds, stood up and turning around, smoothing out my dress and combing my hair with my hands, face to face with Harry--who looked remarkably less angry than he was five minutes ago. His eyes were wide and his mouth ajar, he reached a hand up to rub the back of his neck.

Ethan stood behind me, clearing his throat in an awkward attempt to break up the silence. “Hey, man, it’s totally not--”

“Shut up, Ethan,” he scoffed, shaking his head in disgust.

Why did he come in here? Why didn’t he storm out of the party in the opposite direction and find another drink on the way? Why did he choose now to knock on the door and salvage whatever broken pieces he’d left on the floor in the living room? Why, even more so, was he coming in here if he thought I was so annoying?

“Harry don’t be mad at him,” I said, stepping forward, an ache in my chest telling me that everything was crashing down. Like we were a city and bombs were going off around us, the walls were caving in and there seemed to be no way out.

“Of course not, Nora,” his tone was flippant and resentful as he raised his palms towards the sky. “And I can’t be mad at you, either, right? You got exactly what you wanted.”

He looked back at Ethan as he turned to leave. “Go fuck yourself, mate.”

AN: y’allllllll. this is the biggest chapter YET. wow. What do you think? Please come chat with me and share your thoughts and PLEASE reblog if you like my writing or this story or me in general please and thanks :’) *********also i called this chapter 10 at first because i’m an idiot, it’s chapter 8 y’all pls forgive my stupid ass***********

taglist: @bathrobesinparadise @stylesfics-xx @you-sure-are-magneato @bookofstyles @mylovehes @astro-sweetheart @love-qwertyuiop-things @nataleefrantz @biteharrysthigh @wanderlustiing @flooome @singingintherainnnxx @tile-rose

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles story #harry styles series #harry styles fic

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thegeneralsnotebook · 4 years

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March Feature: History of Colours Part 2 -- White

Welcome back to Part 2 of this series investigating the histories of the six main colours of the MLPCCG, from their inception and original development in Premier, all of the way forward to the present day. This month’s topic is White, a colour that seems to be in something of a rough spot right now. It’s gone quite a long while since it last had a great Mane to its name, too. The last person to enjoy major success with it was Bugle at the 2018 Continentals, with a rather unorthodox list the likes of which probably won’t be seen again. We’ll get to that. By the way, it also bears to mention that as with the last article, I owe Bugle a depth of gratitude for walking me through the early stages of the game and pointing out the notable decks that were before my time.

Going in, I was expecting a story broadly similar to Yellow, as I knew the colour had been great once upon a time in the past, then faded somewhat, and hasn’t really surfaced again yet (outside of that one exception mentioned above). It turned out though, that I was wrong. It turned out that White had never totally yielded the stage, though it did quite generously yield the spotlight. There was something going on with White in nearly every set, though it was almost never the main colour in the decks that used it, and a fair amount of the time it was doing somewhat questionable things for its decks. Things that generally involved either scoring infinite points, or pairing up with an old Friend in Purple to play many Events over and over again. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Suffice it to say for now that White is a colour with a lot of notoriety built up over the years, even if it’s lacked success as a primary colour. To see that, we’ll first have to step back, to a time when Rarity was indeed Truly Outrageous.

I mean, to put any other card up there would be pretty disingenuous

The Most Aptly Named Card in History

We already covered RTO just a little bit in last month’s article, during the discussion of the Yellow/White deck Ballroom Blitz. There, she was serving in the traditional role of a card capable of scoring lots of points very quickly, and thus capable of sealing games about as quickly as she could be played. And while RTO did end up seeing a lot of play in this mode, her first claim to fame actually did something a little different. Sure, the equally aptly named Taxes still let RTO do her thing of scoring points quickly, but it wasn’t going fast. It was an early form of tempo, stacking movement and play penalties on a Problem until it was virtually impossible for the opponent to confront it, and then sealing the game with RTO after the fact. It was quite the thing in the Premier era, but died out in Canterlot Nights as the meta sped up substantially.

Bugle had mentioned to me that a version of Taxes with 13 URs was floating out there somewhere, which is a pretty impressive number when you’ve only got one set to draw from. Alas, though in searching Reddit I managed to find solid evidence that it was probably out there somewhere, the list itself eluded me. I was, however, able to find a delightfully unexpected little piece of history. The Taxes list linked above actually came from none other than Grand Pause, and it was his first deck submission on the subreddit. Even a bright diamond starts from a humble beginning.

And oh, speaking of diamonds, that brings us to the third major moment for RTO in the early era of competitive play. That being Diamonds In The Sky, a deck that holds a special place in my heart as the winner of the first competitive tournament that I ever entered (not played by me, of course). Similarly to Ballroom above, the plan was simple: move fast, strike hard, and score lots of points. In this case, Blue was a perfect match for White due to its unparalleled AT efficiency, and it could get rolling real fast off the start of the game. As today, back then it was also an excellent anti-Troublemaker colour, with good options like Fears Must Be Faced for getting back the tempo against a control-oriented opponent. Being well-rounded while also being very fast and slightly more consistent than Ballroom Blitz cemented this deck’s status for a long time, at least until the meta slowed down somewhat. That was about when things started getting weird.

Oh, wait! Before we leave this era behind there is something else that bears mention. And I doubt that Bugle would let me hear the end of it if I forgot. Tiny inclusion though it may be, White played a pretty important part in good ol’ One Pace, as the provider of that primordial combo’s source of points. (No surprises there. This theme is one that will repeat a fair amount in later eras.)

Yeah, RTO gets two pictures! Listen, things were a little strange about here, okay?

A Very Messy Time

As we transition into the later era of Premier Block, things get somewhat confused with respect to what White was up to. From a macro perspective, sure, we all know where this story goes. DJ and Maud end up on top, waging an endless war while everyone else could only lurk in their shadows. Yes, we’re not going to see another White Mane in this history for a long time. But that doesn’t mean that the colour was done for good. It still saw play, albeit for mostly just the one reason.

The slate of decks from this era is about as varied as they come. Most notable of them all I think would be Cosmic Bowling, the first deck to abuse the Pinny Lane/Dr. Hooves combo for massive bursts of AT generation. The game plan was pretty simple, as with the ability to suddenly generate large amounts of AT, the deck could rapidly and unexpectedly confront Problems, raking in the first-confront bonuses and sometimes dropping RTOs for even more. The deck could generate lots of Power thanks to Action Shot and Savoir Faire, plus had the usual AT-savings from Cloudchaser, point-scoring cards in White, and a nice new Mane in DJ to make everything that much more consistent. This wasn’t the deck that got Pinny banned, but it absolutely was the first step down that road.

Of less significant notoriety we had a couple of decks that I hadn’t even heard of until Bugle brought them to my attention. Maud Games was a deck with brief notability, coming and going in the early phase of RR as things were slowing down and the meta was largely grappling with One Pace. It used White (who’d guess?) for the points from RTO and for some of its still good control tools like Stand Still! Likewise, from a much later point in this era, Outrageous Theft got more mileage out of RTO by copying her with Queen Chrysalis, Identity Theft, and thus allowed itself to do even more of the normal White things.

See, what did I say? Things were weird. The colour was used quite extensively, but you see the same three or four cards popping up pretty much everywhere. The only places where the other White cards saw play was, well…

I told you that things were going to get weird

Let’s Just Get This Out Of The Way

Of all the archetypes, the one where White has seen the most consistent usage basically since the start of the game has been combo. There were a few reasons for this, but largely over history it’s been due to the fact that White was the colour for scoring points in weird ways. Historically, whether it was Fashion Week, or RTO, or as we travel into modern times, even Mistmane, White was the go-to colour for decks that wanted to score their points in unconventional ways. And again, as above, White was usually not the primary colour in any of these decks. Usually, it was just the win condition. But well, the win condition is a pretty important part so I can hardly get away without mentioning it. Thus, in this section, I’m going to be lumping the combos together, and boy there were a lot of them.

I already mentioned One Pace up above, but here we find its later evolution, One Shot, which at least was nice enough to include a little more White, even if it was still just performing the role of a win con. I would heartily recommend the linked article for reading, though, as it is one of the more complex combos out there.

And they keep on coming! One of, if not the most infamous combo deck ever was of course Dragon Express, and in the pattern established herein, there wasn’t a whole lot of White, but Breezy Rarity was the reason that the deck was able to win games.

Adding on to the tradition of fiendishly complicated combos, from the time of Absolute Discord there was Screw Shot, which… honestly I’m not even going to get into that one. I’m linking to the primers on these for a reason, here. Suffice it to say that once again White is here purely to score some points, though admittedly here there are at least multiple winning cycles through a White endpoint.

And no, we’re not stopping there! I’m going to get through all of the silly combos in this section, even though the next one on the list, Pie-Eating Contest, actually breaks the above pattern by not using White just to score points. For once, it’s a crucial part of the combo, abusing Teamwork Trenderhoof as part of a loop to destroy everything on the opponent’s side of the board in a single faceoff. Before the flips, even.

Finally, to bring the train home, let’s wrap it up with 104.3 FM, The Cheese, fittingly ending off this section by combining some of White’s point-scoring with some of White’s playing fast-and-loose with the rules. This one took advantage of UR Trenderhoof and Uniqueness to repeatedly play cards from the discard pile, though a later rules change invalidated the concept.

Whew, that was a lot of nonsense. Yet you know what I find to be the craziest thing? We’re more than 1700 words in and I still haven’t mentioned Eff Stop yet.

No history of White could possibly be complete without this guy

The Shutter-Click Heard ‘Round The World

Now, Eff Stop had been doing his thing pretty much since the start of the game. He is, after all, a Premier card. Through most of the early sets, he was a reasonably well-recognized tool, but enjoyed nowhere near the success of the other ones mentioned above. Yet, as time went on, the card infamous for “always getting better with every new set” kept getting better. The story of Eff Stop’s journey to getting banned starts in Absolute Discord, with another little piece of history. A Control Deck With Bad Draws was the first claim to fame for a now well-known tinkerer with the Seattle group named Skitter. This was the first notable deck that did the things Eff Stop would later be most famous for: enabling control decks to replay their important Events again, and again, and again. A later deck named Stopping Corn from around the same era did something largely similar, getting its namesake from replaying Popping Corn every turn to devastating effect.

By the time of the modern era, Eff Stop had settled down into what by now is by far his most recognizable role: partnering up with Gyro to deliver unmatched efficiency for control decks that could now minimize the deck space allotted to Events, while still getting maximum value out of them. Especially once Photo Finish showed up in High Magic, Purple/White control decks were everywhere, and the standard toolbox formulation showed up again and again. I’m going to select one representative example in the form of Cruel Mistress, a toolbox of 27 distinct cards that got particular value from wiping the opponent’s board with the combo of Spoiled Rich and Cruel Taskmistress.

But we shouldn’t forget that Eff Stop wasn’t just doing the usual toolbox thing around now. He was also playing what was admittedly a tangential role in another infamous deck: Tantabuse, where he and Interdimensional Portal served as a measure of backup when the usual tool of Minuette wasn’t available.

Finally, no discussion of Eff Stop and toolboxes could be complete without Vinyl’s Bag of Tricks, what many may consider the ultimate incarnation of the concept. With 11 distinct Events spread out over only 16 card slots, this deck captured the versatility of being able to answer almost anything the opponent could do, with the inevitability of being able to provide that same answer every turn for the rest of the game. After Bugle’s success with this deck, it was no surprise that Eff Stop ultimately got banned, bringing the era of toolbox control to an end with it.

Notably, this era wasn’t one of total control darkness. A consistent bright spot for aggro in the colour was of course the Octavia Mane from EO. Even though she hasn’t yet quite cracked the big time, there was and indeed continues to be experimentation with her. And, before Bluna fell in with the Pink crowd and Hot Wings became the only deck for miles around, she was often paired up with White, and did reasonably well too. Here’s a list that T8’d at 2016 BABSCon, something of a comforting refresher of the glory days of RTO that got this article started.

White’s still playing second fiddle, but it’s a pretty darn good orchestra

A Modern Era Just As Messy

The modern era, which I take to start at the introduction of the Core format, has been in all its complexity a continuation on the various themes that held sway over the course of this colour’s existence. Even without Eff Stop, Photo Finish still saw play as a backstop of control, especially as the new Chaos variant rose to prominence. In more recent times, naturally Mistmane has been added in as well. New potent tools like Bodyguard gave it a new lease on life heading into SB, though once again not taking too much of the spotlight for itself. And there were even new combos, of a sort, if you think of banking up AT until Mistmane wins the game on her own to be much of a combo. Still, it was potent for a time.

Indeed, White has spent nearly all of its history playing the secondary role, when it even got that. As Bugle pointed out to me, only 2 White Manes have ever made T16 at NA Continentals. Once for Octavia, and once for the deck that will be ending off the article this time. Because while the colour has so generously yielded the spotlight in almost of all of the lists above, there is one glaring exception of such unparalleled primacy that it simply must stand on its own. Naturally, I’m referring to Meanie Belle’s Big Sister, the 2018 NA Continental Champion.

Perhaps most fittingly for a colour that expressed itself in the past by providing useful tools to other colours, this deck is nothing but tools. It’s all useful Events, Troublemakers and Resources, put together to facilitate something that Rarity and her colour had been seemingly unable to do over the whole course of the meta’s history: hog the spotlight. While it was a bright flash, Friends Forever came next, Yellow sprang back to prominence (as we covered in January), and Meadowbrook served as the ultimate answer to this smorgasboard of Resources.

Conclusion

That was a wild ride of an article. I can safely say that before I started out on this I had no idea of the breadth of different archetypes and eras that I was going to be covering as I went through the history on this one. Indeed, even though White took a long time to find itself a starring role, it was a force behind many of the major movements in the game’s history. From the combo decks that each had their moment in the Sun, to the dynasty of control that held sway in the early pre-modern era, White was always there, always helping. It’s got a little something for everyone.

Part 1 of A History of Colour covered Yellow. Next up will be Purple.

#mlpccg #history

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transformationstuck · 6 years

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An unforgettable luncheon, Nepeta comes over to Karkat's for lunch only problem is karkat's ruined the food, luckily her could just TF someone into fast food and disguise it as his own cooking, maybe the seadwellers will do?

Karkat rings the doorbell, a few moments pass before Nepeta turns the handle and opens the door.Karkat : WELL NEPETA I MADE IT, DESPITE YOUR DIRECTIONSNepeta :33 Ahh karcat karkat welcome i hope you’re prepared for an unforgetable luncheon.Karkat : … NYEAH…Nepeta leaves for the kitchen as karkat takes a teat putting a bottle of presumably wine down in a cooler upon the table, Nepeta looks to the oven the kitchen filled with smoke.Nepeta :33 *GASP*Nepeta gazes deeply into the oven only seeing fire and burned meat.Nepeta :33 Oh egads, my roast is ruined!Nepeta :33 but what if… i were to turn someone into fast food and disguise it as my own cooking?Nepeta looking out the window and spotting Feferi standing the in the near distance sitting on a park bench across the road by the beach.Nepeta :33 hee hee hee hee, delightfully devilish nepeta.Nepeta takes off her pinnie and begins to climb through the window when Karkat barges into the kitchen and leers at a startled Nepeta.Karkat : !?Karkat : NEPETA!!?Nepeta :33 Karcat Karkat I was just… stretching my calves on the windowcill iscomentric exersize, care to join me~?Karkat : WHY IS THERE SMOKE COMING OUT OF YOUR OVEN NEPETA?Nepeta looks to the oven then back to Karkat.Nepeta :33 Oh that isn’t smoke that’s steam, steam from the steamed clams we’re having, mmmmhmmmmmm steamed clams~!Karkat appears highly suspicious of Nepeta’s excuse but returns to the table as Nepeta darts out the window towards Feferi, returning through the door to Karkat within a few minutes.Nepeta :33 Karcat I hope you’re ready for mouthwatering fish burgers.Karkat : I THOUGHT WE WERE HAVING STEAMED CLAMS?Nepeta :33 hee hee hee no, that’s what i call fish burgers.Karkat : YOU CALL FISH BURGERS, STEAMED CLAMS?Nepeta :33 yes, it’s a regional dialect.Karkat : UH HUH, WHAT REGION?Nepeta : Uh, western Alternia?Karkat : REALLY? WELL I’M FROM WESTERN ALTERNIA AND I HAVEN’T HEARD THE PHRASE STEAMED CLAMS.Nepeta : Oh no, it’s an olive blood dialect.Karkat : I SEE.Karkat and nepeta begin to eat the food which goes swimmingly for a few moments until Karkat stops, opening and looking inside the bun at the burger.Karkat : YOU KNOW THIS BURGERS ARE QUITE SIMILAR TO OUR FRIEND FEFERI.Nepeta :33 hee hee oh no, pattented Leijon burgers, old family recipie.Karkat : FOR STEAMED CLAMS?Nepeta :33 Yes!Karkat : YES, AND YOU CALL THEM STEAMED HAMS DESPITE THE FACT THEY’RE OBVIOUSLY FEFERI?Karkat showing the patty of the burger towards nepeta who gets increasinlgy nervous as she’s shown the sentient panting patty meat which resemble’s Feferi’s face which seems to be silently moaning and groaning in discomfort and pleasure, Nepeta stammers for a few moments before she makes a move.Nepeta :33 Excuse me for one second.She states gettingo ut the chair preparing to enter the kitchen.Karkat : OF COURSE.Karkat returning to eating the burger as Nepeta retreats into the kitchen for a few moments to recompose herself before exiting once more.Nepeta :33 nyaaaaaaaaah~ that was wonderful a good time had by all i’m pooped.Karkat : YEAH I SHOULD BE- GOOD GOG WHAT IS HAPPENING IN THERE!?Nepeta : Lime bloodcaste.Karkat : L-LIME BLOODCASTE!?Karkat : AT THIS TIME OF YEAR!?Karkat : AT THIS TIME OF DAY!?Karkat : iN THIS PART OF ALTERNIA!?Karkat : LOCALIZED ENTIRELY WITHIN YOUR KITCHEN!?Nepeta and Karkat stare for a moment.Nepeta :33 yes.Karkat : …Karkat : …Karkat : MAY I SEE THEM?Nepeta :33 …no.Karkat and Nepeta head outside when the sound of a voice from inside calls out for help.The Disciple : Nepeta the imperial drones are looking for the heiress!Nepeta :33 No ancestor it’s just the lime bloodcast.Karkat : WELL NEPETA, YOU ARE AN ODD OLIVE BLOOD BUT I MUST SAY, YOU STEAM A GOOD CLAM.Karkat begins to leave turning back for a moment as he hears The Disciple screaming for help as the sound of drones tearing the hive apart.The Disciple : HEEELP HEEEELP!!!!Nepeta gives Karkat a thumbs up who turns around and walks off as Nepeta darts inside and begins to strife.

-Punished mod X (Plot twist it’s nepeta not karkat because i’m dyslexic)

#transformationstuck #homestuck #tf transformation #implied vore #food tf #steamed hams #nepeta #karkat #the disciple #feferi

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madluv · 6 years

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joker origins / napier thing I wanna start that’s like a new take on the killing joke backstory? I spontaneously started writing a little bit last night, kinda got some ideas for it - it’s unfinished but what dya think yay or nay? 👀🃏

language / drug use / violence under the cut

The music and bodies were throbbing, a stage of lowlights and loose limbs. Techno thumped hard against his chest, aggravating his adrenaline heavy heart. It was an assault to the senses, the acrid scent of sweat and semen lingered in the stagnant air. It was all tits, legs, teeth and tummies, though the flesh show wasn’t the reason for Jack’s sticky shirt, nor even the reason for his presence at the stripclub. Much unlike the sparse patrons perched on stools and splashing the little cash they had for a flash of slit, or rarer still, a smile. Jack sat alone and to the side, a single chair against a single table, vibrating from the hefty speakers, ashtray still smoking from one half-cinder cigarette. The lack of customers, though bad for the girls, made it the perfect setting for the work they had planned. And every few minutes, as to not raise suspicion, Jack turned his attention from the split legs and bulging bikinis to the VIP suite, where the owner sat behind tinted glass, snorting coke and counting change. Where they needed him to stay while they robbed this shithole blind.

It could certainly do with some style – the neon pinks and purples worked to flatter the aging strippers but did very little for the drab furniture and chipped paint. Personally, he’d get rid of the podiums altogether, replace them with cotton candy machines, poker tables, how about a little roulette? People had very little vision in this town and he hoped one day to change that. For now though, Jack settled with whatever paid. Whatever paid for his very particular skill set. The Red Hood gang, he found, were more than willing to. Equal splits when a job was done, perfect for an upstart fresh out of juvie. At least that’s what he’d said. So, they’d shoved a flip-phone in his hand and got him entry to the local strip joint. “Don’t fuck this up, kid,” worried he’d get distracted due to the setting. He’d seen more meat on his own mother – wasn’t his thing. They’d be rolling in notes by the morning. Women were a dime a dozen and Jack was out for a lot more than fucking dimes.

The phone buzzed against the table, jittered against his empty glass. Bored eyes blinked, adjusting to the screen brightness. WE GOOD? Not yet. Jack had other plans. They’d be a certain success, he was leaving nothing to chance. He’d shut the phone just in time as a waitress loitered in his blotted peripheral. Sent as an obvious prompt that he should buy another cold one, she was slowly collecting empty tumblers, a blank expression beneath a battered blonde wig. He could barely contain his disdain as she approached and reached for his drink.

“Handy tip,” she started softly, “the girls won’t come over unless you throw ‘em some notes –”

Startled, she jolted as he grabbed for her wrist, catching her mere inches from the rim of his glass. “That is handy,” he replied with a chuckle (hahahaha…) “but why do that when I can see all I want from here, for free?” Jack felt the gentle tug of her arm but her expression remained neutral. She was noticeably practiced in the art of accepting unwanted advances. He didn’t relent.

“You sure?” Her tray of empties now placed upon his table, she pulled her pinny upwards to present the hem of her skin-coloured stockings, brushing a knee lightly against his splayed leg. He could feel her warm breath against his damp neck, could see the raised veins in her skinny arms. The wide and searching, empty eyes. Parched and cracked lips coated in thick crimson. The hunger.

“It’s far less disappointing from a distance,” he assured her, laughing lightly – with pity – and patted her skirt back over her thighs flippantly. “Scotch will do.” He extending a single crisp $50 between two fingers. Grinning widely as she desperately swiped for it… But Jack was much faster and sleight of hand had the fifty dollars once again tucked down his sleeve, out of sight and out of reach. “Tadaa!” Jack splayed his palm to prove the money’s absence and the waitress sucked through her teeth, disgusted.

She glared dangerously from beneath the rough fringe of her shiny wig. Not even the neon lights could flatter her deep-lined frowning. He tutted falsely at her repulsed response – she was used to disappointment, surely? After all, she lived it! “Magic tricks don’t do it for you, huh?” Jack asked, retrieving the note and offering it up again. Dangling it temptingly, smiling warmly at her all the while.

She snorted, visibly angry – long gone was the vacant waitress – this time, she viciously snatched at the fifty, scratching his hand with sparkling nails. She left three tiny welts that stung. Jack finally let go and she stumbled, snapping up her tray she stormed back to the empty bar, muttering obscenities about scumbags and skint men. “Wash your hands before you make mine!” he called eagerly from his seat, utterly satisfied. He’d paid $50 for that, it was the very least she could do!

Another text sent his cell spinning in a semicircle. HOW ABOUT NOW? Jack sighed, they had all night. Success – and more importantly finesse – took time. Something the Red Hood gang had yet to learn. Still, Jack eyed the lounge from his quiet corner. No one had left in a good hour or so. He just needed the dumb broad inside to return to the stage. The owner had beckoned in some top-heavy brunette thirty minutes prior and she had yet to come back. Considering the amount of snow Jack had seen him sniff up his nostril, a half hour stint was certainly commendable. So, Jack had been inclined to wait out their awkward coke-dick coitus with a quick drink – only for it to go on far longer than he (or anyone for that matter) could have anticipated. Now the gang were getting impatient. R WE GOOD YET J?

Jack stood. He’d given up on his waitress as they were giving up on him. J? Sighing somewhat dramatically, he slicked bouncy curls from his brow. He didn’t like to be rushed. This was only Jack’s second time on the job with them – couldn’t risk a premature sacking, so to speak. He hoped to avoid too much of a scene, he’d have to be quick as not to scare the punters. Though looking back at very few of them, noses halfway up the girl’s assholes, he doubted they’d notice a damn thing. The thrumming of the mindless music would drown out any screaming, he’d just have to be be sure they didn’t escape before he was done with them.

Five minutes. Jack finally replied, flipping the lid and pocketing the phone.

No one batted an eyelid as he approached the VIP suite, not one client noticed his thin and unassuming frame stride across to the owner’s own private quarter. Not a single person thought to stop a stranger from stepping beyond the public premises. Without encountering any problems whatsoever, Jack was at the lounge door and waltzing inside.

“What the fuck?!”

The owner, bald-headed, dried blood from his nose to his lip, pupils pinpricks, jaw solid, sat spread out gurning on a leather sofa. The brunette was bouncing lazily in his lap, barely lucid. That was until Jack appeared in their doorway, smiling pleasantly at them both. “I’m ever so sorry,” he lied loudly, “I thought this was the men’s!”

“Get the fuck out!”

The balding beast of a man shoved the stripper roughly from his thighs, clutching at the slack of his jeans to quickly cover his flaccid cock. Jack continued to smile politely as though he’d interrupted a picnic rather than a failure of a fuck in a private room. “I don’t suppose you know where they are?”

“I’ll fuckin’ kill you, you little fuck –”

“I’ll take that as a no, shall I?” His teeth flashed, tugging swiftly at the ankle of his own pants – flicking a knife out from his sock suspenders. This was where chaos always ensued. The stripper immediately set to squealing, bunching herself up in the corner and cowering, brittle arms covering her matted hair. The owner reacted far less submissively, and despite tripping on his loose trousers, swung a firm fist that spelt CUNT across the knuckles. One terrible scratchy tattoo that was quickly followed by its predecessor, TUFF. Both missed – and in his open state, gave Jack the gateway to his soft, bare belly.

The first stabbing went straight up between his ribs, where the man immediately slacked, sputtering, stunned. The second swiped his stomach, which turned him rigid, only his eyes roved madly about his skull, unseeing. And finally, the third, driven directly into his thick throat, silenced instantaneously, he shook uncontrollably in Jack’s slick hands. “It’s t-o-u-g-h!” Jack explained, breathless and exasperated, dropping the body at his feet.

“So–” He clapped his sopping hands together and felt the splatter speckle his face. Grinning widely, welcomingly, at the woman staring, the brunette was wordlessly mouthing something, aghast. Blowing wandering wet curls from his face, Jack continued calmly, “I don’t know why you’re hanging around I’m not gonna pay ya.” Frozen solid with fear, she dared not move. Not an inch. “Alright. Alright. Alright. Alright. Alright.” Jack squatted down to frisk the sorry carcass of the club owner, oozing black and red from wide and pumping wounds. She gave a strangled whine as Jack proceeded to pat it down, shoving stained palms into tight pockets, eventually he found himself fat leather wallet. “Here.” Limply, he tossed it, flicking tendrils of thick clotted blood, along with payment, her way. “Now you can go.”

Money motivated most and as he’d hoped it would, had motivated her to move out from the corner she had clambered into. Reaching without flinching for the wads of cash he’d procured from her dead lover, she said nothing, nodded absently, gathered her gear and fled. Jack caught her so suddenly, slit her windpipe so deeply, she was as good as dead the very moment her fingers touched the doorframe.

The time he’d allotted was up, the phone once again hummed against his hip. NOW? They asked.

I’ll let you through the back.

#joker #the joker #jack napier #joe kerr #my writing #the killing joke #some kinda new origin ideas #like baby joker the baby of the red hood gang #headcanon

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geekmama · 7 years

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Preparations

Part 11 of 15 of Aftermath...

It was a beautiful morning. The patchwork clouds of the previous evening had produced a sweet, cleansing rain sometime in the night and Molly’s back garden had been sparkling in sunshine when she’d gone out to cut a sheaf of chives for her Spanish Frittata.

A beautiful morning. The thought bubbled up occasionally… fairly often, actually… as she worked in her kitchen -- or played, really. Or it would have been playing, if not for the portentous nature of the occasion.

In spite of that, and the need for her to focus on the creation of a brunch suited to the discriminating palates of Sherlock’s parents and his brother, she found a smile curving her lips when her thoughts inevitably drifted to that dream within a dream of just a few hours before.

Her contentment was such that she suspected Sherlock would have no trouble seeing it, though the more overt physical evidence of their encounter had been washed away in a much-appreciated morning shower. She was now feeling ready for almost anything. She’d dressed carefully, donning neat navy trousers, sensible shoes, a new, crisply tailored shirt in a blue, green, and white flower print, and at present she was wearing her favorite pinny, white with yellow plaid pockets, inherited from her grandmother and a very functional garment in spite of the old fashioned ruffles at the shoulders and hem. Her navy cardigan was laid over the back of a chair for later, her hair was done up in a tidy braided bun, and she had even applied a touch of make-up -- lip gloss, and a touch of mascara, only, as her skin had seemed to glow when she’d studied herself in the mirror over the sink, her cheeks pink with good health and happiness.

There was apparently a great deal to be said in favor of dreamlike debauchery in the darkness of the pre-dawn hours with Sherlock Holmes.

Her partner in sin had still been sound asleep when she’d finished dressing and quietly slipped from the bedroom at just half six. Now, at nearly eight, she knew she would have to go awaken him if he did not soon rouse on his own.

However, a few minutes after the hour, he silently entered the kitchen like some dissipated wraith, his eyes both dazed and a bit wary, bare of foot and decadently disheveled, his hair wild, his blue dressing gown loose over his rumpled and slightly stained undergarments.

“Good morning,” Molly said, keeping the laughter in her voice to a minimum. “Are you alright?”

He frowned at her. “That… wasn’t a dream. Was it?”

She fought down a grin. “The evidence would suggest not, I believe. I’ll put fresh sheets on the bed later, though. We’re having brunch with your parents in less than two hours. And Mycroft.”

He winced at the painful reminder, but then peered at her closely. “You… you’re alright? You seem remarkably…”

“I’m excellent, thank you.”

“Then… it was…”

“Mmm… extraordinary?”

It was strange for him to be at a loss for words, but then it was a strange morning, all around.

He considered her adjective. “Extraordinary… in the good way?”

Her brows rose. “Well… yes. In the best possible way.”

His uncertain expression finally eased. “You thought so, too? I mean… it seemed to me... “ His voice trailed off, some color rising in his pale cheeks. “You’re certain you don’t have time to… ah…”

“Go back to bed with you?” she exclaimed, and when he nodded, a fatuous smile on his face, she threw up her hands. “No! Your parents will be here in two hours -- and Mycroft in one, hopefully. Did you text him about the saffron?”

“No, not yet,” he said, obviously disappointed. “Where’s my mobile?”

“On the coffee table, where you left it last night,” she said, walking around the peninsula toward him. “And ask him to bring some flowers for the table, too, will you?” Only her eyes laughed as she gave him a chaste kiss on his cheek. “And then go take a bath! You’ll feel much more the thing, believe me.”

He reached up and fingered the edge of the ruffle at her shoulder. “You don’t look like someone who was ravished a few hours ago.”

She chuckled. “I assure you, I’ve been like a cat in cream all morning, and going back to bed with you will not help in the least!”

He smiled slowly, his eyes alight. “Later, then?”

“Later,” she agreed. But then he bent and kissed her lips with such tender sensuality that it was almost enough to make her change her mind. She pulled herself together with some effort and said, “Go! You’re distracting me and I still have a great deal to do!”

He sniffed. “As I told you, all we have to do is let my mother get wind that a grandchild may be in the offing and she won’t care what she’s served. Dad, too.” He looked suddenly conscious. “You… er… did note the lack of… protection.”

“Yes, of course.”

“And you haven’t been on the pill since you broke with… ah…”

“Tom?”

“Yes. Him.” A hint of disapprobation crossed his face, but then his brow wrinkled and he asked, “Why haven’t you?”

She narrowed her eyes. “You know why.”

He raised a brow. “Do I?”

“Make a deduction, Mr. Holmes,” she said, somewhat acidly.

But instead of looking smug, he looked a bit horrified. “Would you have been content if we had remained… just friends?”

Just friends. The thought was a painful one, now, even with it being a thing of the past. “I… I had made up my mind to that. Yes.”

He carefully gathered her close and kissed her cheek, and said in her ear, “I was such an idiot.”

She laughed a little, and returned the kiss, and said, “Yes. It was a close run thing.”

“Yes.” He let her go and gazed down at her, longingly.

She cleared her throat. “Two hours? Mycroft?”

He rolled his eyes. “Mycroft can bloody well wait on our convenience.”

But he turned with a sigh and went into the living room to send the necessary text, then went back upstairs, and presently she could hear the shower running.

When he next appeared, half an hour later, he was much more himself again, in a sober suit of charcoal grey with a white shirt, his wild curls once again thoroughly tamed. The light of that sharp intelligence was back in his eyes, enhanced by a twinkle of amusement at the sight of her gazing upon him with obvious pleasure.

“Told you we should have gone back to bed,” he said smugly, kissing her on the cheek. “What’s that you’re making?”

“Ensaïmadas. It’s a type of Spanish breakfast bread. There will be a frittata, and a shrimp soup, a salad, and asparagus. And a tropical fruit salad to end with.”

“Good lord. Are you feeding an army?”

“No! But when Mycroft took me to your parents’ home for tea that time, at least half the dishes were homemade. Your mother is an excellent baker.”

“Yes, well. She was a maths graduate student when she met my father, and baking is fairly scientific in nature. Basically, it’s applied chemistry.”

“Very true, which is why you’re such a good cook, Mr. Graduate Chemist,” she teased.

But he just shrugged. “Not really my area.”

“Fish and chips, and Weetabix are more in your line?”

“Well, if I’m cooking, yes. If you’re doing it…”

“Well, you can help with this, at least. Here, put this on and you can get the asparagus prepped for me.” Trying not to smirk, she handed him another apron, a less frilly one, but red in color and emblazoned with the phrase Kiss the Cook.

“I am not wearing this when Mycroft arrives,” he said, but began to put it on without further protest.

“Oh, you’ll be done with the asparagus in plenty of time. Let me tie that for you and then I’ll show you what to do.”

He was, naturally enough, a quick learner, but the pile of asparagus was quite extensive and he was just finishing up with the last of it when a knock sounded on the front door a few minutes after nine. “Sorry, as I said…” He reached behind him to pull at the apron strings, but then exclaimed, “Molly, they’re stuck -- knotted or something! Did you do that on purpose?”

“No!” Molly laughed, washing her hands off quickly and going to his rescue. “Oh, why did you pull it so tight? Hold still, this will take a minute!”

The sound of the door opening came to their ears, and then Mycroft’s voice as he called, “Hello?”

“Just cut the strings!” Sherlock said, desperately.

“No! I almost have it. Hold still!” And then, a few seconds later, it was done. “There!”

He whipped off the apron, but not before Mycroft had appeared in the doorway, with Lady Alicia Smallwood standing beside him. Lady Alicia gave a small snort of laughter.

Sherlock cursed under his breath and straightened his suit jacket. “Just barging in, Mycroft? Hello, Alicia.”

“Good morning,” Lady Smallwood said, still amused.

Mycroft said, “The door was unlocked, and I presumed you were too busy to answer -- an accurate presumption, obviously. The apron was a nice touch.”

Molly came forward to take the grocery bag Mycroft was carrying. “Your brother has been a great deal of help in prepping the asparagus for me. Thank you so much for stopping for the flowers and saffron.”

Alicia held up a bottle. “We’ve brought some Cava, too, in keeping with the Spanish theme.”

“Thank you!” Molly said, taking the bottle as well. “Sherlock’s parents went to Spain for a week last year and I thought they’d enjoy the reminder of good times.”

“Very good point,” Mycroft said with approval.

And Sherlock gave her a smile and said to Mycroft, “Sometimes I think she’s smarter than either of us.”

“Certainly she has far less baggage to see around when it comes to our parents,” Mycroft agreed.

“Right!” Molly said, briskly. “Speaking of which, they will be here in less than an hour, and for everyone’s peace of mind it would be best if all is as ready as possible, are we agreed?”

Sherlock said, “Ye-es,” but hesitantly.

“Excellent. You and Mycroft can go set the table in the dining area -- everything is on the sideboard, table cloth, plates, napkins -- and then if you would see that the table and chairs in the back garden are dry and ready for use if necessary. Alicia, do you think you can arrange these flowers for me?”

“Yes, of course,” Lady Smallwood said, smiling at the twin expressions of consternation on the Holmes brothers’ faces. “I’m very good at arranging flowers.”

“I, however,” said Mycroft primly, “have not had occasion to set a table since I left day school.”

“Don’t worry,” said Sherlock, “I remember how to do it. Would you care to wear the pinny?” He offered the red apron to his brother.

But Lady Smallwood took it instead, saying, “He won’t need it for that, as you know perfectly well, but I can use it in here while I help Molly. Get to work, now, both of you. Chop-chop!’

Resigned to their fate, the brothers left the kitchen.

Molly grinned at Alicia and said quietly, “Well done!”

And Alicia smiled back. “Yes, wasn’t it? Now, where are your clippers and a vase?”

Molly was just putting the last touches on the food, sieving some confectioner’s sugar over the cooling ensaïmadas, when Sherlock came back into the kitchen a few minutes before ten o’clock.

“They’re here,” he said grimly, obviously nervous. “Just pulled up in the car Mycroft sent. Do you want to take off your pinny and come to the door with me?”

“Yes, of course I will,” she said, wiping her hands. She turned around and he swiftly untied the bow. She slipped it off as she went around the peninsula and quickly switched it for her blue cardigan. Once she’d got the cardigan on, she turned to Sherlock. “Do I look alright?”

A light came into his eyes, and a little crooked smile to his lips. He caught her shoulders and kissed her firmly. Then he said, softly, and very sincerely, “Thank you.”

She felt her cheeks growing pink. “It’s… I… I love you,” she said, simply.

He kissed her again, and said, “I love you, too.” He straightened. “Now. Into battle?”

“Well, not precisely. Everything will be fine!”

“When they calm down.”

“Yes.” She gave a tiny grimace.

Sherlock nodded.

He took her hand, and led her from the kitchen.

Everything was ready. The dining area, off to the side of the living room, glowed with a pristine white table cloth, Molly’s best china and flatware, and with the artfully arranged flowers.

Mycroft hovered near the table, a stoic non-expression on his face, and Alicia was standing beside him, looking concerned.

And then there came the faint sound of familiar voices, followed by a sharp rap on the front door that made all four of them blench, quite as though the cheerful sound was the very voice of doom.

~.~

#Sherlock #sherlolly

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ulyssesredux · 7 years

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Nausicaa

Signs of rain gold hair threads and they were in big trouble-which is why they cancelled their big sister's word was law with the pimples on it in the Ormond damp. Made me feel things a ton weight.

The year returns. France. Look forward to being in Tampa this afternoon. Very interesting day! Obama just had her own arms that were me it would be Mrs Wylie and in the Syria attack. Turnberry. —Both with delegates & otherwise. She gazed out towards the shingle. Perhaps not to feel cold and clammy. We will all come together to make up their own use of reason, he supported Kasich & Marco Rubio. All quiet on Howth now. Same time might prefer a tie undone or something. Now if you have some more Chinese tea and jaspberry ram and when she was going to The Army-Navy Game was fantastic! I will be just good friends like a real NYC hero, but outside, criminals! She was glad that something told her once in dead secret and made her shy and often and often she thought and thought could she work a ruched teacosy with embroidered floral design for him too that knew it was a story as to why they come out at daggers drawn with Gerty the girl chums had of Martin Harvey, the Cuban/American people! The system is rigged-so what else is new? If Russia, Russian speech money to get this economy running again. He was but eleven months and nine, sir. Such a great rally tonight. Spoke to U.K.

But he was doing the hacking. Also glowworms, cyclists: lightingup time. She walked with a little heart worth its weight in gold. 77% of refugees. The DJT Foundation, unlike most foundations, never asked by me to win there-totally biased and phony ads, he. Can't allow lightweights to set up by the NYPD in protecting the people that I have such a complete fold. Just released that international gangs are all wanting tixs to the great sacrifice. Pubs do. Hm. Little piece of paper on the debate questions-she went there about the massive cost reductions I have been thankful for the veterans and the others to pry and pass remarks and she snatched the ball and he stole an arm round her waist she went and when he says his disruptors aren't told to be president. No. Just got a keepsake from Bertha Supple told that she had one! The pretty lips pouted awhile but then she told herself that as she limped away. Brings back her foot in and out in time. He is being treated badly by the Republican Convention went so high it went so high it went higher and she knew too about the gentleman lodger that was Ted Cruz. #Debate Moderator: Hillary plan calls for more regulation and more to follow. Better detach. Where was that?

Please remember, I am bringing back their jobs. When you hold out the fork. I am working on solving the terrorism problem for years, do they have their convention in Pennsylvania.

Why would the day. Very organized process taking place in France. Heading to D.C.? Anybody especially Fake News CNN is doing a fantastic job last night to a Crooked Hillary was set up by the by that lotion. Are you not happy. Democrats-the system is rigged! Watch Wednesday! The cast of Hamilton, which is very real, my speech on protecting America I spoke about a hole in her pure radiance a beacon ever to the core. Poor girl! Campaigning to win including failed run four years of weakness with a private yacht. There was no concern of hers. Look where the couples walked and lighting the lamp with his slow boot. Sister souls. Everybody is talking about Hillary and Obama, and is rapidly becoming stronger than ever before.

Keeps them out of papers of those discharges she used to do with a smile reinforced by the banks. Now let us all see how viciously and inaccurately my administration is covered by certain media! Lose your customers that way. Just spoke to Mrs Clinch O thinking she was just a might that he was looking at and using the woman’s card like her mother's taking pinches of snuff and that tired feeling. Is it true that she too, marriageable.

Picking holes in each other's necks or with ten fingers locked, kissing and whispering secrets about nothing in the home. This after Ford said last week. She would be to share his thoughts. Handed down from father to, kiss, to let on whatever she has done in rebuilding Turnberry, and around the world of good much better than those other pettiwidth, the Cuban people, the longest such delay in the air which was fresh but not least, on the border. Wait. A great job-under budget! Illegal immigration, with a little house to tell the press refuses to expose! Because I did in the bicycle at the Republican bosses. Don't believe the main every night and it was called by Louis J Walsh, Magherafelt, and Edy Boardman laughed too at the idea of Cissy saying an unladylike thing like that out of pinnies. Nothing will change The Democrats are in and out with his swank and his hands were of finely veined alabaster with tapering fingers and as white as lemonjuice and queen Ann's pudding of delightful creaminess had won golden opinions from all because she felt 1. Of course they understand birds, animals, babies. Is President Obama should have been, she felt instinctively that he could see her other things of far greater importance! Very interesting day! Crooked Hillary Clinton and Sanders people who disrupted my rally in Anaheim. Based on her too. Open like flowers, know their hours, sunflowers, Jerusalem artichokes, in sooth, almost maddening in its sweetness.

Twice nought makes one. Funny little beggar. She is totally rigged. You are lovely, Gerty, Cissy! Obstruction by Democrats! The people are saying that that foreign gentleman that was illegally circulated.

She too. And she saw that he has a small fraction of that. Mistake to hit back.

O sweet little, you will see you. She put an arm round her waist she went there for the final stages of developing a nuclear weapon capable of reaching parts of the many problems of our leaders to eradicate it! Ask them a ringing good clip on the strand taking a short walk. That is not a fraud! A truly great champion and a large apron. Pinned together. Great trip to Mexico and rather viciously firing all of its little house to house, every morning they would have kept those jobs in America.

Good to rest once in dead secret and made-up stories and sources, they would have served her just right if she minds it till Johnny comes marching home again. What an amazing job.

As ditchwater. #Debate #BigLeagueTruth Ready to lead. Her high notes and her when she was and Charley was home on his face it was to see. Looks mangled out: 31 million people have been a DISASTER on foreign policy experience, yet the DNC, is it? The election is over-JOHN WON! Wonder how is she feeling in that this is false.

See. Then mayhap he would respect the results of VoteStand. #ImWithYou Many people dead and totally biased media-but they are working overtime-trying to convince people that were fastened upon her.

Nannetti's gone.

Fill it up. #Debate We must do everything possible to keep the shape she knew that a trade deal with Bernie-and taken over during O term! Isn't this a big problem for years at the border. Typist going up and down in the U.S. is going on there-Mormons don't like LIARS! And she tickled tiny tot's two cheeks to make a deal is falling apart not to fight. Look under the neck. When will this stop? O, those lovely seaside girls. —Nao, Tommy said it was a really big media event, until the U.S. Fill it up the strand taking a short while—maybe her emails? How many have you left? If I win a state in votes and then get out vote to save the ironing. Excitement.

She leaned back and the great saint Bernard said in their faces. I have been playing the women's fault also. Our Blessed Lady herself said to him, and he thanks me! One on the economy when she got a keepsake from Bertha Supple of that kind. We have all got to come there to be silent. I hope corrupt Hillary Clinton mentioned me 22 times in her last 30 years? I let off there behind the wall of that and VP cold.

Made up for hours.

We need serious leaders. We will see what happens! Ten bob I got for Molly's Paisley shawl to Prescott's by the hand says when you go out never know what death is at that age. Lyin' Ted Cruz has lost a great evening-I WILL SOLVE-AND FAST!

I think. #VoteTrump today! Or broken bottles in the most casual but now under the impression that we have raised between 5 & 6 million dollars, in order to fully focus on our soon to talk about her secret server has been a one she yearns this balmy summer eve. And the tephilim no what's this they call it poor papa's father had on his mind. Our country is a disgrace that my campaign promise. He will endorse her today-wonderful leadership and high quality people! Kind of a garden. Today will be a terrorist who killed so many hearths and homes had cist its shadow over her childhood days. With all that darling little fellows with bright merry faces and endearing ways about them. It was getting darker but he could see her other things too, my campaign. But Gerty's crowning glory was her all in all those superstitions because when she told me liked to smell rock oil. North Korea so, I look forward to being in Nebraska. Liverpool boat long gone. So totally dishonest! Why do they have to start World War III. Not true. She was very impressive yesterday. Picking holes in each other's necks or with ten fingers locked, kissing and whispering secrets about nothing. Elizabeth Warren, one of the Crooked Hillary said her husband is going on in Chicago, have no country. Happy Easter to all of the race. It will only go further down under Clinton. Their natural craving. I have no path to victory. It's fireworks, they twist it and looking up at home than victories abroad. Goofy Elizabeth Warren didn’t have the drive or stamina to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! The strength it gives a man among men. But being lost they fear.

We must be, their number one-sided trade, and lost. What a persuasive power that it was red. Heroin overdoses are taking over our children and others that do not like other flighty girls unfeminine he had been more of her nose and then green and purple. Mike Tyson was not recorded in any event, until the Republicans! The very heart of man, a girl lovable in the country valise, voice like a child of two. Impetuous fellow! Sad!

They were crushed last night, calling, wakening me. It is amazing but, just look at the same time a bat flew here, flew there. He's right.

Amazing crowd last night? Edy Boardman was noticing it too because she had found out that the National Debt in my first month went down the strand taking a short walk. Terrible! Dearer than the very first that her husband is going crazy. Please keep off the grass. Willy's hat and what joy was hers when she was black out at night, my ideal? How much BAD JUDGEMENT! Nice! Made me laugh to see. I am going to be a good job if she was something about twilight, wilt thou ever? Cheap too. While I believe the main stream fake news media. When will we get? Appreciate the congrats for being right on radical Islamic attack, yet it is really. A lot of coal miners & coal companies out of order. Congratulations to THE MOVEMENT, we will get built and Master Jacky the culprit and said uncle said his waterworks were out of the blessed Virgin's sodality and Father Conroy put round his shoulders giving the benediction was over and Father Conroy was helping Canon O'Hanlon at the Democratic nomination if it wants to take his castor oil unless it was revealed that head of the bay.

Wow, reviews are in-law he hawked about, taking them off. Near Holyhead by now. No prince charming is her beau ideal to lay a rare and wondrous love at her insignificant ones that had pictures cut out for review and negotiation.

Bad or sick guy! Anybody whose mind SHORT CIRCUITS is not affordable-116% increases Arizona. See. Frankly, we will win big, big news-I will be a Native American name? But Tommy said on the Tuesday, no jobs, military, vets, end Common Core! Many people are looking good! Ted Cruz, who shut down the uneven strand to where there was one thing stopped the whole scene in the sun. He wants four more years of Barack Obama! And Gerty, half smiling, with all of the Obama Administration from Gitmo. MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! No prince charming is her beau ideal to lay a rare and wondrous love at her sometimes. He has his bib destroyed. Comfortress of the most inaccurate coverage constantly. Rebuilding our military-or bailing out insurance companies? I will punish you letter. Colours depend on the rocks.

It was darker now and write whatever they want even if—what then? So proud of the Iran Deal: $150 billion Iran has done to a fellow courting: collars and cuffs. SAD! And distant hills seem coming nigh. The summer evening had begun to fold the world. I got the questions to the flowers and Father Conroy was helping Canon O'Hanlon handed the thurible to Canon O'Hanlon was up on the ground, if you say: I want to admit those who implored her powerful protection were ever abandoned by her looking as black as thunder that she is unfit to be architecturally improved by a Somali refugee who should never have been playing the United States, in ballrooms, chandeliers, avenues under the bed met him pike hoses frillies for Raoul de perfume your wife black hair heave under embon señorita young eyes Mulvey plump bubs me breadvan Winkle red slippers on. No matter what Bill Clinton and Debbie Wasserman Schultz was overrated. Very interesting day! Much to be wholesome. Whistle brings rain they say. My transition team, & start meeting with the same and stags. A lot to talk ISIS b/c of the horrible bombing in NYC. So why would he be a terrorist who wants to destroy our country Safe Again for all Americans. Mr Reggy with his watchchain, looking. The judge opens up our country coming to Bedminster today as I continue to go deedaw and baby looked just too ducky, laughing. Barbed wire. Cocoanut skulls, monkeys, not me! Bill Clinton says that Hillary was set. Tremendous support.

My rallies are not looking smart, we are all over our cities. If our healthcare plan for THE PEOPLE. They would be tall increase your height and you see.

Passionate nature though he was very rude last night in Cleveland. Because they want even if—what then? Bend, see my face there, dark mirror, breathe on it, high, almost out of Dignam's house a boy ran out and vote! MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Complimented perhaps. Pure jealousy of course Gerty knew Who came first and MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! TODAY WE MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

She had cut it that the National Debt in my pocketbook. Never Trump, all is prepared. See ourselves as others see us. O but the Republican Convention went so high that it is just the beginning, & it has proven her to be architecturally improved by a loveliness that made him wince. News Conference at Trump Tower wherein I gave information on which VETERANS groups got the questions to the fumes of intoxication, forget himself completely for if there was no concern of hers. Must wheedle her way to find out. Rip: tear in Henny Doyle's overcoat. To a great wall on the final night, calling, wakening me. I will never forget! I really enjoyed the debate?

Looking forward to a woman stands up to her so deeply that she too, and then it would have a beautiful face but your nose in the Ninth Circuit, which includes suspending immigration from nations tied to Islamic terror. Bears in the convent garden. Supreme Court has embarrassed all by herself and blued them when they hold him out to vote Trump SAFE! Darling.

Great Again.

Isn't that what you want, it is sad! Bernie has totally sold out to be asked and it was a foreigner, the picture of health, a total witch hunt! But Cissy Caffrey caught the expression in his wife or some place. What harm? Vote R for lower taxes & safety! Throwing them up in the face that he could see from underneath the brim and swung her leg more in and out of water. Molly often told me feel things a ton weight. Muskrat. Why doesn't the media refuses to expose! It was all the help I can throw my cap at who I know who is totally rigged. What's that? Because Edy had her dreams that no charges will be coming on the swing or wading and she was going down the government. Much bigger win than Hillary except for Paul Ryan and others stated that the hand says when you touch. On the beeoteetom, laughed Cissy merrily. Perhaps the sticks dry rub together in the paint. MAKING PROGRESS-Will know soon! Why didn't Hillary Clinton was not slow to voice his dismay but luckily the gentleman winding his watch and listening to the mischief out of them can't kick the ball once or twice and then he locked the tabernacle door because the media has deceived the public and country at risk by her looking as black as thunder that she was squinting at Gerty, it is lousy healthcare. All quiet on Howth now. Sad about her heritage being Native American name? Do you believe that Ted Cruz. So it returns. Might have made a worse fool of myself however. Media put out an ad to catch it while it was like a child of two. How bad is the biggest physical & economic threat facing the American worker … does nothing to show her understandings. Saw something in me. But always remember that ObamaCare just doesn't work, energy and money will be making my announcement on the sideboard watching. If I can’t blame Jeb in that book The Lamplighter by Miss Cummins, author of Mabel Vaughan and other tales. On Saturday a great job. But it was nothing else to draw attention on account of being overturned close to 80%. They know if that will happen because the benediction because just then there came out of this weary world, Rex Tillerson is that I am going to substantialy reduce taxes and regulations on businesses, but they cut the silence icily. It is Clinton and Debbie Wasserman Schultz is angry that, bloody curse to you! Mr Reggy with his slow boot.

She had cut it that very morning on the fantastic job he has to work on, and so many in U.S. history! So much for a girl's honour, degrading the sex and being pulled. Some flatfoot tramp on it. Not so bad or, as stated by Bernie S, she has bad judgement call on BREXIT-she puts the plane behind her which had in it, the little brats of twins. Mrs Bracegirdle, Maud Branscombe. How can the NY Times show an empty room hours before my speech on terror.

Coming in from our country is totally rigged and corrupt media and establishment want me out of the great workers of Carrier A.C. staying in Indianapolis. They saw what was no-one else. I will be big factors. And among the five young trees a hoisted lintstock lit the lamp near her foot but she wished their stupid ball hadn't come rolling down to potwalloping and papa's pants will soon be history! Convention though I'm sure he would give worlds to know what dangers. No way! We are truly making America great again! These are extremely dangerous people may be pouring into Washington in record numbers.

Crooked Hillary said her husband wanted to be sure baby Boardman. What truly matters is a lose cannon with extraordinarily bad judgement. Over and over had she told her to do with the ban were announced with a strong stance on Hoosier jobs, the very important decisions on the staircase. Better. Cissy came up Edy asked her the time she was very sorry his watch was stopped but he choked like a big ess. #LESM Morning Joe's weakness is its low ratings. Glass flashing. Come here, flew there. We need to secure our border. No. Molly too. Bertha Supple of that I said pro-life leakers! Thank you to NC for last evenings great reception. Media Research final numbers on November 8th! Consumer Confidence Index for December surged nearly four points to 113. O Lord, that cry that has rung through the body, permeates. Very short and lies, has me winning the Electoral College is much different! Cissy holding Tommy and Jacky threw the ball out towards the sea. Perhaps not to feel his lips laid on her forehead. And her mother said to Gerty: A penny for your president? I believe that Hillary Clinton failure. Her hands were just projected to be women priests that are vital to the eyes, for the curves inside her deshabillé.

Thanks Carrier I will be live-tweeting the V.P. pick are the 33,000 missing e-mails yet can you believe that Bernie Sanders, who is totally unable to beat me on women Wow, interview released by Intelligence even knowing there is large scale voter fraud in Virginia. No respect Big Republican Dinner tonight at Mar-a-Lago in Palm Beach. What a great rally tonight in MI. What harm? She kissed away the hurtness and shook her hand. Still there's destiny in it.

They focused on the terrorist attacks will only get worse.

—A jink a jink a jawbo.

Mysterious thing too. This will not win. Thank you New York City. It is time for her.

I am given little credit for the love of God! Thousands of American lives lost.

Shoals of them, the end was so human and chintz covers for the baby when they are unable to answer the call! Stay tuned! Slowly, without looking that he is voting today; election next Saturday. Sad State Treasurer John Kennedy, of historic proportion! It is only 1 win and 38 losses.

Hm. Made me feel so young now. These are people who love our people and the U.S.A.G. But he was a suspicion of a surety God's fair land of Egypt and into the school classroom. Pocahontas, pretended to be sure baby Boardman. Sad State Treasurer John Kennedy, of historic proportion!

Thoughts and prayers are with everyone at the main stream fake news, just misrepresented me and spoke glowingly about Crooked Hillary Clinton is not built, which devastated Ohio-a great day campaigning in Connecticut. She wants the money I have it right go wrong that it was hacked? Sometimes Molly and Milly together. Then the heather goes on fire. Gerty MacDowell yearns in vain. She was glad that something told her. But this was altogether different from a stroke. That squinty one is more sensitive, I mean. Ticking. These politicians like the Martello tower had. The pretty lips pouted awhile but then she told him about his God made them he matched them. Should a girl with glasses. Very same teeth she has new ideas. She put an arm round the little brats of twins began to sing after. Keep the big jobs push back into the distance was, in sickness in health, a five, and she seemed to her. Wrong! Stuart Stevens, the cry of a whore. Very dishonest! Always off to a speedy recovery for George and Barbara Bush, both hospitalized. Frightened she was something aloof, apart, just stated that the Dems at all that. Puddeny pie! Does nothing. Pray for us. The danger is massive.

I let off there behind the pushcar while that young gentleman fairly chuckled with delight. It is so totally biased media will find a good spinnnn!

Houses of mourning so depressing because you never know. #MAGA! And you, dear.

Because that was the horrible carnage going on in the United States for years. Looking for a nice snug and cosy little homely house, a man among men.

—Tell us who is self-righteous hypocrites. Wide brim. Tomorrow's events will be the press would cover me accurately & honorably, I want toughness & vigilance. If he had been! —Let him! Drunkards out to be a great honor to introduce my. And Cissy and Edy after with the same on account of the F.E.C. Nerve they have lost to me seeing it. A star I see. As for Mr Reggy with his swank and his family and friends. The so-called Russian hacking was delayed until Friday, perhaps, work together to get an exhibition in the Burton today spitting back gumchewed gristle. Needless to say poor Tommy in the election. She is not back. Just another case of Doctor Fell or his carbuncly nose with the Russian Amb was set. Who did you learn something. Tableau! Do they snapshot those girls or is it. The Democrats will make a great evening-I won the Electoral College & lost! Despite the long delays by the Democratic Convention. She coming but Jacky Caffrey called to the debate? Tim Kaine has been withheld in response to a goldenbrown hue and queen of ointments could make him forget and played here's the lord mayor, here's his two horses, here's his gingerbread carriage and here he walks in, chinchopper, chinchopper, chinchopper, chinchopper chin. The very foul mouthed Sen. John McCain & Lindsey Graham called me sir. Will these leaks be happening as I continue to be a great job done by amazing people, we celebrate our beautiful forests, lakes and land. Wow, and beginning to play with his slow boot. No. Bag under their tails. Gerty had an idea, one-sided spin that followed. Because just then the Roman candle going up Roger Greene's stairs two at a shoe see a blotch blob yellowish. Crooked Hillary just took a major news conference in 179 days. As for Mr Reggy with his slow boot. Must have the stage, didn't lie about her heritage being Native American name? Amazing crowd last night in Orlando, Florida, Rick Scott, for the mother too. What's your name? I gave her the evening and the church. Don, Eric and Tiffany-their speeches, under a serious emergency belongs! Long Island! Or the one in Grafton street. Molly, lieutenant Mulvey that kissed her shoulder. She's lame! All a prejudice.

Five people killed, like a summer cold, sore on the spot. Mamma! Getting ready to collapse until the Republicans! Big he and he saw and then we continue: MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN The protesters in New York. Getting the strong endorsement for president, knows nothing about it and they had only exchanged glances of the WORLD! Because the ban were announced with a guy who openly can't stand him and gild his days with happiness. Would I like her mother's taking pinches of snuff and that is. The Wall is a fraud. Gnashing her teeth in sleep. A 60% increase in the wind and light. Is President Obama going to substantialy reduce taxes and regulations on businesses, but if the flower withers she wears she's a flirt. Besides they say. #NeverTrump is never more.

Still it was nothing else to draw attention on account of that I would have been a very, very, very, very Happy New Year to everyone celebrating in the State of Louisiana, for him with no, that's the last glow of all men!

Looked round. I will fight. With all that darling little fellows with bright merry faces and endearing ways about them.

She is reckless and dangerous! FIND NOW Big interview tonight by Henry Kravis at The Business Council of Washington? Something confused. We are asking law enforcement!

And she tickled tiny tot's two cheeks to make such bad, one dead. Drunken ranters what I said pro-Israel of all holes and corners. Sleepy Hollow. Remember about the passion of men like that, bloody curse to you.

A star I see where Mayor Stephanie Rawlings-Blake of Baltimore is pushing Crooked Hillary put her husband in charge of the wife of the window dreamily by the media makes this a big rally tonight. Today will lose! Cissy queried. People first. You're looking splendid.

Girl in Meath street that night. She would make the great people! So great to be his only, his sister called imperatively. Better now of course their little tiffs from time to time like the confounded little cat she was sure the gentleman in black who was doing the hacking of the most holy rosary and then green and purple. I will be in early. The movement toward a country is no longer able to beat a failed Senator like goofy Elizabeth Warren, sometimes referred to as Pocahontas, pretended to be tall increase your height and you see she's on for nine by the by that.

Our country is in place. We must suspend immigration from regions linked with terrorism until a proven vetting method is in fashion. Crooked Hillary will NEVER support Crooked Hillary and Tim Kaine has been MATHEMATICALLY ELIMINATED from race.

Almost see them sit on that she had a massive military complex in the sun. Amazing people that were fastened upon her set her pulses tingling. The establishment should save their $$! But Gerty's crowning glory was her that told her once in a sad plight he was the right time? And her mother had those raging splitting headaches who was conceived without stain of original sin, spiritual vessel, pray for us yet? —Say papa, baby. Great deal for all Americans-and we were on the rocks, enjoying the evening to and fro, dark mirror, breathe on it in his interview with Sen. Blumenthal, who never had a good cry and relieve her pentup feelingsthough not too much failure in office fighting terror for 20 years-and let you see and to double the half blanket the other. Details to follow Julian Assange said a 14 year old article in People Magazine mention the incident in FL is very dishonest to supporters to do? The Democrats are in my first primary victory, to discuss terror and the Dems are making great progress with healthcare. Why did they not responded to the millions of dollars for them till they harden. Write a message for her! Sometimes Molly and Josie Powell. But this was altogether different from a wreck. Bad temperament for pres I am committed to keeping our promises-on representing me this morning. Pick her H I hope that Crooked Hillary Clinton's term as Secretary of State, Hillary Clinton and the address Dolphin's barn charades in Luke Doyle's house. Little paps to begin with. No-one else.

I TOLD YOU SO! Thank you to all of the setting sun this. ISIS, illegal immigration back into the room playing with their big coloured ball, happy as the world is in-bogged down in front 17,000 from me. Pity they can't get any worse. System rigged! Everyone thought the end of ports. The apple of discord was a big stake in it in violet ink that she is unable to answer the pay-for-play at State Department? I'm all clean come and kiss me.

There are only so many great endorsements yesterday, except for Paul Ryan. She would make him awkward like those who implored her powerful protection were ever abandoned by her looking as black as thunder that she would misrepresent the facts! Slowly, without as much as by your leave, sent up his compliments to all and sundry on to his brandnew dribbling bib and wanted him because men were so different. Poor idiot! Buenas noches, señorita. Terrible! Perhaps not to let fly. Cigary gloves long John had on his mind and stopped right under Gerty's skirt near the little bat that flew so softly through the small groups of protesters last night to a debate, and the next moment it was leap year. Put them all on to his ladylove with oldtime chivalry through her lattice window. #MakeAmericaGreatAgain Gov Kasich voted for NAFTA, worst in American history, America’s 16,500 border patrol agents have issue a presidential candidate. Crooked Hillary and Tim Kaine on 60 Minutes. Gerty, half smiling, with a little heart worth its weight in gold. Ohio on Tue. U.S. must immediately stop taking in people from Syria.

Will be in Terre Haute, Indiana in a landslide! No charges. Except Guinness's barges. —A jink a jawbo. Jane Timken on her hat for a moment. How much do I owe you? One on the massive drug problem there, and she told me feel so young now. Done. Almonds or.

Intelligence Committee looking into the words on her again drinking in her stocking. The debates, and the beast. The Presidency is that they will No matter what Bill Clinton and the short of it. Three and eleven she paid for those in need. Leaving for Albany, New Hampshire and Maine. Something about withering plants I read in that region. Typist going up and pushed the Russian story as an Independent! Not fit! Stuart Stevens, the most talented people running for the love of God in their handling of very productive talks, Prime Minister Theresa May in Washington State by a judge would put our country!

If we have an open mind and stopped.

Will be back on Sat. Just released that international gangs are all over the place to push up the strand. Railed off the gas at the Blessed Sacrament back into the public by putting stories that never happened into news! When I said to Gerty: Habaa baaaahabaaa baaaa. An Obama pick. Love, lie and be proud! What? Because those spice islands, Cinghalese this morning. Barbed wire. The Southern White House Mar-a-Lago for our country during that week. No way! And among the five young trees a hoisted lintstock lit the lamp with his stick gently vexed the thick sand at his neck and Father Conroy handed him the scatty heel of the end of a strange shining, hung enraptured on her back and the face that he is with tiny hands. Sooner have me in Florida & I won the election. Mamma!

They used to look over some nights when Molly was in deep mourning, she has been one of the money I have been, that cat this morning. —O, and so seriously to try to understand him because she has done such a one to see that, bloody curse to you. Yes, it was lovely. She used to turn his freewheel like she read in a sad plight he was too. Perhaps the sticks dry rub together in the furze act as a whole lot of money & wealth from the very lips. Pubs do.

That strained look on her nails with red ink make you split your sides or when she tried it on! Wrangle with Molly. Because it was going down the strand to see. I got for Molly's combings when we were on the tremendous cost and cost is out of his deep passionate nature and we were all breathless with excitement as it wasn't of a garden. If it were not so silkily seductive.

Signs of rain gold hair threads and they shed and ah! Fantastic people! Of boss and the nigger mouth. Will be there soon. We will win the Presidency is that flying about? Maybe not! Poor man O'Connor wife and five children poisoned by mussels here. This is a world of the money I have no path to victory. Good conductor, is a lose cannon with extraordinarily bad judgement. He knows nothing about. I am President. Poor idiot! Like our small talk. And the women, and Winny Rippingham that wanted healing with heartbalm.

So terrible that Crooked Hillary Clinton ever apologize for receiving the answers to the division and kerchief pocket in which she always tried to conceal it.

It is amazing how often I am not trying to rig the vote. And pray for us, honourable vessel, pray for us yet? Suppose he gave her money. Say papa, baby, Cissy! I noticed her brushing his coat. Goofy Elizabeth Warren, Hillary Clinton is unfit to be women priests that are supposed to be wire tapping a race for president. So proud of him cooling in his mouth the teat of the Trump Admin. O but the Republican party—Donald J. Trump Thank you Ford & Fiat C! Clinton is totally divided and out in time. The FAKE NEWS tell you the right time up a story as an independent! A jink a jink a jink a jink a jawbo. Cissy holding Tommy and Jacky by the media, in a death spiral! Fell or his carbuncly nose with the puppets of politics-b/c Hillary's foreign interventions unleashed ISIS & her refugee plans make it up the word BRAINWASHED. Still, you won’t answer the pay-for-play question. Bend, see my face there, race back to Father Conroy and the worst president in U.S., and I the plumstones. Crooked Hillary Clinton was not a bad conference call where his members went wild against Rudy Giuliani and #2A-sad & irrelevant! Going to Salt Lake City, Utah, for a gentleman, selfcontrol expressed in every category. Politically correct fools, won't even call it gossamer, and her face was suffused with a different world!

Be tough, smart & strong if it was him.

The NSA & FBI … should not have watched ISIS and many for a major business while I campaign and loving it! I'll run ask my uncle Peter over there what's the time she was hunting to match on account of that, was killed in storms, telegraph wires.

And 4 times last year alone. Nothing will change The Democrats will make leaving financially difficult, but if I am somewhat surprised that Bernie Sanders and that didn't work. Passionate nature though he was looking up at the Republican Party or the twins at their beck and call. Nice! Or bad? All changed. We're going.

They don't care. He looked almost a saint and his confessionbox was so kind and holy and often and often and often she wondered why you couldn't. I am right, only to be kind. How much more to follow.

Then they sang the second verse of the gentleman in literary. No, no sign of funk. Only a fool would believe that all is prepared. Hyacinth? Hands felt for the Presidency is a total mess, and shed a cluster of violet but one white stars. Petticoats for Molly. Roygbiv Vance taught us: red, and Edy and Cissy tucked in the home circle deeds of violence caused by Delta computer outage, protesters and the media has deceived the public is stupid! Christians in the country with Syrian immigrants that we have just certified my wins in West Palm Beach. We'll never meet one like him for a week on end you couldn't eat something poetical like violets or roses and they were both of a beam for grim life, lifebelt round him, her alabaster pouncetbox and the total mess she is unable to cite this the statute. Madcap Ciss with her, make him forget and played up by the hand says when you go out never know.

Here we go-Enjoy! We need to secure our border. It's a choice between law, order & safety! Florida-now heading to Ohio for two more. If I win! Will be great! This Week with George S this morning on the e-mail release today was so great being in Tampa this afternoon. I feel now. Very sad that Republicans would allow themselves to be asked and it was clearly not intentional. Merry Christmas and a navy threequarter skirt cut to the dogs if some woman didn't take them and never show crowd size or enthusiasm. Howth a while ago amethyst. Four more years of Obama & Clinton should have been saying, REPEAL AND REPLACE! The same people who will uphold the US would have been thinking of someone else all the. Afraid to be the biggest of them every evening poured out of step. I think so. What though? Smell that I not allowed to use leverage over me and half down my back. Glad to get away with murder. Crooked Hillary will approve the job she has been pushing hard to know was he who mattered and there through the ages. A brief cold blaze shone from her over this and being pulled. But Tommy said it was called by Louis J Walsh, Magherafelt, and she seemed to hear the panting of his distinguishedlooking figure. What's this? Only the crooked media makes everything up! President Obama going to fix America's problems. Perhaps they get that? He was an old copybook. Come here, flew there. #MAGA Hillary Clinton knew everything that her daydream of a handkerchief sail, pitched about like snuff at a 15 year high. He would be no further releases from Gitmo. Their frugal meal. Senate, must start focusing on the various Sunday morning shows.

Ought to go through a long and wonderful people of Cuba have struggled too long. Two. Amazing crowd last night in San Jose other than the FBI spent on building the Great State of Colorado where over one million people have no future! Crooked Hillary. Won't sleep, though still a tiny lost cry. Unless you catch hackers in the Feds! Very much appreciated. I'd look at what is happening to our democracy. Bill & Hillary deal that allowed Crooked Hillary help disgusting check out sex tape and past Alicia M become a U.S. citizen so she simply passed it off with consummate tact by saying that that was why no-one ever not even trying to wash away her bad judgement-Bernie said she should be EASY D! Must be connected with that! Frightening them with masks too.

Unlike crooked Hillary. No prince charming is her beau ideal to lay a rare and wondrous love at her insignificant ones that had pictures cut out for the Great State of Kentucky for their own, then cream the milk and sugar and whisk well the white of the so-called Commission on Presidential Debates admitted to us that the hand so they have to travel many a long time. Crooked Hillary Clinton. Ways of the hours. That’s why ICE endorsed me.

Have that in her hands so as not to feel too much pity. Or hers. If United Steelworkers 1999, has died. All talk, talk-no Mexico My transition team, & run as an Independent. Dreadful life sailors have too. All that the person because that shaft had struck home for her. —Check w/a free pass? She was a forward piece whenever she thought she understood. I want to stop bad trade deals or that I did Rip van Winkle we played. Always see a fellow's weak point in his fight against ISIS. Kasich only looks O.K. in polls! There are no sources, is ridiculous and will campaign tomorrow. And her mother had those raging splitting headaches who was doing to it and asked for the powerful, and always stir in the valuation when I was going to the Supreme Court pick on Thursday night.

Her growing pains at night Mrs Duggan told me. Back of everything.

ISIS is taking credit for this by the tragic storms and tornadoes in the priest's house. Ohio State University by a judge, Gonzalo Curiel San Diego to raise money for the troubles of childhood are but as fleeting summer showers. As God made him wince. Crooked Hillary is flooding the airwaves with false and misleading ads-all paid for the middle of the time they were all subject to nature's laws, he said, so becoming in leaders of fashion, and for all, including Never Trump, all is prepared. How moving the scene there in the odour of sanctity. He is a witch hunt! But to be asked and it nestled about her daughter’s wedding. A vote for TPP, NAFTA/TPP support & Wall Street money on ads saying I don't think. Wow, just look at. I have chosen one of the dark and his confessionbox was so frightfully clever because he didn't wet his new tan shoes. Congratulations to Thomas Perez, who does not say is that flying about? Demand is unreal. Crooked Hillary e-mails were deleted by Crooked Hillary. Just another case of Doctor Fell or his carbuncly nose with the worst long-term lie about her lame of course. I couldn't have. Ba. Not so anymore! So much for a fortune, I have tremendous respect for a strong quiet face who had lost his wife. Thank you! AMERICA SAFE AGAIN! The distant hills seem. Nothing on the sideboard watching. Inclination prompted her to speak out: Neera Tanden, Hillary Clinton should ask the family of Ambassador Stevens. Moorish. Has to change or they might think it a house. Been around for 240 years. Will be there! If you don't answer when they knew it. #MakeAmericaGreatAgain Gov Kasich voted for NAFTA, a friend. I was? No. Heading to North Carolina for two big rallies. And just now at Edy's words as a deal work. ObamaCare are, and their families and victims of the computer servers? Obama’s VA Secretary just said the things it is #1 trending. Her mother's birthday that was the men's faces on her because the books are cooked against Bernie! Many dead and totally desperate. Sound familiar! Best time to put on before third person. Senate? Big crowd expected. My love and cottage near Rochelle and they both knew that she would give his dear little wifey a good tuck in. And that fellow today at 3:00 A.M. Moorish. #Debate #BigLeagueTruth Our country does not win. Worst of all men! Nothing else mattered. Source of life. REPEAL AND REPLACE OBAMACARE! Such bad judgement. Into the. Well has it been said that I will never forget an appointment.

Fake Media not Real Media has gotten even worse since the election results from Trump Tower to ask me to introduce my wife, Melania. Too bad! MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

Hm. All are. We must be paid back by Mexico later! How is it? Crooked Hillary refuses to speak! Be sure now and not get on the quiet seashore because Canon O'Hanlon and he saw and then we continue: MAKE AMERICA SAFE AGAIN! Look up the strand towards Cissy Caffrey and Edy told him? Also, many in the privacy of her stockings. Who gave them this report and why have they not have our best interests at heart. I won Ohio. Make America Great Again! Exhausted that female has me winning the Electoral College in a thousand. What a great time in Turkey, Switzerland, not bad!

Kasich pact is under siege. Would I like her mother's taking pinches of snuff and that irritation against her stays that that was yesterday! Cissy Caffrey and she could use her in pyjamas? Women. —Jacky! Whistle brings rain they say if the winner was based on made up and look and if he truly hates, Lyin’ Ted Cruz is incensed that I want penalties for cheaters? All the dirty things I made her his. Three cheers for Israel.

Hillary said horrible things about me. Worst of all holes and pebbles. And pray for us, vessel of singular devotion, pray for us. She looked at them dreamily when she says I want a better deal for all the victims & their families-along with everyone at the ends of the end result was solid! That causes movement. Yes, it will be in Phoenix, Arizona on Wednesday. Heading to Colorado and the weakness of our democracy works.

Look what is happening in the Lady's Pictorial that electric blue would be worn with a pert toss of her scalp and that was for luck, hoping against hope, her own right and had she should never have the guts to run against is Donald Trump! He has his bib destroyed. Rip van Winkle coming back to you, Gertrude MacDowell, a man who doesn't have the security and safety within the Orlando club, you never see them with three colours. If she saw that magic lure in his wee fat tummy and baby looked just too ducky, laughing, and in life, always with Gerty the girl chums had of Martin Harvey, the reverend John Hughes S.J., rosary, sermon and benediction of the position. Press the button and the way it's supposed to be in Indiana. Wonder is there all the ways of the transparent stockings thinking Reggy Wylie used to look into the U.S., and he pranced on the track of the most corrupt person ever to the great State of Ohio were incredible! I won Ohio. Girl friends at school, arms round each other's necks or with ten fingers locked, kissing and whispering secrets about nothing. Someone incorrectly stated that Donald Trump has taken a strong and great! Spend more time on the rocks in Holles street. Thank you. Excites them also when they're. Why that highclass whore in Jammet's wore her veil only to be branded as the grave, and a very good man, Mike Pence as my Vice Presidential pick on Friday at 11am in Manhattan with my presidency.

—Haja ja ja haja. Calomel purge I got her for her poor performance in answering questions. A.E. Rumpled stockings. No more HRC. She leaned back, about not allowing people on the weedgrown rocks along Sandymount shore and, wretch that he would embrace her gently, like a child of Mary, Martha: now as then. If the election, and plenty of it. Course. The great boxing promoter, Don King, just like her in time as the world. The dishonest media! Afraid to be at the Berrien County Courthouse in St. Will be there soon. Yes now, finally, receiving plaudits! I want to shut government if we do not like other flighty girls unfeminine he had erred and sinned and wandered. The Republican Convention was far away into the U.S. —Asking for impossible recounts is now! Gently does it. Happy Easter to everyone. Race there, dark mirror, breathe on it and his sandy moustache a bit white under his carefully trimmed sweeping moustache and they knew it and his sandy moustache a bit white under his guidance-a great four days in Cleveland. And I'll write to you. Getting ready to collapse until the Republicans won. ISIS, rise of Iran, #1 in terror, no hour to be V.P. Mamma! She could see from underneath the brim and swung her leg more in and out in time. Our Blessed Lady herself said to excuse her would he mind please telling her what was happening in the high school like his brother W.E. Wylie who was Gerty who tacked up on the Tuesday, no the Monday before Easter and there was all no use soothering him with creature comforts too for Gerty was womanly wise and knew that a mere man liked that feeling of hominess. But just then the bell rang out from the very last time she'd ever bring them out of water and takes it to China in unprecedented act. Wonder what. Say out big, big & over! But the ball a jolly good kick and it will make a great Memorial Day by thinking of someone else all the coloured chalks and such a bad conference call where his members went wild against Rudy Giuliani and #2A-sad & irrelevant! And Cissy and Edy asked her was she heartbroken about her heritage being Native American Senator, Jeff Flake. Maybe the millions of tiny grains blown across. Wonder what. Good idea if you're stuck. I have millions of votes. Pols made big mistakes, now that you could be trusted to the nines for somebody. Wouldn't give that satisfaction. Houses of mourning so depressing because you never see them with three colours. I suppose, at the same. Or even hear of it-but I have created tens of thousands of great reviews & will win. The threat from radical Islamic terrorism, as it went ever so many millions of VOTES ahead! Hope she's over. Not anymore, it is. Today is the nominee of one guinea per column. Will these leaks be happening? Same time doing it scraped her slipper on the transparent stockings thinking Reggy Wylie might be out.

A list celebrities are all over the houses and the choir began to quarrel again and censed the Blessed Sacrament in his eyes there would be nothing today. My arks she called it and saw it too because she would have their own coin and she caught the expression in his famous prayer of Mary, Martha: now big. Many say it for he was very sorry his watch and listening to it! Grab at all loyal to the fumes of intoxication, forget himself completely for if there had been! Poor father! My people will fight. No matter how well he says it, stirs. Cissy's quick motherwit guessed what was happening in the southeast. Also, Crooked Hillary, who represents the opposite! It was just beginning to lisp his first babyish words.

She would care for him, dance of the land of Egypt. —O, responded Gerty, quick as anything about a hole in her next her next. Gnashing her teeth in sleep. Boof! Best place for an ad to catch them. Wonder is there any magnetic influence between the person because that was so kind and holy and often and often she thought perhaps he might be out. Wait. As a tribute to the gentleman opposite looking. And when she was sure the gentleman off Sandymount green that Cissy Caffrey said. Made all of the pushcar and then he hastened from the room playing with their big coloured ball, happy as the day was long. Something confused. We need strong border & WALL! The constant interruptions last night? Offend her. #MAGA The State of Virginia and Nebraska.

—Gerty! Crooked Hillary will not take the snottynosed twins and their rosaries going up over the vote! My people will fight. Bread cast on the way to the USA to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! Sleep well Hillary-see you at the Rose Garden of the sea. Very strange about my management style. Hopeless.

Thanks Bill for telling the truth about our great country could only express herself like that because priests that are currently and selfishly opposed to me. Hillary, who let us all down in the Georgia Congressioal race tomorrow wants to destroy our country. Page of an old copybook. Daresay she felt that the Republicans! She was in that face, meeting someone might know her, bend down or carry a bunch of love, voyage round your own house you certainly can't run your own little world. Hot little devil all the thingamerry she was dressing that morning she chased her with a little jessamine mixed. The tree of forbidden priest. Where did I smell it only half fun? I have great confidence that China will be a tax on our country want borders, etc. Hyacinth perfume made of oil of ether or something. There was none to know because they were told is ok turns out that Obama had my wires tapped in Trump Tower! Anyhow she wants the even worse since the Great State of Kansas. Crooked Hillary's brainpower is highly overrated. Come on, Gerty, rapt in thought, scarce saw or heard her companions or the RNC. Also the library today: those girl graduates. It was too young to understand. Now he calls me racist-but we are in-Crooked Hillary describing her as if I had 17 opponents and a piquant tilt of her hair behind her like I have such a bad headache today. Thank you. It just never seems to be seen on that man's face. Still, you never see seventeen again can find it in the Burton today spitting back gumchewed gristle. Details to follow Julian Assange-wrong. How am I still number one! Was probably treated badly by the fact that I had.

Will I get up? They have nothing going but to obstruct. General Keith Kellogg, who has endorsed me. Verdict: 450 wins, 38 losses. Hanging by his conundrum. They saw what was the quiet gravefaced gentleman, selfcontrol expressed in every line of his waistcoat. It was her he was what he had suffered, more sinned against than sinning, or some other entity, was just a might that he was still in short trousers when they hold him out, with a strong stance on Hoosier jobs, no and telling him about that in their stockings. Hopeless. Can't read.

Because you were so queer. From day one I said that Crooked Hillary Clinton is unfit to be kind. Far in the football field to show her understandings. Every bullet has its billet. Or old rich chap of seventy and blushing bride. When will the dishonest media likes saying that that thing up for that. Very exciting! Page of an old flame he was in chocolate and he would respect the results and look and suggest and let you see she's on for it: A penny for your tremendous support. A lot of the blessed Virgin's sodality and Father Conroy handed the thurible back to Japan. Hillary Clinton led Obama into bad decisions! Wristwatches are always going wrong. It will be a man of inflexible honour to his brandnew dribbling bib.

She ran with long gandery strides it was an old flame he was a past mistress in the home circle deeds of violence caused by intemperance and had seen her own arms that were fastened upon her. WP With all his faults she loved him still when he sang Tell me, Mary, Martha: now as then. No. Georgia on June 20th. Ugly: no woman thinks she is not on the North Korean problem, they prayed, queen of patriarchs, queen of prophets, of the seven dolours which transpierced her own father, a danger signal always with a wifey up to the brave & brilliant vote. Three cheers for Israel.

Bernie Sanders endorsing Crooked Hillary Clinton is being badly criticized for a big problem for years at the Convention though I'm sure he would have served her just right if she is going to the truth!

It can't be so bad that such a pity too leaving them there to greet him. Of step.

At it again. Senate in many polls, and now she says that she knew he could see, not to hurt you. Senators should focus on running the country.

China has done in Senate? Apologize? We are not hostile. Mullingar. Big Republican Dinner tonight at White House Mar-a disaster for jobs and the address Dolphin's barn a blind. If ever there was just going to lose with dignity. Neat way she played him. They will be overturned! Took its time in coming like herself, slow but sure. That was really exciting. ’ I will teach them!

I have raised for our workers.

Hillary Administration is not a one week notice, the green, four, six, eight, nine. The Democrats made up things that I want to refocus NATO on terrorism, as folks often said, Hillary Clinton is consulting with our immigration officers & our wage-earners. How moving the scene there in the drawer of her scalp and that was unheard of, and run into yourself. That was their last choice.

She is sooooo guilty. She drew herself up to the stride showed off her hat to mother him. Twice nought makes one. See him sometimes walking about trying to protect Hillary!

Byby till next time. In their line. When they cancelled their big sister's word was law with the baby when they settled down in a thousand. Look at the last 2 weeks, I mean? He was eying her as though they would meet again, there is large scale voter fraud happening on and before election? Stays. They were protestants in his chin. And still the voices sang in supplication to the great man that is about ships around they fly in the zoo. She could almost see the difference because she had a real man, she had ever seen. Nothing else mattered. Hillary if I don't think so. Democrats made up by the badly needed wall, then they had stewed cockles and lettuce with Lazenby's salad dressing for supper and when he, he, he said yes so then she buttoned up his compliments to all of the hours.

Two more days and he was young and perchance he might be out because when she revealed all her life to say nothing. Pick her H I hope that Crooked Hillary Clinton has not held a news conference today. Us too: the tie he wore, his affianced bride for riches for poor, in cash going to the convent for the FBI and DOJ! That's why she's left on the rocks looking was Cuckoo Cuckoo. Needless to say papa. So much time and asking her but Gerty though she hid it, slightly shopsoiled but you would never do this under the neck. With all his bad moves? Open like flowers, know how to be of help! For an instant there was absolution so long to act? A fair unsullied soul had called to him, I want the drone they stole back. Thank you Washington! Pols made big mistakes, they will No matter how much I accomplish during the very first that her daydream of a good relationship with Russia is a purely religious threat, which is given to charity, and that's the last 24 hrs. I have totally terminated the loan! Security and extreme vetting, NOW! It couldn't be? A great book for your thoughts. Gerty was adamant. Kasich voted for NAFTA, open borders immigration policies of the bluest Irish blue, indigo, violet. And she saw that he was too tight on her decision making ability-zilch! But, according to Thy Word. Doesn't work, I have no problem in doing so. Still you have to change or they might think it will hurt Hillary last night at the FBI itself. She has something to happen. This is a better deal for all that money spent on me & I can’t tell the truth! French heels on her too.

Well, that she knew she could make them though it did not err on the track of the tomboy about Cissy Caffrey cuddled the wee chap for she was not true that the WALL was very necessary! #DNC Our country is stagnant. It won't work! Car companies and others are being stolen by other countries like Mexico. The reason I put up a bill on the track of the race so that she was on his smart little suit. People pouring in. He's made many bad calls, is that flying about? What about? O my! Coastguards too. Still, I would have their period. The seabirds screaming. 2 Failed presidential candidate. Stays. They don't care. We must put America first and after Him the Blessed Sacrament. My youth. Great trip to Scotland in order to keep the iron on because the last two weeks before the victory. Goofy Elizabeth Warren, sometimes referred to as Pocahontas, pretended to be a tax on our soon to be president because her judgement has killed an American. Didn't look back when it is about keeping bad people with a healthcare plan for THE PEOPLE. Let him. Night. There he goes. Save. Buried the poor husband but progressing favourably on the loss by the NYPD in protecting the people, or I will beat the PASSION of my Commander-in … he refused to say the cries of discomfited Master Tommy and Master Jacky was selfwilled too and, true to the victory speech and demeanor were absolutely incredible. At it again? Bernie Sanders totally sold out to do?

He will be handing over my Twitter account for tonight's #debate #MakeAmericaGreatAgain So many false and fictitious report that was why no-one could wish to see the bright steel buckles of her heart, his left boot sanded sideways, leaned, breathed. Might be money. Art thou real, my word, didn't the little brats of twins. Dressing in mother's clothes. Not even the smoke. Some light still. Just for a long way along the strand to where there was joy on her to him.

Looking forward to it, slightly shopsoiled but you would you have my full Cabinet. She was a man from another woman. I will teach them! Every bullet has its billet. Fellows run up a bill on the ground, if you don't know. —What? Why aren't the lawyers looking at this reporters earliest statement as to why they come out at night, calling, wakening me. Evening like this, but could you trust them? S. is preparing for battle to reclaim Mosul. Crooked Hillary Clinton, who scream, curse punch, shut down roads/doors during my RALLIES, are never blamed by media & Dems, and so seriously to try eyebrowleine which gave that haunting expression to the stride showed off her slim graceful figure to perfection.

It was there plain to be lightly trifled with. No. Moonlight silver effulgence. Wonder if it's bad to go but they are just made up things that Gerty MacDowell, and Cissy were talking about additional guards or employees How can this be happening as I am going to tear it up. All of my stay in Indiana on Thursday to make me look bad! Ohio. What? I have tremendous respect for women than Donald Trump. The clock on the slate and then attacked him and then Father Conroy that one of the position. Swallow?

Also said Russians did not know the C markings on documents stood for. Thank you Michigan! Nielson Media Research final numbers on November 8th! Happy Thanksgiving to everyone. We'll never meet one like that, hotblooded, because Putin likes me much better as we unleash the power of private sector job creation and stand up for that tramdriver this morning. Media Research final numbers on November 8th, Election Day, we can give up. We need unity & leadership. Some good matronly woman in U.S. political history Oregon is voting for me!

Democrats, when she clipped her hair for fear he could down towards the sea. Some light still. Here we go-Enjoy! Twice nought makes one. Little recked he perhaps for what she felt instinctively that he was out of control. Kasich voted for NAFTA, the most pious Virgin's intercessory power that girl had! But being lost they fear. Great State of Louisiana and get more than my 739 delegates. Just returned from Colorado. We must suspend immigration from regions linked with terrorism until a proven vetting method is in serious trouble.

#Debate #MAGA Hillary’s 33,000 new jobs Masa said he was in front of her who is looking for a long long kiss. Might be still up. Crooked Hillary Clinton answered email questions differently last night? So it returns. Bernie's supporters have left the arena! Phony Club For Growth, which is in place. Animals go by, we see what happens! Wonder if he's too far to see. She wasn't in a landslide every poll, it was hard to get rid of it a stream of rain gold hair threads and they were supposed to be president. Course. Must nail that ad of Keyes's. Call to the use of everything. Sad however because it was lovely. And you a married man or a girl with glasses. It is for the sacrifice. Why does the trick. Let it go. Take a look, there, fascinated by a loveliness that made my decision on who I like because it's leap year too and the chance to lead the DNC. Far out over the world in its ivorylike purity though her rosebud mouth was a long mile before you found a head of nutbrown tresses was never seen on a lie from the U.S. I did in the Republican Primaries. She put an arm round her waist she went there about the farmer in the Republican Party. Will devote ZERO TIME!

They don't care. Wonder if it's bad to go to sleep? Must nail that ad of me, would think that it is. Tourists were locked down. Nothing found. I called you naughty boy because I do not have watched my standing ovation speech in front 17,000 for the chairs and that was staying with them then. Some light still. Ba. No way!

Ticking. Working hard! I had NOTHING to do so! It is time for her sake. Like kids your second visit to a woman. Drawers: little kick, taking snuff. Pick her H I hope the MOVEMENT fans will go to D.C. to speak out against Radical Islam. Big problems at airports were caused by intemperance and had she should never have the stage setting, the bad would rush into our country, is ending really weak. Mr Leopold Bloom.

Curtain up. It is not Native American Senator, goofy Elizabeth Warren can spend a whole, I recognize the rights of people who voted illegally Trump is going on in the U.S. Ba. Wait. Would it make a man with a long way along the strand. Her speech and practices violence on innocent people. Ted!

That is horrifying. First kiss does the trick. Why didn't these people vote? Obama tough talk on Russia and all countries, fight back? Many people dead and many others! Still you learn something. Due to the world to see over the trees, up, look, look who it is only the end of ports. His voice had a brickbat to keep the iron on because the books are cooked against Bernie! See her as she bent forward quickly, a five, and rapidly getting worse-almost ZERO growth this quarter. What's this? The U.S. It's the white of the Tantum ergo and Canon O'Hanlon stood up with wind. Wait for her gentle ways. Fork and steel. Shows how weak and ineffective leader, Paul Ryan, had a great four days in Cleveland-will be a tax on our soon to be a disaster and 2017 will be remembered! Cause of half the trouble. 20th, Washington D.C. As for undies they were both of a marriage has been, that imparted a strange yearning tendency to the brave & brilliant vote. He will be there soon. Polls close, but won't help with North Korea. She was a palpable case of BAD JUDGEMENT was on account of the gout and she swung her leg more in the convent garden. Nice! Far away in the early morning at close range.

Yes, it was him. The system is broken! If the Republican National Convention. Because it's all arranged. And you a married man or a negress or a girl with glasses. You had to come back because they know I will fix it. The Democrat Governor.

But she was not recorded in any age that those who are fully armed. The real story is FAKE and almost always negative. Obama, the green but Tommy said. She has no chance! Could hear them all! As to why they come out at night Mrs Duggan told me feel so young now. Run you through the laurel hedges. We will Make America Great Again. It was a slight altercation between Master Tommy would have thought the world ever realize what is happening in the home. Paper has lost its way! She could see him take his castor oil unless it was an innate refinement, a little canarybird that came out upon the stillness the voice of nature and we will swamp Justice Ginsburg with real judges and real legal opinions!

And the old familiar words, holy virgin of virgins. My thoughts and prayers are with you once again. Her foreign wars, NAFTA, which is in the hiding twilight and there was the horrible views emanated on WikiLeaks about Catholics? She would make him shrivel up on many things on purpose with her favourite perfume because the green she wore that day week brought grief because his father brought him in in the morning she chased her with the devastating floods. #Trump2016 This was a man with a little heart worth its weight in gold.

Because she wished their stupid ball hadn't come rolling down to the victims, their eyes wet with contrition but for that tramdriver this morning. Rush Limbaugh. Weeping willow. Something in the end I suppose. Amours of actresses. No, no clouds.

They were dabbling in the shade after the election night tabulation be accepted. We can’t allow this horror to continue! Tip. I said! Peep she cried out, and more government spending. For Growth tried to extort $1,000 jobs added. No, no and to double the half blanket the other thing coming on the time is now endorsing Lyin' Ted and Kasich are going to beat—she doesn’t have a great honor-they do the other thing before being married and there through the ages. And just now at 1001 delegates. Hm. Pols made big mistakes, they have all over the skin, fine like what do you expect her to be of help! They were protestants in his head to see. Lyin'Ted Cruz and 1 for 42 John Kasich was never a fan of Colin Powell after his misadventure. His eyes burned into her cheeks. Mr Bloom. Our tax, trade and immigration will be a very biased and phony ads, I can throw my cap at who I know who is self-righteous hypocrites. Paul Ryan, always readywitted, gave him in his eyes and his belief that good can triumph over evil! Something confused.

O wait. Good job I let off there behind the pushcar with baby Boardman to take your 2nd Amendment is under siege. Enjoy! Glad I didn't start the fight with Lyin'Ted Cruz and John Kasich of the United States. They broke the deal, no and to avoid trouble Cissy Caffrey told baby Boardman to look up where the gentleman off Sandymount green that Cissy Caffrey whistled, imitating the boys in the twinkling. Terrible! Besides they don't appreciate how kind President Obama was presented? Massive crowd, great people! Scratch the sole of my foreign policy. Reserve better.

Ah! And in a studied attitude and the U.S.A.G. talked only about grandkids and golf for 37 minutes in plane on tarmac? Well the foreskin is not which party controls our government, but any business that leaves our country is totally divided and our inner cities have been with us on the track of the money. It was dark brown with a certain castle of sand but Cissy was a hero and inspired generations of future explorers. I was here for BREXIT. A TOTAL POLITICAL WITCH HUNT! Just spoke to Mrs Clinch O thinking she was: now as then. Not my fault, old cockalorum. The sewage. All the dirty things I made a worse fool of myself however. Remember that till then, when she could sit so she said she is running TODAY for Congress, a ministering angel too with a wifey up to her with the pushcar and Cissy took off her hat to put on the instant it was her that told her to do ah ah. Complimented perhaps. Our country is no longer have massive trade deficits and job losses. He was so great being in Nebraska last week got into the house, a pathetic little glance of piteous protest, of course without letting him and gild his days with happiness. Molly. Looking for a quiet life, always with a much more. What truly matters is a kind of a young girl's love, voyage round your own house you certainly can't run your own little world. Peeping Tom. Make America Great Again! Worst of all things that Gerty MacDowell must be after eight because the sandman was on account of being sued Totally made up facts about me, still must fight So great to be so if Molly.

Great day in Massachusetts and Maine. Has to change or they might think it a house. Anybody especially Fake News CNN is doing poorly and like everywhere else in U.S. I TOLD YOU SO! Perhaps the sticks dry rub together in the ball once or twice and then Father Conroy handed him his hat to mother him. N.C. Even the once great Caesars is bankrupt in A.C. She was forced to go home and laugh at her sometimes. Then they sang the second verse of the time before.

On my way to tears, and outright lies, and congrats to Army! Tremendous love and enthusiasm at two rallies was incredible-massive crowd-THANK YOU ALABAMA AND THE SOUTH Biggest of all free people's, and Cissy told her that she was itching to give her an odd dig. I'm far away on the shelf and the choir sang Laudate Dominum omnes gentes and then Cissy popped up her head and crimsoned at the church.

Just a few. Stare the sun for example drying her handkerchief on the e-mails-PAY-FOR-PLAY. Happy Passover to everyone! Wreckers. We are truly making America great again! —Nao, tearful Tommy said. What are Hillary Clinton's watch-she's done nothing in the entire Republican agenda if they solve the problem without them! That was their secret, only for the forty hours' adoration because it lasts only a few days ago, instead of golfing. The Business Council of Washington? That's how that wise man what's his name with the twins.

Gerty could see and Edy and Cissy Caffrey called out: had a good education Gerty MacDowell yearns in vain. Will she come here tomorrow? Great evening in the gathering twilight, wan and strangely drawn, seemed to hear the panting of his disenfranchised fans are for me. Buy from us. Crooked's stop in Johnstown, Pennsylvania, where we would have given that child an empty room hours before my speech on economic opportunity-today in Miami. L 72% of refugees admitted into U.S. since travel reprieve hail from seven suspect countries.

A gnawing sorrow is there any magnetic influence between the U.S.A. and Russia. Her phony Native American. Just watched Hillary deliver a prepackaged speech on ILLEGAL IMMIGRATION on Wednesday.

Dearer than the discredited Democrats-but I never could throw anything straight at school, arms round each other's appearance.

Unbelievable evening. Like a cat sitting beyond a dog's jump. Bailey light on Howth now. And you, Jacky, for a big rally in Florida. He has his bib destroyed. She then apologized. Marry in May and repent in December. You should focus their energies on ISIS, bad trade deals, broken borders, etc. Three and nine. Then there came out of town! They are total losers! Little hand it was simply a lovers' quarrel. As per usual somebody's nose was out of that and the short of it but he choked like a sigh of O! Onlookers see most of the money. Kind of a beam for grim life, always waiting to be silent. Buenas noches, señorita. It was Gerty MacDowell was … Tight boots? No.

Many of Bernie's supporters have left the Republican Nominee for President Clinton excoriates Crooked Hillary Clinton should ask for Federal help!

Pubs do. Where do they have.

Just heard Fake News media who thinks that Repeal & Replace of ObamaCare is and what joy was hers when she can't win Kentucky, she felt that she had found out the various Sunday morning shows. Crooked Hillary can't close the deal, and forgot to mention Radical Islam and Hillary Clinton is guilty as hell. Lyin' Ted Cruz. Word. Thank you Rick! Two houses they have in rich houses. They laughed at Bernie. What a persuasive power that girl had!

She would make him forget the memory of the gout and she was on show. Course. —A radiant little vision, in sooth, almost out of fun in his wife or some tragedy like the paintings that man used to support her, make him shrivel up on his kismet however. No, Gerty, rapt in thought, gazing far away. That half tabbywhite tortoiseshell in the near future to discuss the business, Cabinet picks and all of the ringdove, but if the Dems are making great progress with healthcare. I have it Great rally in Chicago. Ba. Now he can't get votes I am so proud of my campaign. Cissy queried. At once! Yes, it is sad! Will these leaks be happening as I deal on Syria-so what else is new? #DrainTheSwamp on November 8th! They will soon be over. Save. These politicians like the sea and they all looked was it late.

Many are not true-Carlos Slim, the cry of a present to give him something, she might now be rolling in drunk, stink of pub off him like a child of Mary badge, the ratings machine, DJT. Whistle brings rain they say. Very dishonest media thinks great! Three and nine. Leopold Bloom. The speech was a lot of complaints from people saying my name is not back. See you there! I love watching these poor, in another sphere, that is.

They want to refocus NATO on terrorism as well as current mission, but I am not mandated by law to do with the same. Goofy Elizabeth Warren, sometimes referred to as Pocahontas, pretended to be a very important decisions on the green but Tommy said. Scam! Is Cissy your sweetheart, spoke Edy Boardman said none too amiably with an approx.

All instinct like the paintings that man used to wear then with a long Roman candle going up over the GQ cover pic of Melania, will go to the fumes of intoxication, forget himself completely for if there had been more of it. Out of that other in spite of the secret of it someway. Major story that the Affordable Care Act Obamacare is a witch hunt excuse for big election defeat and the proud promontory of dear old Howth guarding as ever the waters of the past. What do they have all over them. Suppose I when I gave millions of tiny grains blown across. Media that said there is panic and anger as healthcare costs explode! Rupert Murdoch is a complete fold. For an instant there was all no use soothering him with creature comforts too for what they say if the flower withers she wears she's a flirt. I gave, he was too after his misadventure.

Let us all down, vindictive too for Gerty was dressed simply but with the selection of Kaine for V.P., is very dishonest to supporters to do. In just out book-THE WORK BEGINS! BAD JUDGEMENT was on display by the Democrats are overplaying their hand. Nightstock in Mat Dillon's garden where I am than some poet chap with bearsgrease plastery hair, lovelock over his dexter optic. Car companies and others are allowed in it's death & destruction! Look at the Blessed Sacrament and knelt down and he pranced on the rusty bucket, thinking. Us too: the hour at the Republican National Convention #1 over Crooked Hillary Clinton was SO INSULTING to my son, Eric, did a great job at the Democratic Convention! Pubs do. Every bullet has its billet. Cause of half the trouble. He's not smart enough to run. I conceived it with a box of paints because it lasts only a fortnight before like a big problem!

A lot of wedding emails. Congress. Despite a totally one-sided deal from the nature of woman in U.S. political history! Cissy took off the accommodation walk beside the waves, after a packed rally.

She smelt an onion. Bread cast on the budget, jobs are coming back to her nose and promised him the card to read poetry and when we were just like a fine fine veil or web they have no border, we will prevail! Tide comes here. Picking holes in each other's necks or with ten fingers locked, kissing and whispering secrets about nothing. Obama A.G. Where was that the Freedom Caucus will hurt Hillary? How can Hillary run the White House. Begins to feel too much because she felt that she did! Land of the gentleman in the pushcar and then he hastened from the turpentine probably in the cupboard. Drawers: little kick, taking them off.

She doesn't have a judge would put our country from certain pundits because I have negotiated on military purchases and more, ALL of which she always tried to conceal it. If Bernie Sanders too hard yet because I have a clue. A statement made by Mrs. Obama about Crooked Hillary Clinton than Bernie Sanders is being treated very badly by the 16,500 border patrol agents have issue a presidential primary endorsement—me! Anybody especially Fake News media who thinks that Repeal & Replace of ObamaCare is a way.

And when her things came home from the beginning. You can tell them to come there to be over. Children always want to admit those who implored her powerful protection were ever abandoned by her looking as black as thunder that she used to support son Clinton is trying to do well when Paul Ryan does zilch! Jewels diamonds flash better.

Better sit still. Very unfair! Tom and Mr Dignam and Mrs and Patsy and Freddy Dignam and Mrs and Patsy and Freddy Dignam and they both ran after it in violet ink that she used to get in Harvard. See her as she limped away. He flung his wooden pen away. She felt a kind of language between us. Rocket and breeches buoy and lifeboat. How are you bob against. #MAGA! The people of the people. Run Bernie, media would go wild I always knew he could see all the help I can get started early, Mexico will pay for the U.S. Interesting how the U.S. I TOLD YOU SO!

We need to be out, holy virgin of virgins. Bus crash in Tennessee so sad & irrelevant! Just got back from Colorado. Things will work out fine between the U.S.A. and Russia. And baby prattled after her run and she knew too about the geegee and where was Cissy gone and then he put in the tense hush, they were, superbly expressive, but this is about RADICAL ISLAMIC TERRORISM and the Middle-East have been a highlight of my Commander-in-law he hawked about, taking snuff. Stays. Bread cast on the sideboard watching. Tip. How can she run for president, knows nothing about me.

His gun rusty from the Republican National Committee allowed hacking to take your vote to save it by making very dumb political statements about me. Ugly: no woman thinks she is the true elected president. Instead of working to fix it, stirs. Why Molly likes opoponax. Today we are transferring power from Washington, D.C. and giving it back to her! Very dishonest media! We need to be in the Coffee Palace.

Gerty's were of finely veined alabaster with tapering fingers and as white as lemonjuice and queen Ann's pudding of delightful creaminess had won golden opinions from all because she thought and thought about those times because she wanted to run off and play with Jacky and to avoid trouble Cissy Caffrey not to let fly. The media makes this a big federal lawsuit similar in certain ways to the Virgin most powerful, Virgin most merciful. She smelt an onion. Looks like a big rally!

We will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! #VoteTrump today! Good timing, I am in Colorado-big problem for years at the theater by the by that.

I have been playing the women's fault also. Just close my eyes a moment and she was just beginning to play with his stick gently vexed the thick sand at his belt gleaming here and there through the small guts for nothing. Judge Neil Gorsuch for the mess the U.S. for long enough. Tremendous crowds and spirit. Many of his pocket, getting nervous, and now they want even if—what then? Always know a fellow when they knew, and the U.S.A.G. was not a pin cared Ciss. China will properly deal with Bernie Sanders and all of my campaign has perhaps more cash than any in the convent garden.

Messy system. Irish Lights board. Busy day planned-but I heard that the Iranians killed the scientist who helped the U.S. must immediately stop taking in people from Syria. Chaps that would make the great State of Arizona, where jobs have been much easier for them to the division and kerchief pocket and took good aim and gave a gentle hint about its being late.

#MDW Don't believe the people truly get what's going on in Great Britain, with a little canarybird that came out of their charm. Ten bob I got the questions?

No, I was only the end of a young gentleman in literary. If my people.

But Tommy said he used to get a free pass? That half tabbywhite tortoiseshell in the dark, whiff of stale boose. Sadly, I will have a cosy chat beside the Dodder that went with the twins. Lovers: yum yum.

Like to be his only, his lovely socks and turnedup trousers. He's not smart enough to run against is Donald Trump-Your support has been working on a lie. Meryl Streep, one of the U.S. Thinks I'm a tree, so much filth and never show crowd size or enthusiasm. People are not happy! Place is going to tell the time before. Winkle red slippers on. I called you naughty boy because I do not like or respect women, instance, warn you off when they hold him out, just look at it.

How many have you left? Better not stick here all night like a phantom ship. How much BAD JUDGEMENT was on show. Worst is beginning.

—It's fireworks, Cissy Caffrey too sometimes had that dreamy kind of waft. The Republican House Freedom Caucus was able to lead. Close in polls! All are. Why doesn't the media blames my supporters! Curiosity like a limpet. Our economy will sing again. Keep that thing must be horrible for them to meet President al-Sisi of Egypt. Their souls met in a man's passionate gaze it was her he was out of pinnies. Belfry up there. The media wants me to be grownups. Lemons it is really on a Twitter rant. She work a mess they are just made up facts about me. So I raised/given a tremendous amount of money she could whistle.

Numbers out soon! A truly great business leaders this morning on account of being sued Totally made up and down in front of her for her sake. We must be on the sly. Ba. A sterling good daughter was Gerty MacDowell, and her opponents are strong. Does anybody really believe that meeting was a big deal! As to the Virgin most powerful, Virgin most powerful, and it was a typically false news story. Can you believe that the Freedom Caucus, with her tongue out and vote West Virginia and Nebraska. And his wife.

Always support kids! Grace Darling. Media is protecting her! Watch! Wait.

Almonds or. Crooked Hillary Clinton-corruption and devastation follows her wherever she goes. After the litigation is disposed of and the U.S. in totally one-sided trade, a deliberate lie, now that you could imagine sometimes in the past. It never comes the same. Dishonest General Keith Kellogg, who embarrassed herself and blued them when they incorrectly thought they were told to go and Cissy took off her slim graceful figure to perfection. Milly delighted with Molly's new blouse. These are people who will run from her eyes and peered. We need strong border & WALL! I am President! The royal reader.

How many women in Dublin have it!

Scratch the sole of my speech on economic opportunity-today we honor the enduring fight for it: good evening. Working hard! If U.C.

I will bring jobs back to the truth. Not capable!

We are already winning again! Gibraltar. My native land, goodnight.

45,000 and got a fine tumble. Then ask in the Great State of Ohio know that John Kasich & Hillary Hopefully, all supporters, and Edy and Cissy Caffrey bent over to him to sit up properly and say pa pa pa pa pa pa pa pa pa pa pa pa pa pa pa but when she called me just prior to Election! A last lonely candle wandered up the word but she never made a false ad about me. Worst is beginning. Wisconsin vote is that my campaign manager and a penny. Governor of Florida, Rick Scott, for herself alone. We need unity & leadership. Wow, 30,000 for the veterans and the election, and the dainty dimple in his new tan shoes. Will be in jail. That young doctor O'Hare I noticed her brushing his coat.

And the tephilim no what's this they call it what you find. At once!

Might have made my decision on who I like her mother's taking pinches of snuff and that will ever happen! Earth Day, we will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN! President of United Steelworkers 1999 was any good, but it was leap year too and would soon be the best of that place where she was and she aired them herself and what the great people expected.

Did Hillary Clinton is guilty as hell. Wife in every nerve. Mushy like, said it was her that she was squinting at Gerty, half smiling, with little white hands stretched out, I expect, makes fiddlestrings snap. O thinking she was. Sure he has a career that is what must be prepared to look, look at him and tear his silly postcard into a tree from grief. For Growth tried to use leverage over me and lost. Drained all the strength of his gleeful eyes, a ministering angel too with a pert toss of her calf. All wrong of course their little tiffs from time to show her understandings. Willy's hat and the case won, then cream the milk and sugar and whisk well the white of the contact with the twins. There’s never been anyone more abusive to women in Dublin have it right go wrong that it was revealed that head of hair the like of that and VP cold. Time for the U.S., jobs and the U.S.!

#Ulysses (novel)#James Joyce #1922 #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Nausicaa #politics #American politics #presidential elections #21st century #Twitter #Donald Trump #2016 #2017

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majornelson · 7 years

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Xbox Is At PAX West 2017

It’s almost time for gamers to descend upon downtown Seattle once again for PAX West! The convention, running from September 1 through September 4, is one of the largest gaming events in North America, and Xbox has something for everyone planned throughout the weekend. Read on for details on the gameplay and activities you’ll find in our booth, multiple panels, Mixer streams, and PAX West sweepstakes.

Xbox Booth North Hall, 4th Floor, Booths 403, 411, 417

Experience Xbox One’s largest, most diverse games lineup in the Xbox booth! There will be 13 different titles available to play, including Forza Motorsport 7, Assassin’s Creed Origins, Sea of Thieves, PlayerUnknown’s Battlegrounds, Super Lucky’s Tale, Dragon Ball FighterZ, Cuphead, and so much more. You’ll also get the opportunity to go hands on with our newest and most powerful console: the Xbox One X!

In addition to games, try your hand at the Super Lucky’s Tale Claw Machine, take a picture in the Minecraft Experience, design a custom controller with Xbox Design Lab, learn more about Game Pass and Xbox Live, and see the Xbox One X up close. The Xbox Booth will be open from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. Friday through Monday and is only available to PAX West badge holders.

In addition to the activities found in the Xbox Booth, you can meet with Xbox employees and learn about some amazing non-profits in the Diversity Lounge, and sign up to test new Xbox products at the Microsoft User Research booth in the Skybridge Lobby!

Mixer North Hall, 4th Floor, Booth #425

Come meet some of our most influential partners and streamers at the Mixer booth! We’ll have two streaming pod stations decked-out in high-tech PC and Xbox gear, where our partners will be streaming from the Mixer booth on the PAX West show floor. There will be a “fan zone” behind the streamers as well, so attendees can engage with and be a part of the streaming action!

The Mixer team will also be streaming a steady flow of developer interviews, gameplay from some of this year’s most anticipated titles, including other unique content via our streaming living room at center stage, and via our mobile camera crews walking the PAX West floor.

Can’t make it to PAX West in person? No problem! Watch all the action happening at PAX West via mixer.com/mixer. And don’t forget to stop by the Mixer booth to sign up for your Mixer account and to secure the first ever Mixer Pinny Arcade pin!

Xbox PAX West Panels

Come hear from members of the Xbox team at a variety of panels at PAX West. Check them out below!

The Evolution of the Gaming Industry: Fresh Voices in Gaming

Friday, September 1 12:00 p.m. – 1:00 p.m. Sandworm Theater (Sheraton, Level 2)

The gaming industry has evolved a lot over the years as new and emerging voices are calling for change and the industry is beginning to listen. Join Xbox’s Gaming for Everyone team as they host a discussion with industry influencers who are working to make gaming fun for everyone.

Helping Others Level Up: How Gaming Supports Healthcare

Friday, September 1 4:30 p.m. – 5:30 p.m. Sandworm Theater (Sheraton, Level 2)

Video games and virtual reality have incredible therapeutic potential within the hospital environment. In this panel, including Aaron Greenberg, you’ll learn how games can be used to support the healing process, and how YOU can make a difference at your local hospital.

Streaming 101: Starting Your Quest

Saturday, September 2 11:30 a.m. – 12:30 p.m. Hydra Theater (Grand Hyatt, Level 1)

Every streamer has to start somewhere. Seasoned streamers share the tools you need to begin your journey into the world of livestreaming. Join Mixer as we go over how to set up your channel, choose the right moderators, and go live with style.

Major Nelson Radio

Saturday, September 2 3:00 p.m. – 4:00 p.m. Wyvern Theater (Westin, Level 4)

We’ve been here since the beginning of PAX in the mid 2000’s. Over a decade later we’re still being allowed in. Quick, come see this live show before someone figures our scam out! Join Larry Hryb, Xbox LIVE’s Major Nelson, lollip0p, and JEF United as we record an episode of the award winning officially unofficial Xbox-centric podcast Major Nelson Radio LIVE in front of you, our studio audience. It will be an hour of awkward audience participation, Xbox prizes, guests, and maybe some fun. Maybe.

Git Gud Ally: Beyond 101

Saturday, September 2 3:30 p.m. – 4:30 p.m. Hippogriff Theater (Grand Hyatt, Level 1)

Design, development, and community folks across Xbox, Mixer, and Gaming for Everyone go beyond Inclusive 101 and share the exciting projects and initiatives they’re working on. The panel will discuss what their work means for you and what kind of dialog needs to continue to create the best inclusive experiences for gamers. This is a moderated panel with a focus on Gaming for Everyone followed by audience Q&A.

PAX Xbox Design Lab Sweepstakes

Enter for a chance to win one of 10 Xbox Design Lab controllers, influenced by some of our favorite games. Xbox Design Lab allows you to create your own personal controller from over a billion different color combinations, metallic finishes, and rubberized grips. Check it out and design your own controller at xboxdesignlab.xbox.com.

There are two ways to enter:

Take a photo of your favorite Xbox Design Lab controller in the Xbox booth and share via Twitter using #XboxPAX #Sweepstakes. Don’t forget to follow @Xbox while you’re at it!

Follow @Xbox on Twitter and retweet one of their tweets mentioning the sweepstakes, including #XboxPAX #Sweepstakes.

You have until September 4 to enter. The contest is open to anyone from the US or Canada. Click through for the Official Rules.

via Xbox Live's Major Nelson http://ift.tt/2vFf5M8

#Xbox Live's Major Nelson

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ulyssesredux · 7 years

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Nausicaa

Because it was by moonlight that we followed the bird, whose glossy plumage matched the sky the spires of its little house to tell the time the oarsmen, sweet as on that distant night when we drove home. Little monkeys common as ditchwater. Women never meet one like that from? It was getting darker but he thought it must be a warning to him chokingly, held out her snowy slender arms to him to run off and play with Jacky and Tommy and Jacky Caffrey were twins, scarce four years old and, wretch that he who looks up to the Miss White. Moorish.

Madcap Ciss with her hat anyhow on her face was suffused with a threecornered hat was offering a bunch of flowers to smell rock oil. Damned glad I didn't do the other. She would care for him and the choir sang Laudate Dominum omnes gentes and then, smiling at the butt of my foot. Good idea if you're a man of Borneo has just come to men once and then green and flowery mountains of Cathuria are cinctured with golden walls, over which one might spy only a few roofs, weird and ominous, yet adorned with rich friezes and alluring sculptures. A.E. Rumpled stockings. Done. But Edy wanted to go where you know it: good evening, and whether the sea. Every bullet has its billet. Yes, I mean? Reserve better. That young doctor O'Hare I noticed her brushing his coat. Looks so forlorn. I think. It never comes the same time with the Blessed Sacrament back into his pockets. Richie Goulding: he's another. The propitious moment. Drunkards out to shake up their livers. That would suit Mrs Dignam because she wanted at Clery's summer sales, the fabric that caresses the skin, fine like what do you call it gossamer, and saw that magic lure in his wee fat tummy and baby looked just too ducky, laughing. Mansmell, I think.

Molly, her alabaster pouncetbox and the next moment it was her all in all her life to say poor Tommy was not true that she had raised the devil in him and the proud head flashed up. Something inside them goes pop. But her breasts were developed. Made up for hours. The old love was the master guide. One grain pour off odour for years at the same moon, and among the trees beside the waves, after the storms of this weary world, kneeling before the world drop down to potwalloping and papa's pants will soon fit Willy and fuller's earth for the pleasure cruise in the dark, whiff of stale boose. She jumped up and settled it all the same.

A truerhearted lass never drew the jugs too and, true to the happy folk, of all holes and corners. Cigary gloves long John had on his mind. Press the button and the two kids along with the flimsy blouse she bought only a few Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo. But if Master Tommy drew the attention of the West. Bad policy however to fault the husband. From far shores came those white-sailed argosies of old men and the way to find out who played the trick. Thankful for small mercies. Suppose she does?

Come. Good job I let off there behind the pushcar where the couples walked and lighting the lamp because she was just going to go deedaw and baby, no hour to be women priests that are no longer men, while none hath ever beheld Cathuria. O, and her face because she thought perhaps he might come to town. Then get a hogo you could imagine sometimes in the City Arms with the kiddies. Place made me do love sticky we two naughty Grace darling she him half past kissing time, time to spray plants too in the priest's house.

Suits her, make him awkward like those newsboys me today.

Not going to set fire to the flowers for the rest of his heart, his lovely socks and turnedup trousers. Curtain up. She wore a pair of gaiters the night that first we met. Put them all at it other way round is the Land of Fancy, and their babby home to nicey bread and milky and say night prayers with the burning glass. Ask yourself who is your sweetheart? Opening of his nibs till the sharks catch hold of him cooling in his hands off the grass. Yes, she?

O, don't they know! So it returns. Sister? Little recked he perhaps for what they had! Near her monthlies, I would, where as far inland as we approached the lily-lined shore. At first. Madcap Ciss with her hat anyhow on her forehead but Gerty though she didn't like her mother's taking pinches of snuff and that irritation against her stays that that foreign gentleman that was far away the hurtness and shook her hand at Master Jacky had built and Master Tommy was not a pin cared Ciss.

Just close my eyes a quick stinging of tears. She would fain have cried to him for a bride to have a good hiding for themselves to keep them in their swaddles and tainted curds. It was all the time by his heels in the most holy rosary and then Cissy popped up her head and the lore of books is the palace is of glass, under which he coloured like a nun or a medal on him for the asking. Say papa, baby. Saw a pool near her companions, lost in thought, gazing far away.

Time enough, understand all the world of good much better than the whole ghesabo would stop bit by bit. Coastguards too. Mr Bloom watched her as she is. Body fifty different colours. No, Gerty, Cissy Caffrey said. Green apples. Of his distinguishedlooking figure. And when I was young and perchance he might be, as glib as you didn't do it myself. Hm. Yes, it is for you, dear, and with it. Must be connected with that because he had erred and sinned and wandered, their eyes wet with contrition but for that one shortcoming she knew would come, shutting out the wadding and waved in reply of course. Are you not happy in your? Married too. Now won't you? All kinds of crazy longings. Could hear them all off.

Her griddlecakes done to a woman loses a charm few could resist. Names change: that's all. —What? That was their secret, only theirs, alone in the Burton today spitting back gumchewed gristle. Like to be silent. Come what might she would give worlds to know well, no and telling him about that in their faces. She thought she understood. First thoughts are best. But Dignam's put the letter em on her nerves, no hour to be grownups. Names change: that's all. She gazed out towards the sea came often to my father told to my grandfather there were stones and bits of wood on the infinitely distant horizon. And as we glided away into a mysterious South, golden with the dribbling bib and wanted him to sit on that stone. Not they!

Bold hand: Mrs Marion. Suppose he gave her money. Zrads and zrads, zrads, zrads. And just now at Edy's words as a present to give him something, she felt instinctively that he who treads them may nevermore return to his fingertips. Evening. Ba. We have rejected the beautiful Land of Sona-Nyl. Life, love, and she would have a beautifully appointed drawingroom with pictures and engravings and the gentleman in black who was conceived without stain of original sin, spiritual vessel, pray for us, vessel of singular devotion, pray for us, honourable vessel, pray for us, honourable vessel, pray for us, mystical rose. Did me good all the world in its transient loveliness, had misted her eyes that were and she just answered with scathing politeness when Edy asked wasn't she coming but Jacky Caffrey shouted to look over some nights when Molly was in that face, meeting his glance, and cities of gold. But Edy wanted to know because they were to have had a good opportunity to show what a great person she was near him she wouldn't trust those washerwomen as far as possible. Want to be seen on his holidays and Tom and Mr Dignam and they have their period.

From the East. If you fail try again, at once he had eyes in his chin. Never again. Not so bad. Her wellturned ankle displayed its perfect proportions beneath her skirt and just the proper amount and no more; and now there are you at all that darling little fellows with bright merry faces and endearing ways about them.

Dark devilish appearance. Must be getting on for it so they could talk about her pretty head in a towering rage though she didn't rip up her head and cried ah!

Big brutes of oceangoing steamers floundering along in the sea?

The strength it gives a man, she might like, twigged at once. Bad for you, dear. Nuns with whitewashed faces, cool coifs and their ball with her, with a canarybird that came out of pinnies. Nay, she could just go and Cissy Caffrey cuddled the wee chap for she felt that she too could write poetry if she could whistle. Page of an old maid, pretending to nurse the baby. Strength of character had never regretted it. Puddeny pie! Took off her slim graceful figure to perfection. What a great person she was ever ladylike in her stocking! Cissy gone and then are forgotten. Longest way round. —Nao, tearful Tommy said. That would suit Mrs Dignam because she thought perhaps he might learn to love her, bend down or carry a bunch of flowers to smell.

Nuns with whitewashed faces, cool coifs and their babby home to the works and she had a cultured ring in it and listened to it at the church the fragrant incense was wafted and with the instinctive taste of a jar by throwing in pebbles. If they could run like rossies she could have a cosy chat beside the Dodder that went with the golden domes of gigantic cities glittering on the floor of the moon was full we would listen to soft songs of the Narg, gay with blossoms of every hue, where as far as possible.

It's like a phantom ship. Bat probably. Didn't let her see me in profile. Blue, green, four and eleven, on the slab of damp stone which had risen beneath my feet.

Funny my watch. Byby till next time. Yet they do. Daresay she felt. Her shoes were the newest thing in footwear Edy Boardman, a perfect little bunch of flowers to his taste as Morris said when he and he said was true, for their honeymoon three wonderful weeks! Twenty years asleep in Sleepy Hollow. O, he fell upon his hated rival and to double the half blanket the other day. Children's hands always round them. Wait. Mr Bloom watched her as if it understood. Virgins go mad in the fine selfraising flour and always would be Mrs Wylie and in the home. If you don't know how to cry nicely before the mirror. First kiss does the trick. Complimented perhaps. Always off to a pleasant coast gay with gaudy fish not known beyond the basalt pillars of the moon was full and high in the dark, whiff of stale boose. —O yes, it was an old flame he was big strong fight his way for Master Boardman junior. Past that beacon for a father because he was undeniably handsome with an underbrim of eggblue chenille and at the graveside in the end of her scalp and that was far away on the wall a calendar which still remained as when I was? And I viewed by moonlight that we followed the bird of heaven flew before, and here hang the trophies of the azure sky, and to our eyes appeared on the track of the suckingbottle and the last glimpse of Erin, the rouge, costume, position, music. Were those nightclouds there all the freshness of a little heart worth its weight in gold. I mean. Should a girl with glasses. Suppose there's some connection. Dressed up to her throat, so that no man might peer beyond them or see their summits—which indeed some say reach even to fragility but those iron jelloids she had even witnessed in the fashionable intelligence Mrs Gertrude Wylie was wearing a sumptuous confection of grey trimmed with an arch glance from her, make him forget the memory of the pushcar while that young gentleman fairly chuckled with delight. Afraid to be over. Padding themselves out if fat is in fashion. Evening Telegraph, stop press edition! Sundown, gunfire for the fireworks and something queer was flying through the air was filled with soft songs of the tomboy about Cissy Caffrey too sometimes had that dreamy kind of a young May morning. She felt the warm flush, a perfect little bunch of flowers to his ladylove with oldtime chivalry through her lattice window. There she is. Weeping willow.

Made up for that. Women. She half smiled at him a moment deep down into her cheeks she looked so lovely in her gipsylike eyes and beheld myself upon the sloping meadows of Zar, for their sins. I'll run ask my uncle Peter over there what's the time that Gerty knew it and saw it too because she was a long long kiss. She loved to do that for nothing. And down, vindictive too for Gerty was womanly wise and knew that that was on his door to touch. And the children, twins they must be horrible for them, the rouge, costume, position, music. Liverpool boat long gone. Cider that was when she undid the strap she cried: A penny for your thoughts. Off colour after Kiernan's, Dignam's. Mr Bloom stooped and turned over a fragrant canal bearing the waters.

What's this? Keeps them out. And they like. It's so hard to find out. Did me good all the manhood out of it someway. She wasn't in a last lingering glance and the gardens are lit with gay lanthorns fashioned from the room with a private yacht. Then little chits of girls, height of a Thousand Wonders, wherein the oceans of the hours. Marry in May and repent in December. Long day I've had. Hm. And silently over the quiet seashore because Canon O'Hanlon put the letter? Ba. Would I like her mother's taking pinches of snuff and that was. Excites them also when they're.

Who could count them? Looked round. Tableau! Everyone thought the world could learn of what they like dressing one another. The sewage. Nannetti's gone.

Wait. Makes you want to, mother to daughter, I think. With the dawn I descended the tower, I saw, your. Open like flowers, blue, set off by lustrous lashes and dark and never again. At it again? Thanks. What do you expect her to speak out: dignity told her that time when she wanted to know because they were, superbly expressive, but I heeded him not; for Sona-Nyl is known of men like that thoughtfully with the dribbling bib. With the dawn I descended the tower, I mean? I want. And benediction of the world in its ivorylike purity though her rosebud mouth was a kind of a hat of wideleaved nigger straw contrast trimmed with an underbrim of eggblue chenille and at the graveside in the intermediate that was only this: a strange yearning tendency to the works and she and that was on account of a nondescript, wouldn't know what it was easier than to make herself attractive of course. Then did the moon was full we would listen to soft songs under the Moorish wall beside the Dodder that went with the instinctive taste of a play but she never had a clock she noticed on the slate and then slipped it back. But waiting, always waiting to be in early. How are you bob against.

—Nasty bold Jacky! See! The night of the sea she told her to catch them. Poor girl! Dressing in mother's clothes. Wide brim. Fate that is. All fades. Insects? Gerty's lips parted swiftly to frame the word but she missed and Edy, little wretch. Got my own back there. That's where Molly can knock spots off them. Some good matronly woman in a man's passionate gaze it was expected in the pushcar and Edy asked her the violet garters. Dressed up to the Virgin most powerful, Virgin most merciful.

At once!

She too. Bat probably. What? Lots must be, as fair a specimen of winsome Irish girlhood as one could get on to take him there behind the pushcar with baby Boardman was with little Tommy Caffrey was he a married man or a clock she noticed at once. But with all the time they were all greeny dewy stars falling with golden, O. She walked with a threecornered hat was offering a bunch of love, the whiterose scent, the only single thing they ever had words about, three garments and nighties extra, and the air to catch them. Thankful for small mercies. The old captains of the ways that were white and soft just like a polecat. Short snooze now if I had once seen through the body, permeates. All tarred with the dribbling bib. And I looked again, at closer range, and we were all breathless with excitement as it went higher and she just swung her buckled shoe faster for her and she and that tired feeling.

At it again? Will she come here tomorrow? Yet he was young and perchance he might be out because when she told her to him chokingly, held out her snowy slender arms to him in to study for a girl's honour, degrading the sex and being taken up to those heights seems to gaze upon the rocks in Holles street. A jink a jawbo. But Edy wanted to go home and laugh at her call for their daily bread and milky and say night prayers with the same. I were the newest thing in footwear Edy Boardman laughed too at the ends of the sacred Narg. Then make it up all by herself and what the great sacrifice. Dust. Forgotten. Howth settled for slumber, tired of long days, of shy reproach under which he coloured like a sneeze coming, legs, seated. Mr Bloom. His hands and face were working and a large apron. Chickens come home to nicey bread and many who had lost his wife. Still two types there are so few that I suppose. Forgotten.

Cause of half the trouble.

Dogs at each other behind. Whole earnest.

Has to change when her things came home from the room playing with their spades and buckets, building castles as children do, or even, if you were so foreign from the bay. Gerty who turned off the grass. Through the open window of the low. Good idea if you're stuck. Friction of the night I espied upon the deck a man from another woman. The twins were no exception to this day forward. Or broken bottles in the dark. Very same teeth she has. And baby prattled after her: Gerty! Every bullet has its billet. Twice nought makes one. Gerty MacDowell, a languid queenly hauteur about Gerty which was fresh but not least, on the rocks, but this time the movement takes. In their line. Through the open window of the West.

Might be money. Naughty darling. Hands felt for the opulent. Girl friends at school. Beauty and the perfume of the Tantum ergo and Canon O'Hanlon and he wasn't either to look over some nights when Molly was in mourning for from the door of Dignam's house a boy ran out and Cissy holding Tommy and Master Tommy was headstrong Master Jacky. Ask you do you call it gossamer, and who would understand without your telling out and Cissy tucked in the sand and Tommy and Master Tommy and Master Jacky who was seated near her foot but she wished to goodness they would take the snottynosed twins and she said to excuse her would he mind please telling her what was no sin because that came from the East tempestuous winds arose, and perfumed lakes whose beds are of aloe and sandalwood, even, even as the music rose and fell to the division and kerchief pocket in which she preferred because she knew. Grace darling she him half past four. Bears in the wood. And you a married man with a natural wave in it and looking up so intently, so beautifully moulded it seemed one an artist might have paid me that three shillings a pair of gaiters the night breeze lift, ruffle his fell of ferns. But the bearded man left the high school like his brother W.E. Wylie who was Gerty could pay them back in their places, the image of the candles was just beginning to play with Jacky and to mind he didn't wet his new fancy bib.

In Sona-Nyl is known of men like that. She put on the shelf and the way it did not err on the premium. Cathuria, I suppose, at closer range, and each set slotted with different coloured ribbons, rosepink, pale blue, mauve and peagreen, and with the flimsy blouse she bought only a fortnight before like a pickaxe.

No reasonable offer refused. But might happen sometime, I mean. —Now, baby. Cut with grass or paper worst. Mass seems to dog it. She had cut it that way! I bought her the time she was squinting at Gerty, Cissy Caffrey said. Some good matronly woman in a last lingering glance and the lore of books is the palace of Dorieb, whom some say reach even to the mischief out of which she always tried to conceal it.

Except the east: Mary, star of the Woman Beautiful page of the candles, the White Ship followed the bird, and here resound the soft notes of the dark evening in the sun was set. Edy wanted to go but they had stewed cockles and periwinkles. Then they trot you out some kind of a mighty city; and sometimes at night Mrs Duggan told me its secrets no more; and the pealing anthem of the loaf or brown bread with golden syrup on.

A.E. Rumpled stockings. The three girl friends.

Feel it myself too. No room. —If you fail try again, Edy Boardman was rocking the chubby baby to and fro, dark. French heels on her back and the soap not paid. It couldn't be?

He gets the plums, and in the furze act as a burning scarlet swept from throat to brow till the sharks catch hold of him cooling in his look.

She drew herself up to her! Country roads. Heat brought it near his eyes off of her calf. She jumped up and look and if ever after he dared to presume she could see without looking that he was Gerty? Gerty is Tommy's sweetheart. Let it go.

Have their own use of everything. Little piece of steel iron.

Instance, that dull aching void in her carriage, second to none. Maybe the women's fault also. Tide comes here.

Always see a blotch blob yellowish. Also glowworms, cyclists: lightingup time. Good idea if you're a man. Very strange about my watch. His eyes burned into her cheeks. Red rays are longest. Not so young now. Now he was Gerty who tacked up on the sideboard watching. All the dirty things I made her his. Keep that thing must be killed in storms, telegraph wires. That would suit Mrs Dignam once like that because he was undeniably handsome with an arch glance from her shortsighted eyes. Well cocks and lions do the other. None of your spoilt beauties, Flora MacFlimsy sort, was Cissy Caffrey that held his nose. I will tell you the right time? Suppose he gave her the extra two shillings. She was a forward piece whenever she thought and thought about those times because she would give worlds to know or tell save the little brats of twins. Others in vessels, bit of money she could only express herself like that. Devils they are. Glad I didn't want to, mother to daughter, I would say to be architecturally improved by a loveliness that made her his. Something in all the time and Gerty noticed that that foreign gentleman that was about the halcyon days what they meant. Peep she cried out, and Edy after with the mop head and the next moment it was that? They got untied that he could see that and not to feel cold and clammy. The night of the oarsmen as we glided away into the distance was, in the pushcar and Edy asked wasn't she coming but Jacky Caffrey, to little baby then less he was a certain castle of sand but Cissy was a protestant or methodist she could not see whether he had been! Exhausted that female has me. Wrangle with Molly. But willed her to make him fall in love, a danger signal always with a threecornered hat was offering a bunch of flowers to smell. Hm. Done. Where did I smell it only half fun? Sometimes Molly and Josie Powell. Run you through the body, permeates. Excites them also when they're. —Let him! O by the by that. And baby did his level best to say when he kissed the cow. Ba. That's the moon was full we would listen to soft songs under the Moorish wall beside the waves, after the sun was set. She jumped up and down in front of Molly's dressingtable, just before we left Lombard street west.

Handed down from father to, mother to daughter, I expect, makes fiddlestrings snap. Dearer than the mountains, and she just swung her foot. Watch! Better sit still. Shrouded in mist they were left alone without the lamp because she knew would wound like the nobleman with the coralpink cover to write her thoughts in she laid it in the air which was fresh but not least, on account of the pushcar she was there plain to be all blotted out, and in the dark. Call that innocence?

And when I was in that simple fane beside the waves, after the sun was set. And the tephilim no what's this they call it gossamer, and with it. Never again. Fellows run up a bill on the spot. Our two champions claimed their plaything with lusty cries and to mind he didn't wet his new fancy bib. Well cocks and lions do the other. Then the heather goes on fire. Takes it for granted we're going to go deedaw and baby looked just too ducky, laughing up out of that lighthouse whence I had known from the bay, on account of the gout and she saw that magic lure in his hands off the twins' caps and tidied their hair to make her look tall and got a fine tumble. There she is spoil all. And as we sailed madly away from my far native land, the most casual but now under the full moon and dwelt in the sun. Strength of character had never regretted it. The stick fell in silted sand, stuck.

A dream of that. They're a mixed breed. Call that innocence? Remember about the halcyon days what they can't get. Where I come in. Besides there was one thing stopped the whole world would she be to him too on the floor so they wouldn't hear.

How many have you left? Thought something was wrong by the huge carven gate Akariel; but he could see that he was thinking about you so long as it went out to business he would never see them shimmering, kind of a strange dead bird whose hue was as good as gold, a five, and the proud head flashed up. El hombre ama la muchacha hermosa. Of a strange shining, hung enraptured on her sweet flowerlike face. The twins were no exception to this day forward.

For such a one she yearns this balmy summer eve.

Cause of half the trouble. Sometimes away for years at the lovely colour of her nose into what was no sin because that shaft had struck home for her petty jealousy and they were, so slim, so becoming in leaders of fashion, and having in their courtyards cool fountains of silver, where dwell all the same on account of being white and she ran like that out of its little house to house, giving his everwelcome double knock, went the nine o'clock postman, the fabric that caresses the skin, fine as anything about a thing like that frump today. From far shores came those white-sailed argosies of old papers.

People were so queer. Perhaps not to fight. Then I did.

Say pa pa but when she got a fine fine veil or web they have in rich houses. Were those nightclouds there all the difference for himself. Oughtn't to have had a full length oilpainting of her face, passion silent as the fragrant names of her shapely limbs encased in finespun hose with highspliced heels and wide garter tops. —Nasty bold Jacky! Little monkeys common as ditchwater. But just then the bell rang out crystalclear, more sinned against than sinning, or mountainous; that ocean is not silent. And the roof is of pure gold, a pathetic little glance of piteous protest, of whom all are gifted with unmarred grace and unalloyed happiness. Soon to our ears came the distant horizon. In my mind I would, where dwell all the end of her but Gerty could see from underneath the brim of her shapely limbs encased in finespun hose with highspliced heels and wide garter tops. Might get piles myself. He would not believe in love, voyage round your own little world. Sweet and cheap: soon sour. Better not stick here all night like mice. Who came first and after there was a forward piece whenever she thought and thought about those times because she once knew a gentleman, selfcontrol expressed in every limb from being bent so far and the way to tears, she. Old Barbary ape that gobbled all his sex he would give his dear little wifey a good cry and relieve her pentup feelingsthough not too much because she knew too about the time all the same. Take the train there tomorrow. Slowly, without as much as by your leave, sent up his compliments to all and sundry on to take his castor oil unless it was the very lips. Some light still. It couldn't be? Wristwatches are always going wrong. That's the moon. Twice nought makes one. Want to be born a gentlewoman of high degree in her pure radiance a beacon ever to the hospital to see. Why did I put the Blessed Sacrament in his head too at the church like a nun or a negress or a rich gentleman coming with a little but just enough and took good aim and gave a gentle hint about its being late. White Ship sailed into the room with a big ess. Dreadful life sailors have too. Ba.

Too late for Leah, Lily of Killarney.

Birds too. Or ask you what it is. If you fail try again, there, fascinated by a loveliness that made her his. Darling. See! One moment he had an aquiline nose or a medal on him and, my word, didn't the little bat that flew so softly through the small guts for nothing. Strength of character had never been Reggy Wylie's strong point and he who would woo and win Gerty MacDowell, and he wanted his ball and Edy told him too on the transparent stockings thinking Reggy Wylie used to wear kid gloves in bed or take a milk footbath either. But there was somebody else too that billy winks was coming and that irritation against her stays that that was an old maid, pretending to nurse the baby. Her words rang out from the wash and ironed them and she whispered to Edy Boardman your sweetheart? Her hands were of finely veined alabaster with tapering fingers and as white as lemonjuice and queen Ann's pudding of delightful creaminess had won golden opinions from all because she was. Lord, I expect, makes fiddlestrings snap. Think you're escaping and run into yourself. Well, aren't they? Then I did. From the East. O by the huge carven gate Akariel; but he thought it must be, as fair a specimen of winsome Irish girlhood as one could wish to see only him and tear his silly postcard into a madhouse, cruel only to be. The old captains of the setting sun this.

Neat way she carries parcels too. She slipped a hand into her as a present to give in to study for the curves inside her deshabillé. But the bearded man told me of strawberries and cream? Yes, I think so. And they like the eating part when there were any people that made him gaze, and with it. Eating off his cold plate. Then I will punish you letter. Wonder how is she feeling in that face, meeting his glance, and the next full moon I boarded the White Ship, and a navy threequarter skirt cut to the Miss White. No, I mean.

Well the foreskin is not silent. My native land, goodnight. Like our small talk. Opening of his pocket, getting nervous, and the others to pry and pass remarks and she was: and then Gerty beyond the basalt pillars of the past. Red rays are longest. O, father, a languid queenly hauteur about Gerty which was unmistakably evidenced in her stocking! Cut with grass or paper worst. But it must be on your guard not to let them fight for it is. Race there, and you have any guts in you. And the bird of heaven, over which our helpless barque was borne toward some unknown goal. And whether the wind and light. Whitehot passion was in deep mourning, she could only express herself like that, was scrupulously neat and clean and dark expressive brows. Say papa, baby, without as much as by your leave, sent up his compliments to all and sundry on to a house. —Habaa baaaahabaaa baaaa. No fear of big vessels coming up here. Gerty, rapt in thought, scarce saw or heard her companions, lost in thought, scarce saw or heard her companions, lost in thought, gazing far away.

And snatches of lyric harmony, interspersed with faint laughter so delicious that I suppose. Curiosity like a limpet. And I looked again, there was undisguised admiration in a sad plight he was too young to understand. In its wide halls many multitudes assemble, and as white as lemonjuice and queen Ann's pudding of delightful creaminess had won golden opinions from all because she had to have a beautiful calm without a cloud, smooth sea, the little boy too. Twice nought makes one. I nearly spoke to her!

I were the last glow of all too fleeting day lingered lovingly on sea and strand, on the sly. They take advantage. Wait, said Cissy, I'll run ask my uncle Peter over there what's the time the oarsmen, sweet, soft! Call that innocence?

—What? Birds too. Brings back her foot. Dearer than the cooing of the gout and she and says he. Must be some somewhere. And the bearded man to see. Longest way round. There were wounds that wanted they two to always dress the same direction, then meet once in dead secret and made her say. In Hamlet, that cry that has rung through the evening influence. Poor man O'Connor wife and five children poisoned by mussels here.

She smelt an onion. She would care for him with creature comforts too for a cup of tea. But who was really as bold as brass there was somebody else too that billy winks was coming and that irritation against her stays that that was why Edy Boardman with the glow of all at night, calling, wakening me. Catch em alive, O. Grab at all? She had no intention of being white and she was and Charley was home on his smart little suit. The colours were done something lovely. They feel all that bright with hope for the fireworks and something queer was flying through the mists beyond the basalt pillars of the transparent stockings thinking Reggy Wylie T.C.D. because the sandman was on account of the ages. Looks mangled out: dignity told her. For the aeons that I knew she need fear no competition and that was the right time up a bill on the pavement with all the manhood out of fun in his attentions when it was high time too was when we drove home. How much do I owe you? Their natural craving. But it was a past mistress in the bed for what's not there. Green are the houses and the men's faces on her brow and patrician suitors at her insignificant ones that had the bicycle at the thought a burning scarlet swept from throat to brow till the sharks catch hold of him! Something confused. At the dance night she met him pike hoses frillies for Raoul de perfume your wife black hair heave under embon señorita young eyes Mulvey plump bubs me breadvan Winkle red slippers she rusty sleep wander years of dreams return tail end Agendath swoony lovey showed me her next year in drawers return next in her heart, his left boot sanded sideways, leaned, breathed. Would I like because it's leap year. Plain and loved, loved for ever, they said. Cissy wiped his little mouth with the letter em on her hat for a moment deep down into her as she is with tiny hands. Then ask in the ball and he said he wanted his ball and Edy Boardman laughed too at the side of luxury, was Cissy Caffrey called to the verdant shore upon a golden bridge of moonbeams. But Dignam's put the boots on it, stirs. Safe in one way. Something in the dark, lowing out like seacows. Tired I feel. Pretty girls and ugly men marrying. Should a girl with glasses. Married too.

Lord, that lent to her with a little but just enough and took good aim and gave the ball and Edy after with the pushcar while that young gentleman fairly chuckled with delight.

Far from the shore stands the gray vapors of the oarsmen sang no soft songs under the Moorish wall beside the waves, after the sun. —Gerty! Madcap Ciss with her favourite perfume because the benediction because just then there was the only man in all those mysteries that man has striven in vain. Strength of character had never been Reggy Wylie's strong point and he wanted his ball and he wanted his ball and he stole an arm round the little chap enjoy that! If you fail try again, there, and each set slotted with different coloured ribbons, rosepink, pale blue, set upon tall pillars of the South it would glide very smoothly and silently, its sails distant and its long strange tiers of oars moving rhythmically. Padding themselves out if fat is in fashion.

There was none to come when the stormy winds do blow. Cissy told her that told her to speak out: had a good hearty hug and gaze for a certain castle of sand but Cissy was a little heart worth its weight in gold. Never find out. Kind of a haunting sorrow was written on his kismet however. How can people aim guns at each other behind. Love, lie and be handsome for tomorrow we die.

—Come here, flew there. Buy from us. Caressing the little chap enjoy that! It's fireworks, Cissy Caffrey that held his nose. French heels on her because the green, four, six, eight, nine. Different with me. Nearer the heart of man, Mary, how had he answered? Might be false name however like my name and the placid harbor wherein lay anchored the White Ship. With the dawn I descended the tower, I think so. You're not my sister, naughty Tommy said. Holding up her hand at Master Jacky who was really as bold as brass there was in deep mourning, she had tripped up over something accidentally on purpose with her tongue. Run you through the air, a pathetic little glance of piteous protest, of a surety God's fair land of Zar, for herself alone. Pity they can't get. But her breasts were developed. Course I never could throw anything straight at school, arms round each other's appearance. Mr Bloom.

—O my! How they change the venue when it's not what they like dressing one another to pay their devoirs to her for love was the allimportant question and she and that was why Edy Boardman with the instinctive taste of a marriage has been arranged and the last glimpse of Erin, the mice will play. And I viewed by moonlight the sparkling sea, the fallen women off the London bridge road always riding up and down in a profusion of luxuriant clusters and pared her nails with red ink make you split your sides or when she got a keepsake from Bertha Supple told that once to Edy to Jacky and Tommy and Jacky ran out to him.

It is the Land of the bluest Irish blue, indigo, violet. And it's extremely curious the smell. After supper walk a mile. Girl in Meath street that night. Then I will tell you all. Gerty with a single girl! Mullingar. She would care for him as a present to give them a ringing good clip on the thirty-first day that we know elsewhere; or at least so men relate.

Two and nine? There. A defect is ten times worse in a ring.

Yes, it cut deep because Edy had her own quiet way of saying things like that Wilkins in the zoo. It's the blood flow back when she asked you would you have a beautifully appointed drawingroom with pictures and engravings and the dreams of Time. How can people aim guns at each other a pinch of salt. Take the train there tomorrow. Just for a quiet life, laughed Ciss. She did it up with wind. All that old hill has seen. The gods are greater than any I had once seen through the dusk, hither, thither, with bowed head before those young guileless eyes. Someone ought to take them all at night the streets and the way of kindness, deserves to be silent. No reasonable offer refused.

One grain pour off odour for years at the thought a burning scarlet swept from throat to brow till the lovely reflection which the mirror to save the little pool by the huge carven gate Akariel; but he thought it must be after eight because the handkerchief spoiled the sit and a piquant tilt of her shoes if she was game.

What a brute he had eyes in his eyes there would be and that baby was to be something great, they prayed, queen of the West. Please keep off the London bridge road always riding up and look and suggest and let you see. Her mother's birthday that was so quiet and clean and dark expressive brows. That's the way to find out. Molly can knock spots off them. Handed down from father to, mother to daughter, I think. Body fifty different colours. But Tommy said. Washing child, I saw that he who looks up to his taste as Morris said when he, he did. And distant hills seem. Had her father only avoided the clutches of the palace is of glass, under which flow the cunningly lighted waters of the hours.

His voice had a false arm. Still if he works that paragraph. Sister? Caressing the little kinnatt, because she had never regretted it. Salt in the convent garden. Darling. Then all melted away dewily in the Appian way I nearly spoke to her please. She smelt an onion. All that old hill has seen. Never have little baby then less he was looking at, and shed a cluster of violet but one white stars. Hm. Looks so forlorn. Howth settled for slumber, tired of long days, of yumyum rhododendrons he was what he was doing to it and then slinking around the back streets into somewhere else. Their natural craving. It was like the nobleman with the instinctive taste of a young gentleman in the heavens. Enjoying nature now. Old Betty's joints are on the premium. She wore a pair, astonishing bargain. Poor idiot! And says she and that Our Blessed Lady herself said to me. There was none to know was he done and he read out Panem de coelo praestitisti eis and Edy, little wretch. What? And the houses and the streets are white with the glow of that. To aid gentleman in literary. But might happen sometime, I am a fool perhaps. History repeats itself. Watch! Her blue scarf loose, laughing, and sounding mine own praises; the praises of me when I'm far away. My fireworks. Attract men, while none hath ever beheld Cathuria.

And the houses, and here he walks in, all right and she wasn't stagestruck like Winny Rippingham that wanted healing with heartbalm. Far away in the Erin's King, throwing them the sack of old men and the bird, whose glossy plumage matched the sky out of that so that she too could write poetry if she minds it till Johnny comes marching home again.

More put out about a hole in her delicate hands and face were working and a large apron. I have such a pity too leaving them there to that favourite nook to have a good enough colour if there was joy on her brow and patrician suitors at her sometimes. Nevertheless at the stone pier by the hand so they wouldn't fall running. A last lonely candle wandered up the sky out of sight, and she said, she could make him awkward like those newsboys me today. Let me be the first stirrings of unrest. Beauty and the eyes that spoke volumes of scorn immeasurable. Far away in the dark and his hands.

The stick fell in silted sand, stuck in the air which was unmistakably evidenced in her delicate hands and higharched instep. We'll never meet one like that from everyone always petting him. A monkey puzzle rocket burst, spluttering in darting crackles. In the gardens of these things, and each set slotted with different coloured ribbons, rosepink, pale blue, indigo, violet. —Nasty bold Jacky! Yes, there's the light. On the beeoteetom, laughed Ciss. Bat again. Ah. Must be near nine. All kinds of crazy longings. Then make it up. At it again? And as we approached the lily-lined shore. Bit of stick. A penny for your thoughts. The sister of the South it would always glide smoothly and silently over the sea rose lordly terraces of verdure, tree-studded, and saw it and they have their period. A defect is ten times worse in a blue moon. Mailboat. Typist going up and broke out into a dozen pieces. She rose. They believe in chance because like themselves. Healthy perhaps absorb all the thingamerry she was ever ladylike in her heart went pitapat.

And Cissy and Tommy and Jacky threw the ball quickly and threw it up. Sister? Howth now. And while she gazed her heart went pitapat. I dwelt there I dwelt there I wandered blissfully through gardens where quaint pagodas peep from pleasing clumps of bushes, and I walked out over the city was greater than that of the suckingbottle and the picture of health, till death us two part, from a stroke. Pray for us. But Gerty was womanly wise and knew that that foreign gentleman that was the benediction because just then the Roman candle going up Roger Greene's stairs two at a wake when the stormy winds do blow. Gerty just took off the altar with the twins at their boyish gambols or the gentleman opposite looking. All that the wouldbe assailant came to grief and alas to relate! Transparent stockings, stretched to breaking point. I had. It was against the full moon, I would say to myself, is the abode of gods and heroes that he who would understand without your telling out and said if she was hunting to match that chenille but at last she found one evening round the potherbs.

Mushy like, said Cissy, I'll run ask my uncle Peter over there what's the time. It was all things combined. There she is with them down there for the pleasure cruise in the Lady's Pictorial that electric blue selftinted by dolly dyes because it was a good hiding for themselves to keep the iron on because she felt 1. Liked me or what? Go home to nicey bread and many who had not found his ideal, perhaps his hair slightly flecked with grey, and chilled me as I am Basil Elton, keeper of the sea. Liked me or what? Liverpool boat long gone. Kiss in the air which was unmistakably evidenced in her gipsylike eyes and a light broke in upon her set her tingling in every port they say. It's so hard to know because they were, superbly expressive, but they would both have brekky, simple but perfectly served, for it is. Ah, yes.

But waiting, always with Gerty the girl chums had of Martin Harvey, the fabric that caresses the skin, fine like what do you sniff? Whew! O'Hara's tower. Have their own use of everything. And you a married man or a negress or a negress or a girl with glasses. Yours for the pleasure cruise in the bed met him, her eyes and his sandy moustache a bit of blue somewhere on her first. But he was laid to rest. Kiss and delighted to, mother to daughter, I mean? Work Hynes and Crawford. —I'd like to give or perhaps an album of illuminated views of Dublin or some place. Suppose he hit me. All quiet on Howth now. Wants to stamp his trademark on everything. Hm. They get a hogo you could hang your hat on.

Others in vessels, bit of a little canarybird that came out of pinnies. Why Molly likes opoponax. Got my own back there. Best time to show what a great notion they had a cultured ring in it and then Saint Joseph. I heeded him not; for ocean is more ancient than the mountains, and he wasn't either to look in that immodest way like that to witness. Gerty winced sharply. What about? But then why don't all women menstruate at the idea of Cissy saying an unladylike thing like that, supply soft and delicately rounded, and she had, clear and cool the fountains, and that tired feeling. Evening like this, the flowers for the forty hours' adoration because it lasts only a few roofs, weird and ominous, yet adorned with rich friezes and alluring sculptures. O yes, it is he stands silent, with a strong quiet face who had lost his wife. Dislike rough and tumble. That widow on Monday was it late. Never see them with three colours. A delicate pink crept into her cheeks. Not even the smoke. Then I did. Colours depend on the floor so they wouldn't fall running. Twittering the bat flew forth from the room with a private yacht. The new I want to.

Suppose I when I was only this: a strange yearning tendency to the beautiful eyes, for it: good evening, and the pealing anthem of the ways that were white and soft just like Cissycums. That's what they had only exchanged glances of the tomboy about Cissy Caffrey not to be asked and it nestled about her lame of course their little tiffs from time to kiss again. And then their stomachs clean.

They feel all that she was on show. I were the newest thing in footwear Edy Boardman was noticing it too over the sea. Tide comes here. You could see at once. See.

Not true. Same style of beauty. One night I espied upon the eidolon Lathi, that lent to her the extra two shillings. And I closed my eyes a quick stinging of tears. He was eying her as she limped away. All tarred with the kiddies. Gerty they called her. Saw a pool near her window.

It was getting darker but he could be trusted to the works and she always tried to conceal it. Husband rolling in her pure radiance a beacon ever to the sound of voices and the air was filled with the golden domes of gigantic cities glittering on the mirror gave back to her please. Yet he was looking all the world of her but Gerty could see far away on the ceiling. They believed you could hang your hat on. Say papa, baby, Cissy Caffrey not to be lightly trifled with. Tide comes here. Glass flashing. Say a woman save in the brown macintosh. Perhaps so as not to fight. Liverpool boat long gone. Page of an old copybook. Devils they are. And the tephilim no what's this they call it poor papa's father had on his mind. —O my! As we drew nearer the green but Tommy saw it too over the ocean told me in a ring. All the dirty sand. Throwing them up in her young voice that fellow today at the next moment it was Cissy Caffrey called the man that was why no-one would have a good tuck in.

And she lived with her tongue.

She smelt an onion. Payment at the side that was far away on the way that ad of Keyes's. Coastguards too. Us too: the tie he wore, his hoarse breathing, because she had raised the devil in him. I was young and filled with the memories and the streets and the bird will squeak. No harm in him and she had a brickbat to keep them in hand. He brought it out of some people she knew would wound like the bird will squeak. Gabriel be it done unto me according to Thy Word.

Excitement. Now if you put those things on inside out and that that was the quiet church whence there streamed forth at times upon the platform of that land, the very it, stirs.

Puking overboard to feed the herrings.

Up like a rag on her back and put his hands back into his pockets. Miss puny little Edy's countenance fell to the verdant shore upon a golden bridge of moonbeams. Mushy like, tell by their eye, on the strand. What frightens them, the shape of his distinguishedlooking figure.

Can't read. Ought to go with them down there for the pleasure cruise in the fine selfraising flour and always stir in the gathering twilight, wan and strangely drawn, seemed to hear the panting of his days and he who treads them may nevermore return to his fingertips.

She drew herself up to her as she bent forward quickly, a languid queenly hauteur about Gerty which was unmistakably evidenced in her pure radiance a beacon ever to the verdant shore upon a face infinitely sad and wistful. Those girls, those lovely seaside girls. Willy's hat and the others did a sprint. Shame all put on the shelf and the proud head flashed up. Friction of the West, but watched me as I crouched on the bed. O, Mairy lost the pin of her she longs to be architecturally improved by a frontdoor like the nobleman with the soldiers and coarse men with no respect for a cup of tea. She'd like scent of that. Reminds me of that place where she never had a false arm. She would care for him as she mused by the huge carven gate Akariel; but he gently denied my wish, saying, Into Thalarion, the stars. Their natural craving. Pinned together.

Children always want to sing the Tantum ergo and she seemed to beckon me. Dogs at each other a pinch of salt. Gerty, half smiling, with little hubbies. He wore a pair of gaiters the night, when they have to travel many a long mile before you found a head of nutbrown tresses was never seen on a bridge of moonbeams. Because they want it they throw it to her.

Life, love, a pathetic little glance of piteous protest, of her petticoat running and her face was almost spiritual in its transient loveliness, with her favourite perfume because the last glimpse of Erin, the Land of Cathuria, but this time the movement takes. Then little chits of girls, those transparent! The strength it gives a man and soon the lamplighter would be Mrs Wylie and in the harbor of Sona-Nyl there is neither time nor space, neither suffering nor death; and there through the dusk, hither, thither, with blue appealing eyes. Coastguards too. Same time might prefer a tie undone or something or on account of a jar by throwing in pebbles. Tide comes here. The body feels the atmosphere. At Dolphin's barn a blind. It was like the eagle then look at it other way round is the abode of gods and heroes that he was too old or something. Looking from Buena Vista. Marry in May and repent in December. Funny my watch. There were wounds that wanted they two to always dress the same time with the soldiers and coarse men with no, nono, baby. All kinds of crazy longings. A.E. Rumpled stockings. Stuck. Ask you do you expect her to do ah ah. Yet he was out of the ages. I mean. Particularly nice old party for a quiet life, lifebelt round him, dance of the ringdove, but they had a group taken. Of young poets who died in want before the crash that I did Rip van Winkle coming back. Also the library today: those girl graduates. And Belfast. Because it's all arranged. Washing child, I saw that the wouldbe assailant came to grief and alas to relate! All a prejudice. Wide brim. No room. See ourselves as others see us.

All the dirty sand. Bit of stick. Martha, the City Arms. He was but eleven months everyone said and big for his age and the little brats of twins began to quarrel again and Jacky by the by that.

Moorish eyes. Place made me think of that. Thanks. Ah! It was darker now and there ought to be asked and it was not slow to voice his dismay but luckily the gentleman winding his watch, listening to it and Cissy laughed. Might be the one who married the elder brother would be twentytwo in November. Like Molly. Little sweetheart come and kiss me. Birds are like hopping mice. Then they sang the second verse of the tortoise, and saw it so Gerty drew back her girlhood. At it again? That's the secret of it. They floated, fell: they faded. The gods are greater than that of a general all round over me and half down my back. From everything in the Burton today spitting back gumchewed gristle. He has his bib destroyed. They were there and toilers for their sins. O Lord, that dull aching void in her pure radiance a beacon ever to the stride showed off her hat anyhow on her nerves, no clouds.

Time was when those brows were not men. Begins to feel cold and clammy. Mysterious thing too. Exhausted that female has me. Beauty and the young heathen was quickly appeased. O, he said, in another sphere, that reigns over the flowery meadows and leafy woods brought a scent at which I trembled. Remember about the boy that had pictures cut out of papers of those evening bells and at the Blessed Sacrament and knelt down and he said, in the valuation when I sent to Flynn? Gerty the girl friends were seated on the mantelpiece white and soft just like Cissycums. It's the white walks are bordered with delicate blossoms. Her first stays I remember looking in Pill lane. Offend her. Something in the valuation when I gave her the time? Two and nine. Like kids your second visit to the very lips. The colours were done something lovely. Will I? Houses of mourning so depressing because you never know. Might get piles myself. Fifteen she told me of that and not to feel too much because she knew how to end the conversation. Felt for the sacrifice. Go home. There he goes.

She would try to understand him because men were so foreign from the others did a sprint. Breath?

Would it make a man. Like our small talk. Just went as far as she'd see them scorching the things. Her blue scarf loose, laughing. Kind of a bluey white. Miss Cummins, author of Mabel Vaughan and other tales. Ora pro nobis. Useless. Peep she cried: Gerty! Hm. Nevertheless at the same time a bat flew forth from the steeple over the waters. He would be like heaven. I sailed away. She had loved him better than he knew. Must be connected with that because of the sacred Narg. When I said to Gerty: O, father, will you ever forget her the evening she dressed up in the fine selfraising flour and always would be twentytwo in November. Mr Bloom effaced the letters and samples from his office about Catesby's cork lino, artistic, standard designs, fit for a palace, gives tiptop wear and always bright and beautiful, and I walked out over the trees, up, up, look who it is really. Her maiden name was Jemina Brown And she said, so becoming in leaders of fashion, and she always kept a piece of cottonwool scented with her poking her nose into what was no concern of hers. Trust? Do fish ever get seasick? Yes, all is prepared. Still, I saw him under the bed. Gerty MacDowell was … Tight boots? Otherwise I couldn't have. Round the Kish in eighty days. Better now of course. Buy from us. Want to be grownups.

Leopold Bloom for it so Gerty drew back her girlhood. Because you were so different. All those holes and corners.

For such a one she yearns this balmy summer eve. Kind of a sensation rushing all over her higharched instep. Tired I feel. Yes now, look up where the white of the earth somewhere.

Not they! Look under the lamps. Can't read. The sister of the Most Blessed Sacrament. —A penny for your thoughts. Shrouded in mist they were afraid the tide is low, but could you trust them? Queen of angels, queen of prophets, of whom all are gifted with unmarred grace and unalloyed happiness. Always see a blotch blob yellowish. Strange name. Because those spice islands, Cinghalese this morning on the strand to see and see more and defy you if you're a man to see and Edy asked wasn't she coming but Jacky Caffrey were twins, scarce saw or heard her companions or the twins at their boyish gambols or the twins at their beck and call. So over she went there about the mistake in all her life because Gerty MacDowell bent down her head and a large apron. Howth and to me, who had first advised her to speak out: had a good enough colour if there had been there, fascinated by a frontdoor like the sea? Soon to our eyes appeared on the rocks. —O, those girls, those girls or is it all a fake? Gerty who tacked up on the waterjug to keep the iron on because she had ever seen. Wait for her. Must come back. Want to be wholesome. Mistake to hit back. Gently does it. Wouldn't give that satisfaction. Her maiden name was Jemina Brown And she tickled tiny tot's two cheeks to make him awkward like those newsboys me today. O but the dark, lowing out like seacows. Husband rolling in drunk, stink of pub off him like a phantom ship. Three cheers for the reverend John Hughes S.J., rosary, sermon and benediction of the bluest Irish blue, mauve and peagreen, and the spades and buckets and it went out for her. Wish she hadn't called me sir. And yet and yet! Well, aren't they?

The man who lifts his hand out of joint about the geegee and where was Cissy Caffrey played with baby Boardman in it shine the perfect ideals of all holes and pebbles. Howth a while ago amethyst. Ah. An optical illusion. Nobody. They believed you could hang your hat on. Gerty had her own father, and roofed with glittering gold that reflects the rays of the girlwoman went out to him to say nothing. O, responded Gerty, half smiling, with a canarybird that came from the grotto-born river Narg. The colours were done something lovely. Can't read. Birds are like hopping mice.

Perhaps not to hurt. Had kind fate but willed her to do with a divine, an entrancing blush from straining back and put his hands back into the house, giving his everwelcome double knock, went the whole ghesabo would stop bit by bit. Allow me to embark for far unknown shores. A penny for your thoughts. Nothing else mattered. Caressing the little mariner and coaxed winningly: Gerty! Cissy took off her hat at it other way under him. She was pronounced beautiful by all who knew her though, as folks often said, she could sit so she just answered with scathing politeness when Edy asked her the saddest she had to go and ride up and called them and she had a full length oilpainting of her head and a single girl! All changed. No.

And when Cissy came up Edy asked where was Cissy Caffrey called to the Tantumer gosa cramen tum. Frightening them with three colours. Howth now. Open like flowers, know their hours, sunflowers, Jerusalem artichokes, in this life and that was an accident coming down Dalkey hill and she told me liked to smell rock oil. Light is a kind of a surety God's fair land of Egypt and into the mist lifted, we beheld the green she wore that day week brought grief because his father kept him in all the dreams and thoughts of beauty. Let me. Glad to get an exhibition in the gathering twilight, wilt thou ever? Homerule sun setting in the Burton today spitting back gumchewed gristle. Don't know what it is. Homerule sun setting in the sand and Tommy and Jacky by the way that ad of Keyes's. Good idea if you're stuck. It was all no use soothering him with creature comforts too for Gerty was adamant. Trust? Why Molly likes opoponax. Watch! Like a cat sitting beyond a dog's jump. Her woman's instinct told her or she'd never speak to her nose. Married too. Wonder where it is. Featherbed mountain. Suppose he gave her money. From the East. And delighted to, kiss, to little baby Boardman to take them in their pipe and smoke it. Might be money. They would be like heaven. Leopold Bloom. Weighs on his smart little suit. Day we went out of them. Excites them also when they're.

Or the one bit me, This is the meaning of that place where she never made a worse fool of myself however. Curious she an only child. Still, I suppose, at closer range, and Edy and Cissy tucked in the dark. Or broken bottles in the ball a jolly good kick and it had appeared. Some good matronly woman in a blue moon. Also the form, the both of them every evening poured out of some people she knew too about the time before. Of marble and porphyry are the turrets of marble upon its walls. Must wheedle her way along the sand with their spades and buckets and it went out to him and the bird of heaven flew before, and to be kind.

Must nail that ad I must, carrying things in and out with his shadow on the Tuesday, no-one ever not even closed at first, sour milk in their stockings. The body feels the atmosphere. No. A dream of wellfilled hose. O so lovely, O.

Know her smell in a soft language I seemed to her!

No harm in him and then slipped it back. Lord! O by the dying embers in a man's passionate gaze it was him. Picking holes in each other's necks or with ten fingers locked, kissing and whispering secrets about nothing. But to be seen on a girl's honour, degrading the sex and being taken up to her! That gouger M'Coy stopping me to embark for far unknown shores.

At the dance night she met him pike hoses frillies for Raoul de perfume your wife black hair heave under embon señorita young eyes Mulvey plump bubs me breadvan Winkle red slippers she rusty sleep wander years of dreams return tail end of her stockings. So the White Ship on a bench marked Wet Paint. Faugh a Ballagh! Children always want to throw it to grow long because it was this, the matinee idol, only for the first to. And the floor of the South it would glide very smoothly and silently, its sails distant and its long strange tiers of oars moving rhythmically. Tide comes here. Very same teeth she has. Wish I had a good tuck in. Till then they had stewed cockles and periwinkles. —Tell us who is he stands silent, with her favourite perfume because the benediction because just then the Roman candle burst and it nestled about her pretty head in a soft language I seemed to beckon me to say papa.

Molly. Gerty's lips parted swiftly to frame the word but she never had a brickbat to keep the iron on because she had been there, fascinated by a loveliness that made her his. Three and eleven, on the staircase. —A jink a jink a jink a jink a jink a jink a jawbo. Say papa, baby. Very same teeth she has. The propitious moment. Nothing grows in it, falling in love. Tell you what it was simply a lovers' quarrel. Gerty the girl chums had of Martin Harvey, the matinee idol, only for the novena of Saint Dominic. The distant hills seem. Mr Dignam and they all ran down the slope past him, from a stroke. Also glowworms, cyclists: lightingup time. And then there was something about twilight, wilt thou ever?

For this relief much thanks. Not so bad. Might remain. Walk after him now make him shrivel up on the proud promontory of dear old Howth guarding as ever the waters. Up from the distant sea. Course.

After supper walk a mile. Little paps to begin with. Young student. Evening. Out of the transparent stockings thinking Reggy Wylie used to do something not very nice that you could be trusted to the roots of her jib. But he was big strong fight his way up through. Good evening. Must nail that ad of Keyes's. The strength it gives a man. Light too. And they all ran down the uneven strand to Cissy, to Edy to Jacky and to mind he didn't wet his new fancy bib. Give it to her and for an instant she was not to fight. Might have made a worse fool of myself however. No. She's worth ten, fifteen, more sinned against than sinning, or even, even, even as the grave, and they're always spinning it out. They were protestants in his wee fat tummy and baby, without as much as by your leave, sent up his little mouth with the unburied bones of those perilous seas wherein men say Cathuria lies. How moving the scene there in the bath, funeral, house of Keyes, museum with those goddesses, Dedalus' song. Or children playing battle. And while she gazed her heart went pitapat. Far in the high school like his brother W.E. Wylie who was it rubbed the menthol cone on her brow and patrician suitors at her sometimes. Must be getting on for it and his sandy moustache a bit of a quiver in the same time with the golden domes of gigantic cities glittering on the side that was too old or something. Saves them. But it was and she leaned back and he told to me. And when the stormy winds do blow. Dreamt last night? They would be tall with broad shoulders she had even witnessed in the dark. Clings to everything she takes off. Cissy told him no, no and telling him about the farmer in the extreme.

The slight contretemps claimed her attention but in two twos she set that little hint she gave a kick but she never forgot every fortnight the chlorate of lime Mr Tunney the grocer's christmas almanac, the City Arms with the reluctant bearded man again implored me to introduce my. I do not like. Come in, all is prepared. Hyacinth perfume made of oil of ether or something or on account of the game.

Gabriel be it done unto me according to Thy Word. He was so kind and holy and often she thought she might now be rolling in her sweet girlish shyness that of a hat of wideleaved nigger straw contrast trimmed with an arch glance from her eyes. Molly it was not recorded in any age that those who have looked upon the stillness the voice of prayer to her and she let him and she gave had had the perfume of the celestial bird, and I know who is your sweetheart, spoke Edy Boardman was with little Tommy behind the wall coming out of fun in his wee fat tummy and baby, Cissy Caffrey not to be that rock she sat on. Particularly nice old party for a week on end you couldn't eat something poetical like violets or roses and they both ran after it in violet ink that she had even witnessed in the blue for luck. Here. This weather makes you dull. You are lovely, O, he and she said to me in a nice pace. Must call to the heel. Different with me. Puddeny pie! Had her father only avoided the clutches of the mountain snow. See him sometimes walking about trying to do with a strong quiet face who had beckoned now spoke a welcome to me in the Ormond damp. Howth a while ago amethyst. The year returns. A star I see. Have to let that be a warning to him. No, a girl He was so frightfully clever because he had meant to her and then are forgotten. Stuck. There was the right time? Or what they hadn't got and she had always admired tall men for a husband with glistening white teeth under his carefully trimmed sweeping moustache and walked down Tritonville road, smoking a cigarette. Also the form, the image of the world. Chap in the pushcar with baby Boardman was as good as gold, set off by lustrous lashes and dark and his sandy moustache a bit of her dream of yester eve. Little sweetheart come and kiss me. He of all is prepared. The pretty lips pouted awhile but then she cried. She had four dinky sets with awfully pretty stitchery, three garments and nighties extra, and of things more strange and more distant in space and time. Exhausted that female has me. Women buzz round it like flies round treacle. —O yes, it is for you, Gertrude MacDowell, a five, and it was flying through the laurel hedges. Lord, I am than some poet chap with bearsgrease plastery hair, lovelock over his dexter optic. Bat probably. Twenty years asleep in Sleepy Hollow. And you a married man or a rich gentleman coming with a scapular or a girl tell? The anchor's weighed. The new I want to throw poor Tommy was headstrong Master Jacky had built and Master Tommy and Master Jacky the culprit and said if she could see him taking out his watch, listening to the verdant shore upon a face infinitely sad and wistful. Roygbiv Vance taught us: red, orange, yellow, green, gray, white or black; smooth, ruffled, or playing with his shadow on the strand and slippy seaweed. Sharp as needles they are. Mutoscope pictures in Capel street: for men only. Comfortress of the moon was full and high in the later watches of the candles, the fallen women off the accommodation walk beside the sparkling waves and discuss matters feminine, Cissy!

Wore the breeches.

Also a shop often noticed.

Might be the first time since my grandfather and told him of these things, and their ball with her mother in the Burton today spitting back gumchewed gristle. Like a little jessamine mixed. But makes them feel ticklish. Apoplectic. She slipped a hand into her as if he truly loved her. Lord! Edy asked where was the right time? Tip. A penny for your thoughts. She would try to understand him because men were so different. I'll run ask my uncle Peter over there what's the time before. No prince charming is her beau ideal to lay a rare and wondrous love at her new hat she ventured a look at a wake when the painters were in Lombard street west. That's how that wise man what's his name with the umbrella. —O my! Think you're escaping and run into yourself. Have birds no smell? Of that land there is neither time nor space, neither suffering nor death; and now there are so few that I dwelt there I dwelt for many aeons. Gerty MacDowell, a sterling man, crushing her soft body to him to come back because they were told to my grandfather and told him too a haven of refuge for the rest of his gleeful eyes, a danger signal always with a big brother and sister without all that offer. Must call to those heights seems to be seen on his face. Yes, all is the Land of Cathuria with its splendid groves and pastures, bright and beautiful, and the choir began to sing the Tantum ergo and she saw that the city. Is it only now? What about? Jilted beauty.

And the women, instance, warn you off when they settled down in a porkpie hat to put on and he who looks up to the happy folk, of shy reproach under which flow the cunningly lighted waters of the world. His dark eyes fixed themselves on her sweet girlish shyness that of which she preferred because she knew too about the boy that had neither shape nor form the cheek of her nose into what was the allimportant question and she saw that the light in the incense and censed the Blessed Virgin and then Gerty beyond the basalt pillars of the mountain snow. That's what they had! Eightyseven that was for luck. Is it only now? Besides they say. Yes, it cut deep because Edy had her own right and she let him and told him of these things, too. Must be near nine. Otherwise I couldn't have. But makes them feel ticklish. Fate that is. Like our small talk.

Mr Bloom with careful hand recomposed his wet shirt. Cheap too. Enjoying nature now. Hopeless.

Bread cast on the weedgrown rocks along Sandymount shore and, my ideal? And time, well that's the time the oarsmen, sweet as on that stone. Or children playing battle. Girl in Meath street that night. Did too. And Cissy and Edy Boardman said she wanted him because men were so foreign from the full moon, and love her, bend down or carry a bunch of flowers to smell rock oil. Or bad? Opening of his head to see. Then came we to a plank or astride of a garden. It was there plain to be seen on a mirror. Bought to hide her face because she once knew a gentleman, selfcontrol expressed in every nerve.

Always off to a woman loses a charm with every pin she takes off. Sticks too like a second mother in the ridingboots and spurs at the lamp with his hands were of finely veined alabaster with tapering fingers and as I am than some poet chap with bearsgrease plastery hair, lovelock over his dexter optic. O thinking she was not true that she was sincerity itself, one of love's little ruses. To aid gentleman in the face that he was a suspicion of a hat of wideleaved nigger straw contrast trimmed with an underbrim of eggblue chenille and at the lamp because she had raised the devil in him and tear his silly postcard into a tree, so I would often picture the whole hog, say: I want a drink of water. A brief cold blaze shone from her eyes that spoke volumes of scorn immeasurable. From far shores came those white-sailed argosies of old; from far Eastern shores where warm suns shine and sweet odors linger about strange gardens and gay temples. I was only the plain little tales of calm beaches and near ports, but who can tell what lies beyond the basalt pillars of the position. Gain time. Catch em alive, O. My arks she called it. The Lamplighter by Miss Cummins, author of Mabel Vaughan and other tales. Cissy's quick motherwit guessed what was no sin because that came out upon the living Olympus. How sad to poor Gerty's ears! And Cissy and Edy shouted after them to see you. For this relief much thanks. She would care for him with creature comforts too for Gerty was dressed simply but with the twins. Gerty's lips parted swiftly to frame the word but she could see the difference because she wanted at Clery's summer sales, the green, blue, mauve and peagreen, and where the couples walked and lighting the lamp at his foot. A dream of yester eve. Naughty darling. Through the open window of the wife of the West. Looking out over the skin, fine like what do you sniff? Earth for instance those others. But her breasts were developed. And the cities as blissful gods view them from the days of my foot. Archimedes.

Not like that too, my word, but ever would the bearded man said to Molly the man who had erred and sinned and wandered, their eyes wet with contrition but for all that darling little fellows with bright merry faces and endearing ways about them. No, Gerty, rapt in thought, scarce saw or heard her companions, lost in thought, scarce saw or heard her companions or the twins at their boyish gambols or the gentleman lodger that was so human and chintz covers for the chairs and that was. Howth and to hear the music like that poem that appealed to her and for an ad to catch a woman's eye on a girl's honour, degrading the sex and being taken up to the fumes of intoxication, forget himself completely for if there had been himself a sinner, a pathetic little glance of piteous protest, of her then. Ba. Who came first and after there was an old maid, pretending to nurse the baby when they settled down in a brown study without the lamp because she would dream of that lovely confession album with the foreign name from the wash and ironed them and she would have given that child an empty teat to suck. An optical illusion. Blown in from the sea and meet in a soft language I seemed to hear the music like that out loud she'd be ashamed of her new conquest for them, light or noise? She him half past four.

In his sheltering arms, strain her to make a man among men. Came from the dew. What is it all a fake? Always off to a pleasant coast gay with blossoms of every hue, where purr with ravishing music the scented waters that come to town. Time was when those brows were not so many millions of tiny grains blown across. And the old familiar words, holy virgin of virgins. Suppose it's ever so many aeons. Mirage. There or the gentleman couldn't see and see more and more distant in space and time.

Passionate nature though he spoke in measured accents there was a palpable case of Doctor Fell or his carbuncly nose with the glow of that lighthouse whence I had known from the room playing with their spades and buckets and it gushed out of the gout and she did look a streel tugging the two twins and she was more a Giltrap than a MacDowell. Looks like a nun or a widower who had voyaged far from him, and that was.

For an instant there was absolution so long as it wasn't of a young May morning.

That strained look on her face was suffused with a little strangled cry, wrung from her shortsighted eyes. Put them all at it other way round. If she saw a long mile before you found a head of nutbrown tresses was never seen on that distant night when we were on the ceiling. They feel all that.

Jilted beauty. Circus horse walking in a garden. Molly was in the bed for what's not there. That's how that wise man what's his name with the baby. Bell scared him out to him chokingly, held out her snowy slender arms to him for the sister-in-law he hawked about, three fangs in her sweet girlish shyness that of a bluey white. She's worth ten, fifteen, more musical than the sweetest songs of the game. Or hers.

None of your twofaced things, too sweet to be a warning to him in tow, platter face and a navy threequarter skirt cut to the core. Complimented perhaps. I will tell you all. Ought to attend to my appearance my age. Dearer than the Widow Welch's female pills and she swung them like that out of a strange yearning tendency to the core.

There he goes. Featherbed mountain. Their natural craving. Well? Naughty darling. A penny for your thoughts. Petticoats for Molly. Ba. What do you call it gossamer, and beginning to lisp his first babyish words. All wrong of course Gerty knew Who came first and after Him the Blessed Sacrament back into his pockets.

Complimented perhaps.

But to be his only, his left boot sanded sideways, leaned, breathed. Same time doing it scraped her slipper on the quiet gravefaced gentleman, selfcontrol expressed in every port they say. At once! She must have, stuck in the extreme. Blown in from the South it would always glide smoothly and silently over the houses, and then are forgotten. That gouger M'Coy stopping me to embark for far unknown shores. Curtain up. Mirage. Devil you are. Too late for Leah, Lily of Killarney. Howth now.

Hot little devil all the time and asking her but Gerty though she hid it, thrown from a thing like that, supply soft and delicately rounded, and love her, one of the hours were filled with the sleeves back and thought about those times because she once knew a gentleman like that you often meet what you feel. Different with me. Flatters them. And baby did his level best to say when he and she was black out at night like mice. Suppose I when I was only wondering was it late. Her first stays I remember looking in Pill lane. In Hamlet, that imparted a strange shining, hung enraptured on her nails with red ink make you split your sides or when she went down the slope past him, tossing her hair. Three and eleven, on the green but Tommy said he wanted the ball and the air.

—On the beeoteetom, laughed Ciss. Has to change or they might think it a house. Birds are like hopping mice.

But she was. Other hand a sixfooter with a wifey up to the maxim that every little Irishman's house is his castle, he was like the postcard I sent to Flynn? Molly. Inclination prompted her to intercede for them to see the difference for himself. She would follow, her own father, will you?

Wreckers. Willy's hat and what the great monarch Dorieb, and sounding mine own praises; the visions of young poets who died in want before the crash that I sometimes feel strangely alone, as glib as you didn't do the other way under him. All a prejudice. Thanks. And among the trees beside the sparkling sea, the reverend John Hughes S.J., rosary, sermon and benediction of the secret lore of ocean. Gerty beyond the horizon stretched the grim, gray, white or black; smooth, ruffled, or mountainous; that ocean is more sensitive, I expect, makes them feel ticklish. She would make the great saint Bernard said in his attentions when it was like no-one to be lightly trifled with. And whether the wind howled eerily from the nature of woman instituted by God, he. Corns on his cheek, We have rejected the beautiful Land of Pleasures Unattained. And she can do the same. Glass flashing. Signs of rain gold hair threads and they all saw it too over the waste I saw dirty bracegirdle made me think of me, little spitfire, because she was in that face, Bertha Supple told that once to Edy to Jacky and Tommy Caffrey since he was looking at, transparent, and Edy and Cissy were talking about Cuckoo Cuckoo. Useless. —Tell us who is he stands silent, with tears on his mind. Where did I smell it only now? She could just chuck him aside as if he works that paragraph. Race there, and led us toward the basalt pillars of the night that first we met. It would have thought the end I suppose. Catch em alive, O, don't they know! She had red slippers she rusty sleep wander years of dreams return tail end Agendath swoony lovey showed me her next her next her next her next her next year in drawers return next in her next.

Stuck. Will she? Plain and loved, loved for ever. A penny for your thoughts. The paly light of evening falls upon a golden bridge of moonbeams. The clock on the waters of the Narg, gay with blossoms of every hue, where purr with ravishing music the scented waters that come from the shore stands the gray vapors of the cities of Cathuria with its splendid groves and palaces, each built over a piece of cottonwool scented with her golliwog curls. But Dignam's put the boots on it. But it was the puffpuff but Ciss, always readywitted, gave him in his head to see. Milly, no hour to be. Molly. Bailey light on Howth and to be all blotted out, the eyebrowleine, her dreamhusband, because she felt instinctively that he was out of pinnies. They were there and toilers for their daily bread and many who had not found his ideal, perhaps his hair slightly flecked with grey, and of things more strange and more to look, tense with suppressed meaning, that cat this morning on the rocks, and with the toes down. A last lonely candle wandered up the pushcar where the couples walked and lighting the lamp because she knew she could sit so she could call herself his little knickerbockers for him as she limped away. Little recked he perhaps for what they say. Bred in the hiding twilight and there through the mists beyond the bounds of lovely Cathuria. Mr Dignam that died suddenly and was buried, God have mercy on him, her dream of wellfilled hose. Say you never see them sit on that stone. For the aeons that I urged the rowers onward in my pocketbook. Tired I feel. Then I will tell you the right time up a bill on the rack. There. Come on, Gerty they called her. He called her little one in a garden. Art thou real, my ideal? And she told him no, that's the last time she'd ever bring them out. You would have to fly over the quiet gravefaced gentleman, selfcontrol expressed in every line of his handsome lips. Looking from Buena Vista. Always know a fellow courting: collars and cuffs. Old Barbary ape that gobbled all his faults she loved him still when he kissed the cow. Suppose it's ever so many millions of tiny grains blown across.

Begins to feel his lips laid on her face was almost spiritual in its ivorylike purity though her rosebud mouth was a story behind it. Result of the suckingbottle and the garters were blue to match on account of his handsome lips. Lacaus esant taratara. But who was it outside Cramer's that looked at me. Go home. —I know, Edy with the Blessed Sacrament. Different with me. Yes. Gerty was womanly wise and knew that a mere man liked that feeling of hominess. Ah. And Edy Boardman your sweetheart? I want a drink of water. All wrong of course Gerty knew it and Cissy poked him like a fine fine veil or web they have in rich houses. Wonderful of course Gerty knew Who came first and after there was just going to hurt you.

There too were forms and fantasies more splendid than any city I had. Or hers. Insects? Tell us who is Tommy's sweetheart. By screens of lighted windows, by equal gardens a shrill voice went crying, wailing: Evening Telegraph, stop press edition! Lighthearted deceiver and fickle like all his belongings on show. Back of everything. There too were forms and fantasies more splendid than any I had sailed so many hearths and homes had cist its shadow over her silly I will punish you letter. Then make it up. She jumped up and there was a protestant or methodist she could see from farther up.

Washed away. Well cocks and lions do the other way round is the abode of gods and heroes that he who would woo and win Gerty MacDowell yearns in vain. So once more the White Ship sailed silently away from my far native land, goodnight. Peep she cried out, holy Mary, star of the transparent stockings thinking Reggy Wylie used to wear then with a brave effort she sparkled back in sympathy as she glanced up and broke out into a cellar where it's dark. Never know what you feel like that, was scrupulously neat and clean and dark expressive brows. Might stop him giving credit another time. Better now of course and Canon O'Hanlon was up on the rack. And then she told herself that she had, clear and phosphorescent, to see over the city. The tree of forbidden priest. Cut with grass or paper worst. His eyes misty with unshed tears Master Tommy was not slow to voice his dismay but luckily the gentleman opposite heard what she felt.

Healthy perhaps absorb all the manhood out of its temples reached, so patient with little hubbies. The distant hills seem. Neat way she carries parcels too. Same time might prefer a tie undone or something. The gentleman aimed the ball and he kept on looking, looking up and down in front of Molly's dressingtable, just before we. Mamma! Molly likes opoponax. All my days have I watched it and saw that the man who lifts his hand out of the land and have seen herself exquisitely gowned with jewels on her pins anyway not like other flighty girls unfeminine he had eyes in his hands were just like a child of Mary, Martha: now as then. Just compare for instance pulling this and being pulled. Where we. O, Mairy lost the pin of her! Wonder if it's bad to go where you know she said to Molly the man who lifts his hand to a plank or astride of a jar by throwing in pebbles. It was the only time we cross legs, look at a time to time like the other.

Boys will be boys and our two twins and she was a story behind it. To aid gentleman in literary.

Hot little devil all the difference for himself. She put on the strand towards Cissy Caffrey caught the expression in his wee fat tummy and baby looked just too ducky, laughing up out of that I dwelt there I wandered blissfully through gardens where quaint pagodas peep from pleasing clumps of bushes, and roofed with glittering gold that reflects the rays of the rocks looking was Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo Cuckoo. Ugly: no woman thinks she is spoil all.

AM. Yes, I beheld the green and purple. Sister souls. I promised. Good evening. Chickens come home to roost. Must nail that ad of Keyes's. Off colour after Kiernan's, Dignam's. They were dabbling in the Coffee Palace. Kiss in the art of smoothing over life's tiny troubles and very slowly because—because Gerty MacDowell might easily have held her own father, and I walked out over the sea. She must have been as often of the position.

He would be going his rounds past the bed.

Wrangle with Molly. Who did you learn something. Perhaps so as not to hurt. Good idea the repetition. Dreadful life sailors have too.

And I'll write to you. Gerty's were of finely veined alabaster with tapering fingers and as I promised. Something in the morning. She's worth ten, fifteen, more, a man smell off us. Letter? Result of the south. And Jacky Caffrey called the man at the horse show. Because you get it out of his pocket, getting nervous, and to be wholesome. In Hamlet, that cat this morning. Padding themselves out if fat is in her own arms that were white and gold with a single girl! Passionate nature though he had a button one. Attract men, while none hath ever beheld Cathuria. Other hand a sixfooter with a box of paints because it was an accident coming down Dalkey hill and she whispered to Edy to Jacky and to be over. Longest way round is the palace of Dorieb, and Winny Rippingham that wanted healing with heartbalm. Work Hynes and Crawford. There were wounds that wanted they two to always dress the same spot. I glanced out over the sands the coming surf crept, grey. A defect is ten times worse in a towering rage though she didn't like the confounded little cat she was awfully fond of children, so slim, so beautifully moulded it seemed one an artist might have paid me that three shillings a pair, astonishing bargain. Say a woman loses a charm few could resist. Big he and she had to lean back more and defy you if you're stuck. Chickens come home to nicey bread and milky and say night prayers with the toes down. That's why she's left on the green but Tommy saw it too over the flowery meadows and leafy woods brought a scent at which I trembled.

Out of the position. Grace after meals. Bit of stick. It is for the afflicted because of him cooling in his family and of many things besides, in very truth, as of the ways beyond; and the perfume of those perilous seas wherein men say Cathuria lies. Call that innocence? She was wearing the blue banners of the seven seas. The sewage. Dreamt last night? Jilted beauty. Better. Archimedes. The gentleman aimed the ball rolled down the slope past him, from this to this day forward. You could see by her. Van: breadvan delivering. When you hold out the fork. Poor father! Thankful for small mercies. Never see them sit on that letter like the bird will squeak. Healthy perhaps absorb all the heart of the church the fragrant names of her! Walk after him now make him awkward like those newsboys me today. But the morning: was I drunk last night? And far on Kish bank the anchored lightship twinkled, winked at Mr Bloom. Watch! The night of the secret lore of old papers. It is for you, Jacky, for it and though many times since has the moon. In Sona-Nyl. Enjoying nature now. And when her nature came on her pins anyway not like. Gain time. Worst is beginning. From the East tempestuous winds arose, and Edy asked what and she let him and gild his days with happiness. So long as it wasn't natural so she simply passed it off with consummate tact by saying that that would make him shrivel up on the premium. I'll murder you.

Hyacinth? Can't tell yet. Lord, I suppose, at once by his dark eyes and a navy threequarter skirt cut to the death, steadfast, a danger signal always with Gerty MacDowell yearns in vain. Buy from us. Big he and he wasn't either to look, tense with suppressed meaning, that dull aching void in her shift on the instant it was. Impetuous fellow! There. Then they trot you out some kind of reassuring. Buried the poor husband but progressing favourably on the mantelpiece in the brown macintosh. Tommy behind the pushcar where the white of eggs though she hid it, and that was too after his misadventure. She had loved him better than he knew. Yes. She would have it right go wrong that it was a good education Gerty MacDowell must be a demi-god and others a god. It never comes the same on account of being white and gold with a wifey up to the core. The anchor's weighed. When we hid behind the wall of that land there is no bound, for it so they wouldn't hear. See ourselves as others see us. Or what they enjoy. Stuck. She wore a pair of gaiters the night breeze lift, ruffle his fell of ferns.

Its forests are of coral and amber. Naughty darling. Not so bad then. Offend her. Let him! The temper of him! Liverpool boat long gone. After supper walk a mile. Three years old she was just going to set fire to the dogs if some woman didn't take them all at it. Kind of a sensation rushing all over them. And pray for us, mystical rose. Ah! The wind grew stronger, and would soon be over. There was the very last time she'd ever bring them out of a good hiding for themselves to keep them in hand. Nevertheless at the butt of my grandfather there were some beautiful thoughts written in it. From the East. The stick fell in silted sand, stuck. A defect is ten times worse in a brown study without the others did a sprint. Must call to the gentleman was in chocolate and he read out Panem de coelo praestitisti eis and Edy Boardman said none too amiably with an arch glance from her shortsighted eyes. Our two champions claimed their plaything with lusty cries and to mind he didn't wet his new fancy bib. Peeping Tom. But Gerty's crowning glory was her wealth of wonderful hair.

#Ulysses (novel)#James Joyce #1922 #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Nausicaa #H.P. Lovecraft #weird fiction #horror #American authors #20th century #modernist authors #The White Ship #1919

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ulyssesredux · 7 years

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Nausicaa

And where was Cissy Caffrey. Almost see them scorching the things. Here's this nobleman passed before. Must nail that ad of Keyes's. Little paps to begin with. She's worth ten, fifteen, more musical than the sweetest songs of Sona-Nyl, and among the trees, up, up, and but for all that she had been more of these cities are strange orchids, and the bird of heaven flew before, and each set slotted with different coloured ribbons, rosepink, pale blue, mauve and peagreen, and the short of it but with the instinctive taste of a Thousand Wonders, many have passed but none returned. Husband rolling in her heart, full of sand but Cissy was a slight altercation between Master Tommy was headstrong Master Jacky had built and Master Tommy came at her sometimes. But not a pin cared Ciss. Hair strong in rut.

And pray for us, mystical rose. Bathwater too. Crooked as a ram's horn. And careworn hearts were there gathered together without distinction of social class and a large apron. Kind of a play but she wished their stupid ball hadn't come rolling down to her full height. Cause of half the trouble.

Never know what I said about his God made him wince. For Gerty had her own colour and lucky too for a certain purpose and felt the warm flush, delicate as the faintest rosebloom, crept into her pretty head in a studied attitude and the bearded man say to be seen on his holidays and Tom and Mr Dignam and they both ran after it.

All fades. There was none to come, to sit on that distant night when we were all subject to nature's laws, he did. At last they were afraid the tide is low, but they cut the silence icily. Washing child, washing corpse. Then mayhap he would give his dear little wifey a good runner she ran like that you could be trusted to the Virgin most merciful. I got the best of that lighthouse whence I had known, those girls or is it? She too. Celery sauce. Press the button and the perfume of the setting sun this. Makes you want to sing after.

I heard the shrieking of men, small thing like that out of his deep passionate nature and comfort her with the dribbling bib. Some good matronly woman in a resplendent arch. Bertha Supple too, my ideal? Excites them also when they're. And careworn hearts were there and toilers for their sins. Better now of course. Catch em alive, O. But she was when she went there about the flowers for the curves inside her deshabillé. Like kids your second visit to a fellow courting: collars and cuffs.

He has his bib destroyed.

All quiet on Howth and to be out because when you touch. Crooked as a ram's horn. But her breasts were developed. In Sona-Nyl. Hm. Just changes when you're on the wall of that place where she was game. Never have little baby Boardman to take his castor oil unless it was a wonder she didn't like the postcard I sent to Flynn? Might get piles myself. Drained all the freshness of a size too he and little bats don't tell. Marry in May and repent in December. Red rays are longest. The clock on the ear but she missed and Edy told him to let the blood flow back when it was expected in the land and have seen herself exquisitely gowned with jewels on her first. Because you were so different. Who knows? Might remain. Weeny bones. Glad to get rid of it someway.

Nearer the heart?

Because she wished their stupid ball hadn't come rolling down to her again drinking in her shift on the Beach, prize titbit story by Mr Leopold Bloom for it and they shed and ah! That's the moon. How much do I owe you? Past that beacon for a quiet life, lifebelt round him, and here hang the trophies of the tortoise, and besought the bearded man left the happy shore of far lands, bright and fragrant the flowers for the reverend John Hughes S.J., rosary, sermon and benediction of the South it would always glide smoothly and silently, its sails distant and its long strange tiers of oars moving rhythmically. Smelling the tail end of a shilling in coppers, with a little man in a towering rage though she didn't rip up her skirt a little strangled cry, wrung from her, make him shrivel up on the transparent and they had stewed cockles and periwinkles.

Maybe the women's fault also. Heart of mine! There were wounds that wanted healing with heartbalm. Buried the poor husband but progressing favourably on the strand with the letter? Howth. Ask you do you call it gossamer, and among the five young trees a hoisted lintstock lit the lamp near her window. He flung his wooden pen away. Leopold Bloom for it is told that once to Edy Boardman said she wanted to know or tell save the ironing. So the White Ship on a mirror. She half smiled at him. Nuns with whitewashed faces, cool coifs and their rosaries going up Roger Greene's stairs two at a time to time like the bird in drouth got water out of pinnies. At it again? But makes them polite. Into her. She gazed out towards the shingle.

Where do they get that? Then I did. Big brutes of oceangoing steamers floundering along in the morning: was I drunk last night? And she saw a long mile before you found a head of hair the like of that. Never have little baby Boardman was noticing it too over the flowery meadows and leafy woods brought a scent at which I trembled. Dislike carrying bottles like that, supply soft and delicately rounded, and he. Shame all put on and crosscat Edy asked wasn't she coming but Jacky Caffrey called to him in in the west the sun and enhances the splendor of the land of song and snatches of lyric harmony, interspersed with faint laughter so delicious that I urged the rowers onward in my eagerness to reach the scene there in the Burton today spitting back gumchewed gristle.

—If you fail try again, Edy with the twins at their beck and call. Look under the neck. The temper of him. —I'd like to give him something, she.

Ah, yes. O my! Parrots. And they all looked was it late. —On the beeoteetom, laughed Cissy merrily. Still there's destiny in it and then Cissy popped up her hand. And they all shouted to look over some nights when Molly was in mourning for from the turpentine probably in the City of a young girl's love, and after Him the Blessed Sacrament and Cissy told him to let the blood of the dark! The young are old. Returning not the Land of Sona-Nyl; for from the door of Dignam's house a boy ran out to him chokingly, held out her snowy slender arms to him for a father because he had known or dreamed of before. Bottle with story of a shilling in coppers, with her hat so that no man might behold their peaks; and there was meaning in his family and of many things besides, in the sun. Maiden discovered with pensive bosom. But just then the bell rang out crystalclear, more sinned against than sinning, or mountainous; that ocean is not silent. Children always want to sing after. It's fireworks, Cissy Caffrey too sometimes had that dreamy kind of waft. Write a message for her. It's the blood flow back when she tried it on then, smiling at the horse show. Miss puny little Edy's countenance fell to no slight extent and Gerty could see him taking out his watch and listening to it at any cost. Not they! Two. No reasonable offer refused.

Jilted beauty. Could do it myself too. Mirage. Must since she came to grief and alas to relate! Ticking. Always at home, skeleton in the cupboard. Better now of course.

—Come here, Tommy said. A penny for your thoughts. Cat's away, the bath, funeral, house of Keyes, museum with those goddesses, Dedalus' song. Potted herrings gone stale or. He's right. Useless. There was the right time and Gerty could see, not me. Still the blue eyes were glistening with hot tears that would take their squalling baby home out of harm's way.

He was so quiet and clean. But makes them polite.

No soft job. Looks like a stick. Evening.

But the bearded man said to me unknown. She was wearing a sumptuous confection of grey trimmed with expensive blue fox was not true that she bought in Hely's of Dame Street for she felt. This wet is very unpleasant. I called you naughty boy because I do not like other flighty girls unfeminine he had a good education Gerty MacDowell, and Winny Rippingham that wanted they two to always dress the same moon, and I walked out over the quiet gravefaced gentleman, the fallen women off the accommodation walk beside the gardens. What is the Land of Cathuria, I think.

It is the abode of gods and the reverend John Hughes S.J., rosary, sermon and benediction of the great saint Bernard said in his mouth the teat of the most casual but now under the lamps. And then there was absolution so long as you didn't do it myself. Drunkards out to business he would embrace her gently, like a caricature. Cissy Caffrey whistled, imitating the boys in the wind howled eerily from the mists beyond the basalt pillars of the church, blue, indigo, violet. Well. Maiden discovered with pensive bosom. With the dawn I descended the tower and looked for wreckage upon the platform of that. Neat way she carries parcels too. Here's this nobleman passed before. How sad to poor Gerty's ears! It was all the thingamerry she was going down the slope past him, tossing her hair and a most edifying spectacle it was a story behind it.

Whole earnest. Mansmell, I think.

Best time to spray plants too in the Ormond damp. Her hands were of the wave-tips or of the West.

—On the green she wore that day week brought grief because his father kept him in all the freshness of a monstrous cataract, wherein the oceans of the sea. And pray for us, vessel of singular devotion, pray for us, mystical rose. Girl friends at school, arms round each other's appearance. Healthy perhaps absorb all the time she was as good as gold, a smile that verged on tears, and here hang the trophies of the low. Her mother's birthday that was sitting. Got my own back there. Darling. Took off her hat so that she used to come when she was and she had even witnessed in the Coffee Palace. Molly and Josie Powell. Shoals of them and never would be Mrs Wylie and in the dark. Dressed up to the maxim that every little Irishman's house is his castle, he did. Ow! Gerty! You would have to get an exhibition in the hiding twilight and there the gleaming white roofs and colonnades of strange temples. What is the palace is of glass, under which flow the cunningly lighted waters of the suckingbottle and the burned cork moustache and they both ran after it, to see only him and then Cissy popped up her skirt and just because she had copied out of them every evening poured out of sight a moment to settle her hair for fear he could be trusted to the roots of her face was almost spiritual in its sweetness. But her breasts were developed.

No. Her shoes were the last man on our planet. Archimedes. Besides they don't know how nice you looked. Like Molly. Better go. I crouched on the mantelpiece white and gold with a box of paints because it was the very it, thrown from a stroke. Little hand it was half past the bed. Poor child! Why she waved her hand at Master Jacky. Martha, the old familiar words, holy virgin of virgins. Circus horse walking in a resplendent arch. But that vile decoction which has ruined so many aeons.

Worst is beginning. Van: breadvan delivering. Day we went out to shake up their livers. Poor idiot! Yet they do. But Gerty's crowning glory was her wealth of wonderful hair. No. Best time to time like the confounded little cat she was: and then he put in them. A star I see. No. Dress they look at him. Then get a man and soon the lamplighter would be no holding back for her.

Yet if I had. Fine eyes she had copied out of the North Point light that my father told to me. And Belfast. Lacaus esant taratara. Cause of half the trouble. The sewage. Or bad? He lay but opened a red eye unsleeping, deep and slowly breathing, because she thought he might be, as fair a specimen of winsome Irish girlhood as one could wish to see. He, not to be off now with him and gild his days and he saw and then slipped it back. Keep that thing must be, as though they would go to the maxim that every little Irishman's house is his castle, he said, she cared not. Sweet and cheap: soon sour.

Gerty just like white wax and if ever after he dared to presume she could make them though it was there plain to be good now and not get on her too. Almost see them with three colours. He has his bib destroyed. Fate that is about ships around they fly in the brown macintosh. Penance for their daily bread and many are the turrets of marble upon its walls. Ways of the horizon have parted to grant me glimpses of the cities as blissful gods view them from the shore stands the gray lighthouse, above sunken slimy rocks that are supposed to be grownups. —A radiant little vision, in sickness in health, till death us two part, from a thing like that. But lots of them and give them a ringing good clip on the ceiling. Glad to get and that tired feeling. At first it told to me, who had erred and wandered. Three and nine? And alas to relate! When I said about his God made him wince. The night of the hours were filled with the sleeves back and a navy threequarter skirt cut to the flowers for the baby in the house of bondage. Bred in the zoo.

And the old major, partial to his and the weddingbells ringing for Mrs Reggy Wylie might be, as glib as you like mushrooms because she was more a Giltrap than a MacDowell. She's lame! Tip. Lingerie does it. Widower I hate to see. And she could see her other things; of things more strange and more distant in space and time. Mr Reggy with his watchchain, looking up and down in a man's passionate gaze it was and always bright and cheery in the long autumn evenings when the moon shone full and high in the home. Well? All that old hill has seen. Gerty could picture the unknown Land of Cathuria with its splendid groves and palaces, and that's the time and asking her but Gerty though she didn't because she wouldn't trust those washerwomen as far as possible. Because it was by moonlight the sparkling waves and discuss matters feminine, Cissy called. There he goes.

Up like a rag on her nerves, no sign of funk. Not going to tell the time he. There was that the city.

Come. And then their stomachs clean. From everything in the days of my tongue. Life, love, voyage round your own little world. Ah! Devils they are. When three it's night. I suppose.

There was the very lips. Suppose it's the evening to and fro and little bats don't tell. He called her. Gently does it. She was pronounced beautiful by all who knew her though, as folks often said, in very truth, as of the celestial bird, whose glossy plumage matched the sky out of the Gold Cup race! Sometimes away for years at the stone pier by the dying embers in a man's passionate gaze it was to be over.

Always off to a woman loses a charm with every pin she takes off.

She thought she had to have a nice pace. Mass seems to dog it. Came from the grotto-born river Narg. Nuns with whitewashed faces, cool coifs and their ball with her mother in Irishtown. He's right. There was the master guide. Whew! Afraid to be. That's how that wise man what's his name with the pushcar she was itching to give him one look of measured scorn that would go on the weedgrown rocks along Sandymount shore and, my word, but who can tell what lies beyond the horizon stretched the grim, gray, white or black; smooth, ruffled, or even, if he works that paragraph. Best place for an instant there was one thing of all saints, they say. I wooed. Had, too.

The old love was the puffpuff but Ciss, always waiting to be alone like a girl lovable in the bed for what's not there. All instinct like the eating part when there were some beautiful thoughts written in it, high, almost out of fun in his famous prayer of Mary badge, the stars. Mistake to hit back.

No. The colours were done something lovely. She would fain have cried to him chokingly, held out her snowy slender arms to him too a word of pardon even though he had been there, dark. Willy's hat and the gentleman opposite heard what she said he used to look up, look and suggest and let you see. Over and over had she only received the benefit of a strange yearning tendency to the archangel Gabriel be it done unto me according to Thy Word. Mamma! Might be the first stirrings of unrest. Maybe the women's fault also. Don't want it they throw it to grow long because it was flying but she could just chuck him aside as if it understood. This wet is very unpleasant. Were those nightclouds there all the heart?

—I'd like to give or perhaps an album of illuminated views of Dublin or some place. Thus would I speak to myself, is the secret lore of old; from far Eastern shores where warm suns shine and sweet odors linger about strange gardens and gay temples. Yes. Besides I can't be so if Molly. But those iron jelloids she had a cultured ring in it and listened to it at any cost. No reasonable offer refused. And when Cissy came up along the strand to where there was a slight altercation between Master Tommy and Jacky Caffrey called to the works and she said to the verdant shore upon a face infinitely sad and wistful. —Nao, tearful Tommy said he wanted his ball and he read out Panem de coelo praestitisti eis and Edy asked her was she heartbroken about her pretty cheek but she fought back the sob that rose to her please. But the ball quickly and threw it along the sand and Tommy and Jacky Caffrey, to feel cold and clammy. And buy from us. Wife in every limb from being bent so far to see and to double the half blanket the other thing before being married and there were any people that made him wince. Just changes when you're on the swing or wading and she was as good as gold, set off by lustrous lashes and dark and never again would she cast as much as a burning glass. Lemons it is he stands silent, with tears on his kismet however. Tell me, come back to Father Conroy that one of the loaf or brown bread with golden syrup on. Friction of the land of song and snatches of lyric harmony, interspersed with faint laughter so delicious that I dwelt there I wandered blissfully through gardens where quaint pagodas peep from pleasing clumps of bushes, and each set slotted with different coloured ribbons, rosepink, pale blue, set upon tall pillars of the party long ago in Stoer's he was thinking about you so long as women don't mock what matter? Is Cissy your sweetheart? The tree of forbidden priest. Through the open window of the gout and she snatched the ball quickly and threw it along the strand with the foreign name from the East. Hm. A brief cold blaze shone from her shortsighted eyes.

Nevertheless at the same on account of the moon shine on the wall of that. Children's hands always round them. No. Walk after him now make him awkward like those skirtdancers and highkickers and she. Or children playing battle. Trousers? Cissy Caffrey said. Here was that the wouldbe assailant came to grief and alas to relate! I watched it and listened to it at the rain falling on the slab of damp stone which had a lucky hand also for lighting a fire, dredge in the same. Year before we. Parrots. Trees are they? Boof!

What? Nannetti's gone. How sad to poor Gerty's ears! That's the moon was full we would listen to soft songs of Sona-Nyl there is neither time nor space, neither suffering nor death; and now there are so few that I suppose. I have read more of these cities are strange orchids, and each set slotted with different coloured ribbons, rosepink, pale blue, indigo, violet. Shrouded in mist they were afraid the tide might come in on them and give them a good hiding for themselves to keep the shape she knew he could see the bright steel buckles of her window where Reggy Wylie T.C.D. because the last glimpse of Erin, the City Arms with the golden domes of gigantic cities glittering on the track of the ages. Gnashing her teeth in sleep. She did it up all by herself and blued them when they hold him out, holy saint Denis, that she could sit so she kissed away the lights of the seven seas. In the Land of Fancy, and after there was somebody else too that billy winks was coming and that was too I wooed. The glow of that so that no-one ever not even closed at first, sour milk in their pipe and smoke it. Ask them a question they ask you what someone was going to say papa. That bee last week got into the tabernacle door because the handkerchief spoiled the sit and a tremour went over her childhood days. Hopeless thing sand. More put out about a hole in her next.

She was about to retort but something checked the words on her nerves, no and to hear the music like that hag this morning on account of the newspaper she found one evening round the little bat that flew so softly through the dusk, hither, thither, with a remark about refreshments. If they could run like rossies she could convert him easily if he had a good cry and relieve her pentup feelingsthough not too much pity. Therein walk only daemons and mad things that are supposed to be tall increase your height and you have a beautiful calm without a necktie.

Mushy like, said it was to be a man from another woman. Very likely. Lord, that she used to wear kid gloves in bed or take a milk footbath either. Far away in the zoo. Or?

Begins to feel his lips laid on her face! That's how that wise man what's his name with the twins. Chap in the costume they used to wear then with a brave effort she sparkled back in sympathy as she glanced up and settled it all right and had seen her own colour and lucky too for what she said.

Hair strong in rut. Hands felt for the intermediate that was so frightfully clever because he didn't go and Cissy were talking about the geegee and where the couples walked and lighting the lamp at his foot. The moon hath raised with Mr Dignam and they had stewed cockles and lettuce with Lazenby's salad dressing for supper and when he sang The moon hath raised with Mr Dignam and Mrs Dignam once like that you often meet what you find. Curious she an only child. Nature. They stick by one, and beginning to play with Jacky and to mind he didn't wet his new fancy bib. Their souls met in a soft language I seemed to know or tell save the little chap enjoy that! It was dark brown with a wifey up to those Scottish Widows as I am Basil Elton, keeper of the girl friends. And baby prattled after her: A jink a jawbo. Wait for her and for all that bright with hope for the fireworks and something queer was flying but she wished to goodness they would both have brekky, simple but perfectly served, for shame to throw poor Tommy in the high school drawing a picture of health, till death us two part, from this to this day forward. Byby till next time. Twittering the bat flew. Country roads. That would have loved to read poetry and when she got a fine fine veil or web they have conquered.

Sweet and cheap: soon sour. French letter still in my pocketbook. No, Gerty, rapt in thought, gazing far away the lights of the eye brings that out loud she'd be ashamed of her heart that told her to be all blotted out, with a remark about refreshments. Why not? No, a soft thing, to forgive all if she could see him take his hand out of his waistcoat.

Look at it. She would try to understand him because she had so often dreamed. No, I think. In their line. It never comes the same.

In Hamlet, that is. That's where Molly can knock spots off them.

All my days have I watched it and saw that he was old and very quickly not one speck of sand but Cissy was a long mile before you found a head of hair the like of that land there is no pain or death, steadfast, a five, and told him about that in your?

Animals go by that. Back of everything magnetism. Buy from us. Every bullet has its billet. He brought it out of which she had so often dreamed. Naughty darling.

Mansmell, I am wet. Very brightly did the moon. And still the voices sang in supplication to the mischief out of the seven dolours which transpierced her own right and she just gave a nervous cough and Edy asked wasn't she coming but Jacky Caffrey were twins, scarce four years old she was awfully fond of children, twins they must be on your guard not to hurt he meant. Gerty, rapt in thought, gazing far away on the sly. Because she wished to goodness they'd take the shine out of them. She knew right well, thank you. Light is a kind of reassuring. She glanced at him and at the main every night and it nestled about her lame of course and Canon O'Hanlon handed the thurible to Canon O'Hanlon and Father Conroy put round his shoulders giving the benediction because just then the Roman candle burst and it gushed out of harm's way. Cat's away, the crystal headlands, and shed a cluster of violet but one white stars. That young doctor O'Hare I noticed her brushing his coat. Moorish wall beside the church like a girl with glasses. The wind grew stronger, and we were all greeny dewy stars falling with golden syrup on. Goodbye, dear, and then he hastened from the templed terraces of Zar, where dwell all the end of her! She had cut it that very morning on account of the immaculate, reciting the litany of Our Lady of Loreto, beseeching her to make a very great difference? Bit of stick. So once more the White Ship sailed silently away from my far native land, the image of the sea have grown clear and phosphorescent, to and fro and little bats don't tell.

The shepherd's hour: the tie he wore, his affianced bride for riches for poor, in ballrooms, chandeliers, avenues under the lamps. Wouldn't give that satisfaction. Her woman's instinct told her to kick it away and let them fight for it and then slipped it back and put his hands back into the distance was, in the home. All a prejudice.

He was but eleven months and nine. Chap in the air to catch them. Mr Bloom effaced the letters and samples from his office about Catesby's cork lino, artistic, standard designs, fit for a father because he didn't wet his new tan shoes. Loved to count my waistcoat buttons. But waiting, always readywitted, gave him in to study for the rest of mortals and she would not like. And the cities of Cathuria, I saw all. My memory's not so many aeons ago. Like a cat sitting beyond a dog's jump. Because it was nothing else to draw attention on account of the oarsmen sang no soft songs of the palace of the ways beyond; and now there are so few that I sometimes feel strangely alone, as glib as you didn't do it in the high school like his brother W.E. Wylie who was it late. Shark liver oil they use to clean. At first. Weeny bones.

What? A truerhearted lass never drew the attention of the loaf or brown bread with golden syrup on. Be sure now and not at her insignificant ones that had the desired effect because it was a man and soon the lamplighter would be wild, untrammelled, free. Ba. Yet if I went the whole hog, say: I want. She half smiled at him as a snake eyes its prey. Tableau!

Might be still up.

Might be still up. Gerty had an aquiline nose or a widower who had first advised her to him in tow, platter face and a piquant tilt of her! Puddeny pie! Because she wished their stupid ball hadn't come rolling down to her who is Tommy's sweetheart. Not like that because there was no-one else.

And when Cissy came up along the strand with the lethal, charnel odor of plague-stricken towns and uncovered cemeteries. Every bullet has its billet. Suits her, his hoarse breathing, slumberous but awake. Always off to a plank or astride of a strange shining, hung enraptured on her inside out and called them and be handsome for tomorrow we die. Shark liver oil they use to clean. Green are the turrets of marble upon its walls. Wreckers. She leaned back, about the time before. Young student. He was too. I was in a soft clinging white in a thousand times no. Beef to the convent garden. Tide comes here. And distant hills seem coming nigh. O Lord, I suppose. Their natural craving. A fair unsullied soul had called to him, and of things more strange and more distant in space and time. Sharp as needles they are when that's coming on because she once knew a gentleman who. All fades. Barbed wire.

She used to come back to the fumes of intoxication, forget himself completely for if there had been taking of late had done her a world of her she longs to be kind. That's how that wise man what's his name with the twins. Land of Hope, and they're always spinning it out of sight, and besought the bearded man to see the bright steel buckles of her she longs to be. The very heart of man, and felt her own colour and lucky too for Gerty was adamant. O but the dark and never again. Wide brim. Cigary gloves long John had on his kismet however. I'm a tree, so that he was so near. Faugh a Ballagh! Short snooze now if I had once seen through the dusk, hither, thither, with bowed head before those young guileless eyes. Besides they don't know how nice you looked. All a prejudice. Remember about the passion of men like that hag this morning over her. Very likely. And among the five young trees a hoisted lintstock lit the lamp at his neck and Father Conroy put round his shoulders giving the benediction with the pimples on it in the shade after the storms of this weary world, kneeling before the mirror gave back to Father Conroy put round his shoulders giving the benediction because just then the Roman candle going up Roger Greene's stairs two at a wake when the moon. Howth guarding as ever he could see from where she never forgot every fortnight the chlorate of lime Mr Tunney the grocer's christmas almanac, the City of a handkerchief sail, pitched about like snuff at a time to kiss again. Love laughs at locksmiths. Gain time. The paly light of evening falls upon a golden bridge of moonbeams.

Feel it myself. Come on, Gerty, quick as lightning, laughing. And if ever she became a Dominican nun in their stockings. Very likely. Or bad? Say out big, big. Instead of talking about nothing in the priest's house cooed where Canon O'Hanlon and he said yes so then she glanced at her call for their big sister's word was law with the reluctant bearded man spoke at last she found what she wanted at Clery's summer jumble sales like they have to fly over the flowery meadows and leafy woods brought a scent at which I trembled. Can't tell yet. Then they trot you out some kind of dreamy look in that simple fane beside the church, blue, indigo, violet. Then get a man, a ministering angel too with a smile reinforced by the hand says when you touch.

Done. They would be tall increase your height and you know she said, so patient with little Tommy Caffrey could never be got to take him there behind the pushcar and Edy asked her the evening and the name H.M.S. Belleisle printed on both. Course. Back of everything magnetism. Of that land, goodnight.

But even if—what then? No harm in him. It's so hard to know because they were, so flawless, so sad in its transient loveliness, had misted her eyes with silent tears for she felt instinctively that he was going down the uneven strand to where there was all no use soothering him with creature comforts too for Gerty was dressed simply but with the instinctive taste of a votary of Dame Fashion for she felt, that little matter to rights.

This is Xura, the matinee idol, only for the opulent. Far out over the sands the coming surf crept, grey. Like what? Never went back and thought about those times because she thought and thought about those times because she knew he could see far away into a joyous little laugh which had a brickbat to keep them in their places, the figure. She was pronounced beautiful by all who knew her though, as of the ways that are no longer men, small thing like that you often meet what you feel. And when her nature came on her back and he stole an arm round the little mariner and coaxed winningly: O, her eyes so that no man hath seen, but ever would the day I went within the tower and looked for wreckage upon the eidolon Lathi, that lent to her full height. That's her perfume. And the dark!

First kiss does the trick. The colours were done something lovely. My memory's not so many aeons. Nature. See ourselves as others see us. Tide comes here. Mr Bloom watched her as she is. Gerty's skirt near the little bat that flew so softly through the evening scene and the way it did not err on the night I answered the call, and sounding mine own praises; the visions of young poets who died in want before the world could learn of what they meant. No. —What's your name? The basalt pillars of the Congested Districts Board that had pictures cut out for the mother too. His eyes burned into her as a second thought on him, tossing her hair for fear he could see the gentleman winding his watch, listening to the convent for the troubles of childhood are but as fleeting summer showers. If he had been himself a sinner, a deliberate lie, when I had known or dreamed of.

That widow on Monday was it outside Cramer's that looked at them dreamily when she revealed all her graceful beautifully shaped legs like that and the choir began to get and that irritation against her stays that that thing up for hours. When three it's night.

Heart of mine! She looked at him. If you fail try again, there, race back to Father Conroy handed the thurible to Canon O'Hanlon got up and down in front of her then. She wore a coquettish little love of a surety God's fair land of song had to have a bit of blue somewhere on her forehead. It never comes the same moon, I suppose. Looked round.

Drunken ranters what I? Afraid to be silent.

Very likely. Shoals of them every evening poured out of the pushcar and Edy shouted after them to come, to little baby Boardman. And while she gazed her heart went pitapat. It was the place to push up the strand with the toes down. His little man in all, to feel cold and clammy. Good conductor, is it all the. And then a rocket sprang and bang shot blind blank and O! She could almost feel him draw her face was almost spiritual in its ivorylike purity though her rosebud mouth was a forward piece whenever she thought he might be out because when she clipped her hair on account of the rocks, but this time the movement takes. It was like the paintings that man used to look up, look, tense with suppressed meaning, that he could see the difference because she could almost see the gentleman lodger that was for luck and lovers' meeting if you have to get the fright of their lives. Pinned together. Apoplectic. But Tommy said it was flying through the evening influence. Mr Bloom with open mouth, his sister called imperatively. Byby till next time. Dislike rough and tumble. Do they snapshot those girls, height of a good cry and relieve her pentup feelingsthough not too chilly.

Washed away.

Muskrat. Now he was her that time when she was determined to let on whatever she did look a streel tugging the two twins and their ball with her high crooked French heels on her tongue. It couldn't be? What harm? Padding themselves out if fat is in fashion. Out of that lighthouse whence I had once seen through the laurel hedges. Throwing them up in her heart sometimes, piercing to the gentleman to throw poor Tommy was not a one she yearns this balmy summer eve. We can see from where he was like a real man, crushing her soft body to him for luck and lovers' meeting if you were trying to do on the rusty bucket, thinking. And when Cissy came up along the strand to Cissy, as glib as you like, said Cissy, I'll run ask my uncle Peter over there what's the time? And they all saw it so Gerty drew back her girlhood. Watch! Mushy like, said it was an infinite store of mercy in those eyes, so flawless, so flawless, so sad in its ivorylike purity though her rosebud mouth was a genuine Cupid's bow, Greekly perfect. Hm. It was Madame Vera Verity, directress of the West. Strange moment for the fireworks and something queer was flying through the small guts for nothing. Should a girl He was too old or something. Cider that was an accident coming down Dalkey hill and she gave had had the bicycle off the grass. Weighs on his cheek, We have rejected the beautiful eyes, for their big sister's word was law with the soldiers and coarse men with no respect for a palace, gives tiptop wear and always would be Mrs Wylie and in the sun was setting and the story of a little heart worth its weight in gold. And Cissy and Tommy Caffrey could never be lost or cast away: and fitly is she feeling in that face, passion silent as the grave, and shewing here and there was all the. Also the library today: those girl graduates. See her as though I were the newest thing in footwear Edy Boardman prided herself that as she limped away. Wide brim. Mass seems to be tall increase your height and you know it well. All that for a century have swept the majestic barques of the cities as blissful gods view them from the full moon, I would say to me, come back. Yes. Heart of mine! Then you have a cosy chat beside the church like a rocket, down like a rag on her nerves, no sign of funk. She kissed me.

With all the heart? Because those spice islands, Cinghalese this morning over her silly I will tell you all. All these rocks with lines and scars and letters. And the bearded man said to me, Beware of those skirtdancers and highkickers and she was a protestant or methodist she could not see whether he had been! And she saw that the light you see she's on for it so they could run like rossies she could convert him easily if he works that paragraph. Virgins go mad in the air. That squinty one is more sensitive, I think. Good idea if you're a man to see. But we did not err on the spot. Where I come in. Girl in Tranquilla convent that nun told me of strawberries and cream. O, don't they know! And pray for us.

Something about withering plants I read in a studied attitude and the ways that were and the air, a little house to tell the time all the world drop down to her and for an ad to catch it while it was an innate refinement, a danger signal always with Gerty the girl friends were seated on the shelf and the bird, and the bearded man left the happy folk, of yumyum rhododendrons he was young and perchance he might come in. And pray for us, vessel of singular devotion, pray for us. Must since she came to grief and alas to relate! Know her smell in a woman. Ought to attend to my appearance my age. Mansmell, I suppose.

I'll write to you! Not my fault, old cockalorum. Two. On the green and flowery mountains of Cathuria are all palaces, each built over a fragrant canal bearing the waters to the core.

The old captains of the South came never again. Daresay she felt that there was absolution so long as women don't mock what matter? Chickens come home to nicey bread and milky and say pa pa pa. So the White Ship, and a most edifying spectacle it was that in your? Wonder how is she feeling in that immodest way like that frump today. Never know what sort of person, the Land of Sona-Nyl; for ocean is more sensitive, I think. She had cut it that way. Poor girl! Swallow? Out on spec probably. Maiden discovered with pensive bosom. High is the abode of gods and heroes that he was sitting on the light had failed for the first to. He flung his wooden pen away. No, I suppose. AM. I think. But what I found was only the end of her own colour and lucky too for what she felt instinctively that he was young and filled with soft songs of the wondrous revealment half offered like those skirtdancers behaving so immodest before gentlemen looking and he pranced on the wall coming out and that Our Blessed Lady herself said to me in the heavens. Source of life, laughed Cissy merrily. He told her to catch a woman's eye on her white brow, the fabric that caresses the skin, better than those other pettiwidth, the candles was just thinking would the bearded man again implored me to say papa.

—Is Edy Boardman was as good as gold, a daintier head of hair the like of that, and but for all that we know elsewhere; or at least so men relate. Look under the sun. Her first stays I remember. Sweet and cheap: soon sour. It's fireworks, Cissy! Like our small talk. Must wheedle her way along the strand with the flimsy blouse she bought only a few roofs, weird and ominous, yet adorned with rich friezes and alluring sculptures. Round the Kish in eighty days. And I closed my eyes and his bit of a vessel breaking up on the waters to the Tantumer gosa cramen tum. Molly. Very strange about my watch. Time enough, understand all the time she was when she was determined to let them fight for it so Gerty drew back her foot but she never had a brickbat to keep the shape she knew she could whistle. Out of that. Till Mr Right comes along, then meet once in a woman loses a charm few could resist. For instance when she got a keepsake from Bertha Supple told that once to Edy Boardman said. Same time might prefer a tie undone or something. Still two types there are you at all. Attract men, while none hath ever beheld Cathuria. Almonds or. Suppose it's the only man in all her graceful beautifully shaped legs like that thoughtfully with the veil that Father Conroy handed the thurible back to see and see more and defy you if you're a man. She too. Who did you learn something. Nothing new under the full moon and it went out to shake up their livers. Did me good all the freshness of a beam for grim life, laughed Ciss. Yes. Clever little minx. Forgotten. Potted herrings gone stale or. Where we. Puking overboard to feed the herrings. A brief cold blaze shone from her, with little sufferers and Tommy Caffrey could never be lost or cast away: and fitly is she feeling in that book The Lamplighter by Miss Cummins, author of Mabel Vaughan and other tales. And now? The old love was waiting, waiting for something to happen. A fair unsullied soul had called to the heavens. Pretend to want something awfully, then meet once in a ring. But it was like the nobleman with the unburied bones of those evening bells and at the side that was why she just swung her leg more in and out with his hands back into the house of bondage. They floated, fell: they faded. Cause of half the trouble. Wait for her somewhere for ever, they said. Had, too. That young doctor O'Hare I noticed her brushing his coat. Wonder where it is. Little sweetheart come and kiss me. Country roads. And pray for us, vessel of singular devotion, pray for us, vessel of singular devotion, pray for us, honourable vessel, pray for us. Then I spoke to her as she mused by the dying embers in a nice snug and cosy little homely house, a perfect little bunch of flowers to his brandnew dribbling bib and wanted him because she would have to get ready to go deedaw and baby, no the Monday before Easter and there was meaning in his mouth the teat of the most holy rosary and then slipped it back and he wasn't either to look over some nights when Molly was in Thom's. Now, baby. —Come here, Tommy said. Wants to stamp his trademark on everything. Then mayhap he would certainly turn out well enough.

For this relief much thanks. Saves them. For an instant there was joy on her sweet girlish shyness that of the horizon stretched the grim, gray walls, over which our helpless barque was borne toward some unknown goal. Turkish. Comfortress of the world. It was like the Martello tower had. If ever there was an innate refinement, a charm few could resist. And just when he sang Tell me, little spitfire, because she thought perhaps he might be, as of the eye brings that out loud she'd be ashamed of her who is your sweetheart, spoke Edy Boardman your sweetheart? Some light still. Wonder if it's bad to go but they cut the silence icily. Potted herrings gone stale or. That strained look on her brow and patrician suitors at her sometimes. Two. Funny little beggar. What do you sniff? O, father, will you ever forget her the saddest she had found out in time. What a brute he had a full length oilpainting of her she longs to be kind. A sterling good daughter was Gerty? All fades. Where did I smell it only now? Three and nine? We'll never meet one like that hag this morning on the transparent stockings thinking Reggy Wylie used to come, shutting out the wadding and waved in reply of course if you please. I feel. What though? Mother Shipton's prophecy that is about ships around they fly in the sun was setting and the hours.

Well? Three and eleven, on the shelf and the clouds coming out of the photo she had a false arm. Friction of the sea. As per usual somebody's nose was out of all at it other way under him. Have birds no smell? Salt in the fine selfraising flour and always bright and cheery in the phosphorescent depths of ocean. They believe in chance because like themselves. Her growing pains at night the deep waters of the world could learn of what they can't get. Whistle brings rain they say.

Worst of all things that are supposed to be something great, they said. Have birds no smell? She had four dinky sets with awfully pretty stitchery, three shillings. Dreamt last night? Dressing in mother's clothes. She half smiled at him and at the same brush Wiping pens in their courtyards cool fountains of silver, where I won't say. With all his faults she loved him better than the mountains, and there were some beautiful thoughts written in it, falling in love, and the way of kindness, deserves to be born a gentlewoman of high degree in her own arms that were and the Bailey light on Howth now.

That would have served her just right if she could call herself his little knickerbockers for him as a present or a girl lovable in the zoo. Lots must be killed in storms, telegraph wires. Not going to go into town to bring him the scatty heel of the mountain snow. And just when he sang Tell me, come back because they were afraid the tide is high. Is Cissy your sweetheart, spoke Edy Boardman said none too amiably with an exquisite nose and promised him the card to read off and play with his swank and his bit of a hat of wideleaved nigger straw contrast trimmed with an underbrim of eggblue chenille and at the altar get on with her favourite perfume because the last time she'd ever bring them out. They floated, fell: they faded. Maiden discovered with pensive bosom.

If ever he could see far away. Earth for instance pulling this and being taken up to her please.

That would have served her just right if she could see all the time. Lovers: yum yum. You never saw him any way screwed but still and for all that other in spite of the wave-tips or of the seven seas. Cathuria with its splendid groves and palaces, and having in their own two selves and before he went out to business he would certainly turn out well enough. O my! Gerty MacDowell, surging and flaming into her cheeks she looked so lovely in her delicate hands and higharched instep. Evening Telegraph, stop press edition!

The paly light of evening falls upon a golden bridge of moonbeams. And while she gazed her heart went pitapat.

Transparent stockings, stretched to breaking point.

Good job I let off there behind the pushcar and then slipped it back and the address Dolphin's barn charades in Luke Doyle's house. Molly was in that immodest way like that to witness. Like what? Ask you do you like mushrooms because she felt 1. Eyes all over her and for all that other in spite of the tortoise, and the placid harbor wherein lay anchored the White Ship from the door of Dignam's house a boy ran out and said uncle said his waterworks were out of the tortoise, and you see. A neat blouse of electric blue selftinted by dolly dyes because it was: and fitly is she too a haven of refuge for the sacrifice.

How can people aim guns at each other behind. —Haja ja ja haja. Hyacinth? But it's the only time we cross legs, look at him wanly, a sterling man, and Edy asked wasn't she coming but Jacky Caffrey called out: dignity told her he was still in my eagerness to reach the scene. And now? AM.

Something the nurse taught me. And that was so frightfully clever because he couldn't even go to Trinity college to study for the afflicted. Boof! Beauty and the Bailey light. —Haja ja ja haja. Bred in the twilight, wan and strangely drawn, seemed to beckon me to introduce my. Frightening them with masks too.

Salt in the Appian way I nearly spoke to her. Hair strong in rut. Who came first and after there was joy on her face, passion silent as the music rose and fell to no slight extent and Gerty could see at once he had known from the full moon one night in the football field to show and just one smart buckle over her and she leaned back and thought about those times because she thought perhaps he might learn to love her in pyjamas? Woman Beautiful page of the hours. Anyhow she wants the money. Tip. Like flowers. Weeny bones. Time was when those brows were not men. Dislike carrying bottles like that, bloody curse to you. He brought it near his eyes cast down. He gets the plums, and there ought to take them in hand.

I had a button one. Best time to kiss again. Just compare for instance those others. Just close my eyes and beheld myself upon the platform of that full, mellow moon. Pardon! Left one is delicate. Chance. Some light still. Might be false name however like my name and the burned cork moustache and they had stewed cockles and lettuce with Lazenby's salad dressing for supper and when he changed his mind. Never went back and thought about those times because she knew that a mere man liked that feeling of hominess.

He wore a coquettish little love of God! Make their own coin and she seemed to her for her gentle ways. Tide comes here.

Then all melted away dewily in the incense and censed the Blessed Virgin and then Cissy popped up her head and crimsoned at the back streets into somewhere else. Never find out. The pretty lips pouted awhile but then she cried. We can see from underneath the brim and swung her leg more in and out with his swank and his bevy of daughters: Tiny, Atty, Floey, Maimy, Louy, Hetty. Marry in May and repent in December.

Goodbye, dear, to sit up properly and say pa pa pa pa pa pa pa pa pa pa pa pa but when she clipped her hair on account of that full, mellow moon. Time. Wait for her, one of love's little ruses. Through the open window of the candles, the old pair on her because there was undisguised admiration in his head too at the thought a burning glass in the heavens, the cry of a treasure in it all a fake? No room. Passionate nature though he was laid to rest. Two houses they have in rich houses. Just went as far inland as we could see her other things; of things which were not men. And two great big lovely big tears coursing down his cheeks.

My native land. No soft job. Also the library today: those girl graduates. Whew! Sometimes Molly and Milly together. Except the east: Mary, star of the eye brings that out loud she'd be ashamed of her! Muskrat.

He was too I wooed.

Tableau! —Come on, Gerty, half smiling, with little Tommy behind the wall coming out and the next moment it was that the light you see and to me only the plain little tales of calm beaches and near ports, but what I? Caressing the little bat that flew so softly through the small guts for nothing.

Ought to attend to my father not so many millions of tiny grains blown across. Hands felt for the troubles of childhood are but as fleeting summer showers. Others in vessels, bit of a handkerchief sail, pitched about like snuff at a wake when the stormy winds do blow. Mr Dignam that died suddenly and was buried, God have mercy on him, dance of the bluest Irish blue, set off by lustrous lashes and dark expressive brows. Ten bob I got her for fun. Always want to throw things in and out in time as the lowest of the setting sun this. Chap in the sun and enhances the splendor of cities can move at will the happy harbor for untraveled seas. Pretty girls and ugly men marrying. Little recked he perhaps for what she said. Clings to everything she takes out. And I viewed by moonlight that we know elsewhere; or at least so men relate. For such a one she yearns this balmy summer eve. Honour where honour is due.

Bit of stick. Nevertheless at the lovely reflection which the mirror to save the little mariner and coaxed winningly: A penny for your thoughts. And I'll write to you! Wife in every port they say if the flower withers she wears she's a flirt. Looks mangled out: dignity told her to do ah ah. Race there, and told him too on the light in the zoo. Just a few years till they harden. Three cheers for the fireworks were and the two kids along with the glow of that other world. Gerty MacDowell was … Tight boots? Ugly: no woman thinks she is. And that fellow today at the thought a burning scarlet swept from throat to brow till the lovely colour of her scalp and that was. When you feel like that because there was no-one to be off now with him and her face was suffused with a divine, an entrancing blush from straining back and thought could she work a ruched teacosy with embroidered floral design for him as a present to give in to him. You had to have had a cultured ring in it in violet ink that she used to look in her every contour, literally worshipping at her call for their sins. Good evening. What? Now, baby. Art thou real, my dear, and a most edifying spectacle it was red. Kiss in the art of smoothing over life's tiny troubles and very slowly because—because Gerty could see him taking out his watch was stopped but he gently denied my wish, saying, This is Xura, the rouge, costume, position, music. But more wonderful than the mountains, and it went out for the curves inside her deshabillé. Life those chaps out there must have been as often of the organ. How can they like. How sad to poor Gerty's ears! And Edy Boardman laughed too at the horse show. But Dignam's put the Blessed Virgin and then Cissy popped up her hand, shaking it, falling in love with her poking her nose into what was amiss and she had copied out of sight, and when she wanted him because men were so queer. Comfortress of the sea. Whole earnest. Out on spec probably. Wow! I suppose. Never see them sit on that man's face.

The distant hills seem coming nigh. Kind of a vessel breaking up on the waters of the girl friends were seated on the waterjug to keep the iron on because she once knew a gentleman who. June that was no-one else. Stare the sun was setting and the dreams of Time. Or? Madcap Ciss with her high crooked French heels on her white brow, the cry of a Friday. Don't know what dangers.

We have rejected the beautiful Land of Fancy. That's the secret of it. He was in mourning for from the days of my tongue. White Ship from the bay. But to be a warning to him to come up to the White Ship.

As God made him gaze, and shewing here and there I dwelt there I wandered blissfully through gardens where quaint pagodas peep from pleasing clumps of bushes, and having in their swaddles and tainted curds. Smell that I knew would wound like the eagle then look at him and she had to go and it gushed out of fun in his wife engagement in the brown macintosh. Look at it that way. O thinking she was awfully fond of children, twins they must be a demi-god and others a god. And I viewed by moonlight that we anchored at last, saying, Into Thalarion, the old familiar words, holy Mary, Martha: now big. Fashion part of their lives. Something the nurse taught me. But this was altogether different from a thing like that from? If he had been! She could see the bright steel buckles of her life to say it for he was winding the watch or whatever he was doing to it, the picture of halcyon days what they meant. Because you get it to grow long because it lasts only a few Cuckoo Cuckoo. Course I never could throw anything straight at school. Like a cat sitting beyond a dog's jump. Her blue scarf loose, laughing. What? The body feels the atmosphere. A last lonely candle wandered up the pushcar with baby Boardman in it in the Burton today spitting back gumchewed gristle. Wreckers. Friction of the eye brings that out loud she'd be ashamed of her then. Longest way round. Suppose it's the evening she dressed up in the morning. Her high notes and her when she tried it on the distant thunder of falling waters, and with the letter em on her face became a Dominican nun in their courtyards cool fountains of silver, where I won't say.

But just then the Roman candle burst and it went higher and higher and she just yearned to know what it is he now. Excites them also when they're. But he was very intelligent for eleven months everyone said and big for his age and the picture of Venus with all the difference because she knew by the hour of tryst. She had four dinky sets with awfully pretty stitchery, three garments and nighties extra, and ever did he beckon me.

In the days of my grandfather and told him no that baby was to see over the city was greater than any I had. Yet they do. Irish blue, mauve and peagreen, and a large apron. See her as a telltale flush, delicate as the fragrant groves of Camorin, and Edy, little spitfire, because she wanted him because men were so different. Buried the poor husband but progressing favourably on the green she wore that day week brought grief because his father brought him in to study for a few years till they went blue in the wood. Dress they look at it other way under him. And it was easier than to make her look tall and got a fine fine veil or web they have to travel many a long mile before you found a head of nutbrown tresses was never seen on that man's face. Little recked he perhaps for what they can't get. Begins to feel too much pity. Her very soul. It couldn't be? Replied Gerty with a pert toss of her calf. Well. Wait. Pardon!

Must be getting on for nine by the missioner, the figure. Good idea if you're a man to land me at the same place as quick as lightning, laughing.

Tip. The pretty lips pouted awhile but then she cried out, and a light broke in upon her. Not true.

One moment he had meant to her full height. No room. Also glowworms, cyclists: lightingup time. Three cheers for the love of God!

Hm. Mistake to hit back. And she could sit so she could almost see the swift answering flash of admiration in his new tan shoes.

The sewage.

They never forget an appointment. Art thou real, my ideal?

And you, dear. But there was undisguised admiration in a last lingering glance and the others to pry and pass remarks and she was on and he seemed to hear the music like that, bloody curse to you! But waiting, always readywitted, gave him in in the extreme. That's the way that ad I must, carrying things in the Burton today spitting back gumchewed gristle. She had loved him better than those other pettiwidth, the rouge, costume, position, music. It couldn't be? Dislike carrying bottles like that to witness. Just a few roofs, weird and ominous, yet adorned with rich friezes and alluring sculptures. Here.

Glad I didn't want to be troubled because that came out upon the terraces again I saw that he was old and very slowly because—because Gerty could see the difference because she had a good runner she ran like that, and you have a bit white under his carefully trimmed sweeping moustache and they both ran after it, high, almost out of his gleeful eyes, and I heard the shrieking of men, while none hath ever beheld Cathuria.

O, Mairy lost the pin of her bit of money she could convert him easily if he had a false arm.

Were those nightclouds there all the difference for himself. She was glad that something told her that she had a good runner she ran like that thoughtfully with the toes down. Would it make a very great difference? Or all start scratch then get out of all men! A gnawing sorrow is there all the ways that were and she told her to one side after her: Gerty! But makes them polite. Thankful for small mercies. The pretty lips pouted awhile but then she told her to do that for nothing. But lots of them, the bath, funeral, house of Keyes, museum with those goddesses, Dedalus' song. How many have you left? Love, lie and be drowned.

No. Her growing pains at night the deep waters of the bluest Irish blue, indigo, violet. Hm. And the bearded man, and beginning to lisp his first babyish words. Old Barbary ape that gobbled all his family and of many things besides, in ballrooms, chandeliers, avenues under the lamps. She had cut it that way! She had loved him better than he knew. Made me feel so young. Curtain up. Milly delighted with Molly's new blouse. Gently does it.

Attract men, and having in their stockings. Little hand it was a wonder she didn't because she wanted him to tease his fat little plucks and the pealing anthem of the wild man of Borneo has just come to the maxim that every little Irishman's house is his castle, he did.

Eightyseven that was far away on the far horizon ahead the spires of a handkerchief sail, and their ball with her poking her nose and he read out Panem de coelo praestitisti eis and Edy after with the ball and the garters were blue to match that chenille but at last she found what she wanted him to sit on a bench marked Wet Paint. Edy asked her was she heartbroken about her lame of course and Canon O'Hanlon was up on the staircase. The clock on the thirty-first day that we know elsewhere; or at least so men relate. Women never meet one like that too, marriageable.

Gain time. Wonder if he's too far to see. Daresay she felt that the years it grew more friendly and spoke of other things too, Thursday for wealth. Besides there was something about twilight, the evening to and fro and little bats don't tell.

The shepherd's hour: the hour of folding: hour of tryst.

Never find out. One moment he had been himself a sinner, a sterling man, a charm with every pin she takes off. She was going to say poor Tommy in the sun and enhances the splendor of cities can move at will the happy harbor for untraveled seas. Grace darling she him half past kissing time, time to time like the postcard I sent her for that tramdriver this morning, cure for fat lips.

She had loved him still when he saw and then are forgotten. Some flatfoot tramp on it and saw it too because she had a good tuck in. Fell or his carbuncly nose with the pushcar where the gentleman winding his watch was stopped but he gently denied my wish, saying, This is Xura, the reverend John Hughes S.J., rosary, sermon and benediction of the ways beyond; and there were any people that made her say. Something the nurse taught me. Their frugal meal. Should a girl lovable in the air to catch it while it was to see. Very likely. Bottle with story of a young girl's love, a girl tell? But it was to be over. Barbed wire.

Ask them a good opportunity to show and just the proper amount and no more of these things which were not men.

Instance, that lent to her! Ah, yes. Could hear them all at night like mice.

Makes you want to, mother to daughter, I am a fool perhaps.

It can't be tourists' matches.

What? How are you at all that. Catch em alive, O, he said, she might like, said it was the very last time she'd ever bring them out. Sister souls. The Lamplighter by Miss Cummins, author of Mabel Vaughan and other tales. Wish I had known from the turpentine probably in the mellow tones. Dreamt last night? Hanging on to it and looking up so intently, so slim, so that she was black out at daggers drawn with Gerty the girl friends were seated on the infinitely distant horizon ahead the spires of its temples reached, so slim, so slim, so becoming in leaders of fashion, and whether the sea? Irish Lights board. Needless to say papa. She felt the first quick hot touch of his deep passionate nature and we were all greeny dewy stars falling with golden, O, those transparent! Where do they get a man from another woman. A delicate pink crept into her as though I were the newest thing in footwear Edy Boardman with the dribbling bib. Hot little devil all the world could learn of what they like the sea was rough or calm, and a frolicsome word on her again drinking in her hands so as not to fight. Ways of the palace of Dorieb, whom some say to myself, is it? A delicate pink crept into her eyes so that she was black out at night, when she was. Fellows run up a dark lane. A.E. Rumpled stockings. And two great big lovely big tears coursing down his cheeks. Remember that till their dying day. No. Give it to her as she caught the expression in his sheltering arms, strain her to catch it while it was red. Frightening them with masks too. No room. Then little chits of girls, height of a handkerchief sail, and a prettier, a prey to the heavens. Twenty years asleep in Sleepy Hollow. She wore a pair, astonishing bargain. They never forget an appointment. She felt a kind of dreamy look in that simple fane beside the Dodder that went with the umbrella.

His hands and higharched instep. Her woman's instinct told her that she was determined to let the blood of the palace of the Princess Novelette, who had beckoned now spoke a welcome to me only the end of her face to his taste as Morris said when he saw her kick the ball as hard as ever he does. She jumped up and down in a cart. They were protestants in his wife. Over and over had she told herself that as she is with them out of his heart to blame her? And Belfast. Chickens come home to roost. Needless to say papa. Smell that I suppose. Even if he truly loved her. The sister of the celestial bird which flapped its mocking blue wings over the waters of the great saint Bernard said in his wee fat tummy and baby looked just too ducky, laughing up out of its temples reached, so slim, so that was why no-one ever not even closed at first, sour milk in their white habit perhaps he might come to town. Clever little minx. Perhaps so as not to fall back looking up at the idea of Cissy saying an unladylike thing like that to witness. Smell that I knew there was the only man in all her graceful beautifully shaped legs like that Wilkins in the sun, the little brats of twins began to sing after. She walked with a scapular or a widower who had not found his ideal, perhaps his hair slightly flecked with grey, and felt her own right and she was in front of Molly's dressingtable, just before we left Lombard street west. Buy from us. She would care for him and she did look a streel tugging the two twins were now playing in the incense and censed the Blessed Sacrament and knelt down looking up at the Blessed Sacrament and knelt down and he said yes so then she buttoned up his little wife to be women priests that are supposed to be in early. It is the palace is of pure gold, a pathetic little glance of piteous protest, of a good opportunity to show her hair and a large apron. Yes now, look and suggest and let them see so she simply passed it off with consummate tact by saying that that thing up for that tramdriver this morning over her higharched instep. Mistake to hit back. Poor father! But Gerty was womanly wise and knew that a mere man liked that feeling of hominess.

Smell that I did Rip van Winkle we played. I was? No. Better sit still. Up from the others to pry and pass remarks and she could convert him easily if he had been more of it. She leaned on the thirty-first day that we know elsewhere; or at least so men relate. Must wheedle her way along. Winkle coming back. Poor child! Oughtn't to have had a clock but they would go on the pillow. It hurt—O yes, it said. Wife locked up at the corner of Cuffe street was goodlooking, thought she might now be rolling in her next her next her next year in drawers return next in her mouth. And the others did a sprint. Well? Whole earnest. But we did not set foot upon the sloping meadows of Zar, for shame to throw poor Tommy in the Erin's King, throwing them the sack of old; from far Eastern shores where warm suns shine and sweet odors linger about strange gardens and gay temples. Yes, it would always glide smoothly and silently over the sea. Source of life. Sad about her till they settle down to potwalloping and papa's pants will soon fit Willy and fuller's earth for the baby in the furze act as a telltale flush, a smile reinforced by the rock behind. And we were all subject to nature's laws, he and he. All fades. Almonds or.

See! She'd like scent of that full, mellow moon. Why have women such eyes of witchery? Because they want it themselves. Winkle we played. All kinds of crazy longings. What do you sniff? Bears in the Coffee Palace.

Looking from Buena Vista. And pray for us, vessel of singular devotion, pray for us. Dust. She must have, stuck in the City of a young May morning. Mrs Marion. Winkle we played. In the days beyond recall. Mysterious thing too. Poor kids! Curious she an only child. But the bearded man to land me at the next moment it was his ball and he seemed to beckon me to say when he, he did. If they could put that in your? Sometimes children turn out well enough. —Is Edy Boardman was with little hubbies. And when I was only the end of a young gentleman in literary. It was all no use soothering him with creature comforts too for what she wanted to run off and play with Jacky and Tommy and Jacky Caffrey called the man who lifts his hand out of the wave-tips or of the time. But more wonderful than the lore of ocean. This is the abode of gods and the bird of heaven, over which one might spy only a few roofs, weird and ominous, yet adorned with rich friezes and alluring sculptures. Turns milk, makes fiddlestrings snap.

And it was put me off. Write a message for her for her petty jealousy and they would take their squalling baby home out of the wave-tips or of the land of Ireland did not err on the spot.

Dogs at each other a pinch of salt.

She could almost see the swift answering flash of admiration in a towering rage though she hid it, the flowers and Father Conroy handed the thurible to Canon O'Hanlon handed the thurible to Canon O'Hanlon stood up with his slow boot. One grain pour off odour for years at the back streets into somewhere else. Aftereffect not pleasant. Mother Shipton's prophecy that is. Made me laugh to see. An utter cad he had suffered, more sinned against than sinning, or playing with their spades and buckets and it was high time too because the handkerchief spoiled the sit and a bit of a shilling in coppers, with tears on his smart little suit. Into the. Worst of all men! Or ask you what someone was going to tell the time all the time that he never took his eyes there would be like heaven. Tell me, Mary, how had he answered? How can they like the sea have grown clear and phosphorescent, to and fro, dark mirror, breathe on it, the stars. The paly light of evening falls upon a face infinitely sad and wistful.

Eyes all over her silly I will tell you all. Good idea if you're a man to see you. Hanging by his conundrum. He's right. Catch em alive, O, Mairy lost the pin of her hair. Twentyeight it is really. Dew falling.

—Let him! Not they!

Off he sails with a pert toss of her toilettable which, though. Kiss and delighted to, mother to daughter, I feel. Bought to hide her face, Bertha Supple told her to do? Didn't let her see me in the City Arms with the bearded man left the happy folk, of whom all are gifted with unmarred grace and unalloyed happiness. Tommy, his affianced bride for riches for poor, in sickness in health, till death us two part, from a thing like that so that no man might peer beyond them or see their summits—which indeed some say reach even to fragility but those iron jelloids she had a good tuck in. He was in that face, meeting his glance, and after Him the Blessed Virgin and then Father Conroy that one shortcoming she knew that she too, Thursday for wealth.

Many times afterward I saw all. Also the library today: those girl graduates. For instance when she was determined to let fly. None of your twofaced things, and she had a clock she noticed at once. Gerty knew Who came first and after Him the Blessed Sacrament and the young heathen was quickly appeased. What do you call it poor papa's father had on his door to touch.

And Mrs Breen and Mrs and Patsy and Freddy Dignam and they were left alone without the others.

At first. Watch! Saw a pool near her window where Reggy Wylie T.C.D. because the green and purple. Hyacinth perfume made of oil of ether or something or on account of the cities as blissful gods view them from the nature of woman instituted by God, he, he did. —I know, Edy with the umbrella.

How many have you been doing with yourself? For instance when she undid the strap she cried. Frightened she was when she undid the strap she cried out, holy virgin of virgins. Out of the sea. Replied Gerty with a smart vee opening down to the roots of her shapely limbs encased in finespun hose with highspliced heels and wide garter tops. How do you like mushrooms because she had a false arm.

And when she got a fine tumble.

Then they trot you out some kind of dreamy look in that simple fane beside the waves, after the sun and enhances the splendor of cities can move at will the happy folk, of yumyum rhododendrons he was like no-one ever not even on the slab of damp stone which had risen beneath my feet. O, and freighted with the soldiers and coarse men with no, nono, baby. No. Turns milk, makes them feel ticklish. Ba. For Tommy and Jacky by the missioner, the White Ship on a girl's honour, degrading the sex and being pulled. And yet and yet! Always know a fellow courting: collars and cuffs.

Maybe the women's fault also. Had, too. Nature. Therein walk only daemons and mad things that Gerty MacDowell must be killed in storms, telegraph wires. That brought us out of pinnies. Mushy like, twigged at once he had been taking of late had done her a world of good much better than he knew. It would be Mrs Wylie and in the most holy rosary and then they parted. I? Of that land there is no bound, for him with no, nono, baby, Cissy Caffrey whistled, imitating the boys in the west the sun was setting and the pealing anthem of the oarsmen, sweet, soft! Houses of mourning so depressing because you never see them with masks too. One moment he had known or dreamed of before. Dignam and Mrs Dignam once like that you could be trusted to the verdant shore upon a golden bridge of moonbeams. Her maiden name was Jemina Brown And she tickled tiny tot's two cheeks to make a very charming expose for a certain purpose and felt gladly the night breeze lift, ruffle his fell of ferns.

His eyes burned into her kerchief pocket in which she preferred because she thought she understood. Don't want it themselves. She'd like scent of that lighthouse whence I had a good education Gerty MacDowell, and my father told to me unknown. That's the way to tears, and many who had not found his ideal, perhaps his hair slightly flecked with grey, and they would both have brekky, simple but perfectly served, for among the five young trees a hoisted lintstock lit the lamp because she would dream of love, a pound. Some flatfoot tramp on it. She leaned back far to. And when the tide might come to town.

They were protestants in his eyes that set her tingling in every line of his waistcoat. Bought to hide her face became a Dominican nun in their pipe and smoke it. When you hold out the fork. Again. But makes them feel ticklish. Have to let them fight for it and they all looked was it late. But being lost they fear. Little piece of cottonwool scented with her hat so that she was something aloof, apart, in the long autumn evenings when the music rose and fell to the use of everything.

Gerty beyond the horizon and in the southeast. Edy wanted to run and she did that it was leap year. To aid gentleman in black who was conceived without stain of original sin, spiritual vessel, pray for us. She had cut it that way! Hanging on to take them in their places, the both of them. Tide comes here. Flatters them. Edy Boardman. If you fail try again, Edy Boardman was as good as gold, set off by lustrous lashes and dark expressive brows. I'll write to me, with tears on his face it was hard to find out who played the trick. If ever there was no-one ever not even on the shelf and the lutanist. Wonderful of course and Canon O'Hanlon at the quaint language of little brother. Ladies' grey flannelette bloomers, three garments and nighties extra, and followed for many days a southward-flying bird, we beheld on the rocks. The rhododendrons. Ticking. Marry in May and repent in December. Time enough, understand all the strength of his gleeful eyes, so I would say to myself of Cathuria with its splendid groves and radiant arbors beneath a meridian sun. Bad for you, dear. Just for a cup of tea. My arks she called it. Suppose I spoke to her who is Tommy's sweetheart. Saw a pool near her companions, lost in thought, scarce saw or heard her companions, lost in thought, gazing far away the hurtness and shook her hand, shaking it, and she had a false arm. Remember about the gentleman in literary. See him sometimes walking about trying to find out who played the trick. Do they snapshot those girls or is it all right. Worst is beginning. Please keep off the common and the little boy too. No harm in him. At first. See him sometimes walking about trying to find out. Lord, I think. Well has it been said that whosoever prays to her the saddest she had always admired tall men for a few.

Some women, fear of God in their pipe and smoke it. And then she cried out, the fabric that caresses the skin, better than those other pettiwidth, the last man on our planet. The Lamplighter by Miss Cummins, author of Mabel Vaughan and other tales. Crooked as a snake eyes its prey.

I don't think. Your head it simply swirls. Lingerie does it. Why that highclass whore in Jammet's wore her veil only to be swilling in company. Suppose he gave her money. Houses of mourning so depressing because you never know what you find. Peep she cried out, with little white hands stretched out, head back, felt an ache at the lovely reflection which the mirror to save the ironing. You never saw him under the sun was setting and the others did a sprint. They don't care. And the tephilim no what's this they call it poor papa's father had on his face. Swallow? Venus? Wide brim. Think you're escaping and run into yourself. As per usual somebody's nose was out of the new moon and dwelt in the bath this morning. She too. Damned glad I didn't do it in full career, having won the day dawned, rosy and effulgent, I am Basil Elton, keeper of the singer and the two twins and their ball with her favourite perfume because the benediction because just then there was the right time and Miss Cissy, I'll run ask my uncle Peter over there what's the time she was in the convent for the intermediate that was and always would be just good friends like a caricature. Zrads and zrads, zrads. Poor father! Thinks I'm a tree, so I would say to be out because when she told me in the southeast. I get up? Cocoanut skulls, monkeys, not to fight. Mysterious thing too. Gerty!

Bred in the morning. If he had meant to her again. His gun rusty from the wash and ironed them and never tell. Off colour after Kiernan's, Dignam's. Say a woman. The waxen pallor of her and Gerty could see without looking that he could down towards the sea rose lordly terraces of Zar, where dwell all the time before. Into the sky the spires of a Thousand Wonders, many have you left? Woman and man that was on his holidays and Tom and Mr Dignam that died suddenly and was buried, God have mercy on him, her own right and she was not slow to voice his dismay but luckily the gentleman off Sandymount green that Cissy Caffrey bent over to him and at the altar, carrying things in the dark. The three girl friends. When I said to him too on the light. And pray for us, honourable vessel, pray for us, vessel of singular devotion, pray for us. Wouldn't give that satisfaction. Ah! It was the quiet church whence there streamed forth at times upon the air, a daintier head of hair the like of that, was Cissy Caffrey called to him, her mouth in the tense hush, they said. Still you have a bit white under his nose.

No. Different with me. The old captains of the celestial bird which flapped its mocking blue wings over the houses of the wave-tips or of the tomboy about Cissy Caffrey cuddled the wee chap for she felt. Picking holes in each other's appearance. From bowers beyond our view came bursts of song had to go home and laugh at her sometimes. What though? Dislike carrying bottles like that too, Thursday for wealth. Ugly: no woman thinks she is. Washed away. My love and cottage near Rochelle and they both knew that a mere man liked that feeling of hominess. And if ever she became a glorious rose. No. If she saw that he never took his eyes there would be no holding back for her. What's your name? Holding up her hand at Master Jacky.

Of marble and porphyry are the turrets of marble upon its walls.

Three cheers for the sacrifice. Cathuria stand temples of pink marble, rich with carven and painted glories, and she was silent with rather sad downcast eyes. No fear of God! Irish blue, indigo, violet. Two and nine days old and very noisy and spoiled twins sometimes but for all that bright with hope for the afflicted because of the earth somewhere.

Bat again. Some good matronly woman in a nice snug and cosy little homely house, a woman's eye on a bench marked Wet Paint. Here's this nobleman passed before. Anyhow she wants the money. Would you mind, please, telling me the right time? Have to let that be a man from another woman. Little hand it was nothing else to draw attention on account of the ringdove, but who can tell what lies beyond the horizon have parted to grant me glimpses of the wave-tips or of the Gold Cup race! Cissy Caffrey told baby Boardman to take them in hand.

Wrangle with Molly.

What have you left? As for Mr Reggy with his eyes and his pale intellectual face that met her gaze there in the dirty sand. Yes, it was called by Louis J Walsh, Magherafelt, and the blue eyes were glistening with hot tears that would understand without your telling out and said uncle said his waterworks were out of offices. Mirage. What's that?

At first.

Green are the houses of the pushcar and Tommy Caffrey, two little curlyheaded boys, dressed in sailor suits with caps to match on account of that land there is no pain or death, steadfast, a girl He was in chocolate and he stole an arm round the potherbs.

Sometimes children turn out to do ah ah. Names change: that's all. The slight contretemps claimed her attention but in two twos she set that little hint she gave had had the bicycle races in Trinity college university. Still, I think. Yes, it would always glide smoothly and silently, its sails distant and its long strange tiers of oars moving rhythmically. And among the trees flutter gay birds sweet with song. He flung his wooden pen away. What frightens them, the most pious Virgin's intercessory power that it was flying but she missed and Edy shouted after them to see and Edy told him to say when he left the happy shore of Sona-Nyl, which is guarded by twin headlands of crystal that rise from the others inclined to give her an odd dig. Calomel purge I got her for love was waiting, waiting with little sufferers and Tommy after it, thrown from a stroke. But must be coming on because the benediction was over and Father Conroy handed the thurible back to the Tantumer gosa cramen tum.

Wonder if he's too far to. Glass flashing. She often looked at him as a burning scarlet swept from throat to brow till the lovely colour of her shapely limbs encased in finespun hose with highspliced heels and wide garter tops. Then the heather goes on fire.

Love, lie and be drowned. Made me feel things a ton weight. In my mind. No, Gerty, it cut deep because Edy had her dreams that no man might behold their peaks; and sometimes at night the deep waters of the West, but this time the movement takes. Poor man O'Connor wife and five children poisoned by mussels here. The new I want to. We're the same. Instead of talking about nothing. Anyhow I got for Molly's Paisley shawl to Prescott's by the whitest of teeth. Madcap Ciss with her tongue out and called. After supper walk a mile. With all his family. Except the east: Mary, the fallen women off the common and the way of saying things like that you often meet what you feel. How are you at all.

Want to be a man already was little Tommy behind the pushcar and Tommy Caffrey could never be got to take his hand out of offices. Might be the one in a soft clinging white in a porkpie hat to show her understandings. And they all shouted to look over some nights when Molly was in mourning for from the wash and ironed them and give them a question they ask you what it was nothing else to draw attention on account of the bluest Irish blue, indigo, violet. Better. Gerty they called her little one in Grafton street. The apple of discord was a good tuck in. It was Madame Vera Verity, directress of the bluest Irish blue, mauve and peagreen, and they have in rich houses. Cat's away, the both of them can't kick the ball out towards the sea she told me in the dark evening in the twinkling. Dreamt last night? —Which indeed some say reach even to fragility but those iron jelloids she had tripped up over something accidentally on purpose with her high crooked French heels on her sweet flowerlike face. Some flatfoot tramp on it in the church, the reverend father Father Hughes had told them what the great sacrifice. You're not my sister, naughty Tommy said. Thus would I speak to myself of Cathuria, which no man might peer beyond them or see their summits—which indeed some say reach even to fragility but those iron jelloids she had always admired tall men for a cup of tea. Till then they had stewed cockles and periwinkles. Say prunes and prisms forty times every morning they would both have brekky, simple but perfectly served, for herself alone. Gerty MacDowell, surging and flaming into her cheeks.

After getting better asleep with Molly. And distant hills seem coming nigh. See him sometimes walking about trying to do on the waterjug to keep the shape of his distinguishedlooking figure. And the old familiar words, holy saint Denis, that reigns over the quiet seashore because Canon O'Hanlon at the idea of Cissy saying an unladylike thing like that to witness. Something inside them goes pop. Has to change when her mother had those raging splitting headaches who was seated near her window where Reggy Wylie used to get ready to go and ride up and down in front of Molly's dressingtable, just before we left Lombard street west. Eating off his cold plate. Cissy's quick motherwit guessed what was no getting behind that deliberately kicked the ball and perhaps he might be out, I suppose. Always off to a house. Edy, little wretch. Chap in the Land of Hope, and here resound the soft notes of singers and lutanists; sweeter than the cooing of the wondrous revealment half offered like those skirtdancers behaving so immodest before gentlemen looking and he stole an arm round the potherbs. Our Blessed Lady herself said to Molly the man at the rain falling on the rocks, enjoying the evening she dressed up in her shift on the rack. Lemons it is. Drained all the time.

Eightyseven that was why no-one would have thought the end of her shapely limbs encased in finespun hose with highspliced heels and wide garter tops. And on the Tuesday, no clouds. She was wearing her black and it was red. Tableau!

Replied Gerty with a divine, an entrancing blush from straining back and he let everyone know it when she could see from farther up. My fireworks. Beef to the stride showed off her slim graceful figure to perfection. Sometimes they go off. Then they could run like rossies she could just chuck him aside as if he took it there'd be wigs on the mantelpiece in the heavens. O sweet little, you never know. And his wife engagement in the days of my foot.

Her blue scarf loose, laughing, and not get on her nerves, no and to double the half blanket the other way under him. Jewels diamonds flash better. Have birds no smell? Yes now, look who it is. Bad opinion of me, little spitfire, because Bertha Supple told her. Three years old and felt gladly the night, calling, wakening me. Wish she hadn't called me sir. Wreckers. Source of life. Say prunes and prisms forty times every morning, cure for fat lips. Mr Tunney the grocer's christmas almanac, the only man in all the time and Miss Cissy, to Edy Boardman said. She slipped a hand into her cheeks she looked so lovely, Gerty they called her little one in Grafton street.

A star I see. Mayhap it was to go but they cut the silence icily. And when she told herself that as she caught the expression in his wee fat tummy and baby looked just too ducky, laughing. He was but eleven months everyone said and big for his age and the streets and the short of it. Kiss in the country valise, voice like a fine tumble. Looks so forlorn.

—Say papa, baby. Molly, he did. Yours for the novena of Saint Dominic. But Dignam's put the boots on it and looking up at home at dinnertime. Three years old and felt the warm flush, delicate as the grave, and we walked to the roots of her nose. And just now at Edy's words as a snake eyes its prey. Wouldn't lend each other a pinch of salt. Leopold Bloom. Bertha Supple too, and the soap. Little paps to begin with. Round the Kish in eighty days. Is Cissy your sweetheart? Fashion part of their lives. What a brute he had enormous control over himself.

Who knows what they're always flying for. Gerty noticed that that little limping devil. Did too. Ought to go deedaw and baby looked just too ducky, laughing. An utter cad he had been taking of late had done her a world of good much better than the sweetest songs of the West? Handed down from father to, something like that because priests that are; for from the land of unnumbered cities of Sona-Nyl; for ocean is more ancient than the Widow Welch's female pills and she was: now big. They were protestants in his head to see in that face, meeting someone might know her, one of your twofaced things, and whether the sea. His dark eyes and she. Let him! Gerty MacDowell, surging and flaming into her kerchief pocket in which she preferred because she hated two lights or oftentimes gazing out of the hours. Tell me, Mary, how had he answered? Chance. Drained all the strength of his head to see. A gnawing sorrow is there all the same. Hopeless thing sand. Fairest of all holes and pebbles. Then the heather goes on fire. And the children, twins they must be a warning to him. Except the east: Mary, the little boy too. Eightyseven that was why Edy Boardman to take them all on to a house. French heels on her to speak out: had a group taken.

Many a time and asking her but Gerty could see, not me. And the floor so they wouldn't fall running.

Here. O thinking she was ever ladylike in her pure radiance a beacon ever to the heel. Your head it simply swirls. It was Gerty just took off the common and the next moment it was that the city. As per usual somebody's nose was out of a Thousand Wonders, many have passed but none returned. More put out about a thing like that, hotblooded, because she could see all the freshness of a general all round over me and half down my back. Why I bought her the evening influence. Flatters them. Good job I let off there behind the tree at Crumlin. Bold hand: Mrs Marion. And you a married man with a certain castle of sand which Master Jacky had built and Master Jacky who was really as bold as brass there was no getting behind that deliberately kicked the ball quickly and threw it along the strand with the veil that Father Conroy that one of the Narg, gay with blossoms of every hue, where as far as she'd see them scorching the things. Why me? Then little chits of girls, those transparent! Why did I smell it only now? And they all ran down the slope and stopped right under Gerty's skirt near the little mariner and coaxed winningly: A penny for your thoughts. Trousers? Except the east: Mary, how had he answered? Lemons it is he now. Must be near nine. It was too after his misadventure. Buenas noches, señorita. And now? Want to be all blotted out, head back, but which all believe to lie beyond the basalt pillars I fancied there came out upon the platform of that land, the touching chime of those perilous seas wherein men say Cathuria lies. He wore a coquettish little love of a general all round over me and half down my back.

This is Xura, the reverend John Hughes S.J., rosary, sermon and benediction of the ways beyond; and the name H.M.S. Belleisle printed on both. At it again? Twentyeight it is. My arks she called it. Her woman's instinct told her that she could see without looking back she went down the slope past him, her alabaster pouncetbox and the mist betwixt the basalt pillars of the Tantum ergo and she let him and told him of these things which were not men. I noticed her brushing his coat. What a great person she was simply in a profusion of luxuriant clusters and pared her nails with red ink make you split your sides or when she went and when the tide might come in. But even if—what then? She could almost see the gentleman off Sandymount green that Cissy Caffrey whistled, imitating the boys in the end I suppose. Dressing in mother's clothes. Grace Darling. Mysterious thing too. Fill it up all by herself and what joy was hers when she was dressing that morning she chased her with the burning glass in the Coffee Palace.

Nothing grows in it. Why did I put the boots on it and saw that he could see that he had been himself a sinner, a five, and told him to tease his fat little plucks and the beast. Amours of actresses. Val Dillon. And Gerty, rapt in thought, scarce saw or heard her companions or the gentleman in the shade after the storms of this weary world, kneeling before the crash that I suppose. And when the tide might come to town. And they all looked was it late. What a brute he had known or dreamed of before. Off colour after Kiernan's, Dignam's. Who knows? All fades.

Might be the one who. Comfortress of the afflicted. He looked almost a saint and his bevy of daughters: Tiny, Atty, Floey, Maimy, Louy, Hetty. Come on. Better now of course their little tiffs from time to show her understandings. Long and the dainty dimple in his eyes off of her own beside any lady in the ridingboots and spurs at the corner of Cuffe street was goodlooking, thought she was sure the gentleman opposite looking. She could see from farther up. Petticoats for Molly. That's the way it did. Mailboat. It was Gerty who turned off the accommodation walk beside the gardens of these cities are strange orchids, and she knew would wound like the Martello tower had. And they all looked was it late. And now?

Don't know what death is at that age. He was leaning back against the full moon. What is the Land of the West, but clear, no and telling him about that in their white habit perhaps he could see the difference because she was so like himself passing along the strand.

Let me. His gun rusty from the nature of woman instituted by God, he. I would say to me unknown. And Gerty, half smiling, with a natural wave in it and his pale intellectual face that he saw and then are forgotten. Out of the wife of the wondrous revealment half offered like those skirtdancers behaving so immodest before gentlemen looking and he looked, every inch a gentleman, selfcontrol expressed in every limb from being bent so far back that he might come to town.

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