13 June, 2011

Cousin of the Crown, Chapter Ten

Here is probably the second to last chapter! Already!  Ten weeks already, holy cow.  Enjoy!

E.T.


Cousin of the Crown

Chapter Ten



By: Elisabeth Treble



I rubbed my temples, my head aching.  Lahdel lay quiet, her breaths less dragging as her illness eased.  The doctors had flatly refused to let me work anymore today, sending me home to rest.  How could I rest?

I could see the curve of Lahdel’s belly against the sheets.  As always, I flushed with anger, then shame.  But I was no different.  I had wanted Terran when he was married to another.  She was only weaker than I, something I already knew.  Gulin had wanted me; Lahdel was more beautiful and lonely besides.  He was weaker than his brother, never reared to be as disciplined at Terran.  I should have seen the signs long ago.

I went to the window, looking out at the stormy day.  Why had Lahdel not been promised to Gulin and me to Terran?  An accident of birth, Terran before Gulin and my mother after the queen.  Would I have fallen in love with him had I been his bride?

I tried not to think of Terran, but his face would not leave my mind.  He was dead.  He had to be dead.  It had been weeks, endless days of shiftless, dull gray waters.  The ships crisscrossing the vast inland sea, bringing nothing home, not even the worst news.

The king had to make a decision.  Gulin would marry Lahdel.  Only I knew the truth, everyone else would think the child was Terran’s.  Only I knew he had not betrayed me, that he had kept his word.

I sank to the window seat, my legs weak.  I was so tired.  Lahdel stirred, coughing.  I watched her shift before falling back into a light slumber.  She was healing, but slowly, too weak to fight it off without constant care.

I rested my head on the cold glass.  I couldn’t go on.  Not without him.  Soon, there would be no other choice but to declare him dead and give Gulin the right of heir.  Then I would go back home and live my days in endless, dull despair.

There was a commotion in the hall.

Cura went to shush them, Lahdel stirring again, her eyes opening slowly.  The door crashed open, banging back from the wall.

I had started up.  I clutched at the wall, sliding back down, my heart stopped dead in my chest.

“Terran!” Lahdel exclaimed, her voice raw and pained.

It was Terran.  Impossibly, miraculously Terran.  Terran bruised and dirty, framed by the doorway, towering.  He stared at Lahdel lying in the bed.  He turned to face me.

“Alea.”

I gasped, sobs choking me.  He stumbled across the room, going down on his knees before me.  His hands, cut and dirty, gripped my skirts, my knees, biting into my flesh as his head pressed into my lap.

“Alea.” He said again, desperate.

“I am here, Terran,” I said, not seeing the crowd that bunched at the doorway, Lahdel’s white face, Gulin’s red one.  I put a trembling hand on his hair, doubting it was really him until the instant I touched him.  “It’s me, darling.”

His grip tightened even more.  He looked up, his eyes wide and haunted.  “Tell me you love me.”

“I love you.” I said at once.  The room was deathly still.

He jerked to his feet, pulling me up with him.

“I love you,” he said, low and intense, his hands tight on my shoulders.  “I will have you.  You are mine!”

“Yes,” I said.  I could deny him nothing, not now.  He crushed me close, his lips hard and demanding.  He broke away, leaving me staggering.  He turned to his wife.

“Lahdel,” he began in an even voice.  “Lahdel, I’m sorry.  I tried to protect you…”  He stopped, his hand that was still on my arm clenching.  He had seen.  “What is this?” he hissed.

Lahdel was weeping, hysterical.  Terran lifted his eyes from the bedspread to the faces at the door.  I flinched as he said, “Gulin.”

“Yes, brother?” Guilin asked, defiant.  Cura had the sense to shove the door shut behind him, forcing the gawking servants and nobleman out.

Terran was breathing through his teeth, furious.  I gripped his hand, warning him.

Terran’s voice was deeper than I remembered as he raged at his brother.  Gulin shouted back, their voices deafening.

“You didn’t want her, Terran!” Gulin bellowed.  “You wanted her.” He stabbed a finger at me.  “Do not tell me you haven’t lain with her!  Do not lie to me, Terran!”

“How dare you betray me!” Terran snarled, shoving me back behind him.  “I will have your head for this!”

“No!” Lahdel cried, sitting up.  She started coughing, holding her chest, trying to breath.  I rushed to her as she cried out, her lips red with blood.

Terran recoiled, his mouth open.  “What?  Alea!”

I got Lahdel lying back down, soothing her as she whimpered.  Gulin stepped close and gripped her hand, whispering to her.  I turned to Terran.

“There is a sickness.  A plague.”

Terran stared at me.  “When?  How?”

“After you left, before we heard word of your shipwreck.”  I had to stop and collect myself, the memory of those moments still too much to handle.  “It is killing every day, even still.”

Terran blinked, absorbing the information.  “Father?  Mother?”

“They were sick and recovered, as was I.”  I wiped Lahdel’s forehead gently as she panted.  “Gulin was never infected.”

Terran flushed with anger.  “What happened?”

Gulin kept his eyes down, but his voice was steady enough.  “I took your wife, Terran, when you would not.”

“Do not blame Gulin!” Lahdel gasped.  I shushed her.

“When?” Terran’s voice was deadly calm.

“Before you left.”

I watched Terran’s fists clench and unclench.  “You can have her.” He spat.  Lahdel flinched.  “I do not want her.”

“Terran!” I protested.  “Be kind!”

“Kind?” he snarled at me.  “Kind to the woman who betrayed me?”

“You betrayed me!” She said, pushing herself up again.  “Why did you not tell me of Alea?”

“Yes, Terran,” Gulin spat.  “Confess your sins before you judge us.”

“I have not lain with Alea.” Terran said forcefully.  “What have you-?”

“Leave, Terran.” Gulin said.  “Now.”

Terran turned on his heel and stormed for the door.  I left Lahdel with Gulin and followed.  He raged all the way to his rooms, slamming doors open and kicking things out of his way in the cluttered corridors.  The servants were too busy and too few to do more the necessary tasks of living.  I slipped in before he could shut his door in my face.

“Terran.”

He whirled on me, jerking me to him. His hands were rough, calloused on my skin.  He pressed his head into my neck, panting.

“My love,” he said brokenly.  “What have we done?”

“What?” I demanded.

“I should have married you.” He said.  “You were right.  I should have had the courage to be with you.  Now Gulin has…”  His hands clenched around my arms.  “I will have to exile them both.”

“No.” I said firmly.  “Separate from Lahdel; give her to Gulin.  Marry me.”

He sighed.  “I want to.  I want to with every part of me.  Father will never allow it.”

“Do it now.  Without his permission.”

“Alea!” Terran exclaimed.  “He will disown me and Gulin both!  Why-?”  He checked himself, searching my face.  “My love,” he said softly.  “Do not make me choose between my kingdom and you.”

There was a time when I would have flared up in anger at such a suggestion.  That woman was dead, killed when she thought her love lost in the depths of the inland sea.

“I am asking you to make that choice again,” I said evenly.  “You already chose your kingdom over me once before.”

Terran flinched, looking away.  I touched his face gently, feeling the half-healed cuts under his rough beard.

“Alea,” he said, trying to reason with me.  “If Lahdel is gone-”

“I will not be your mistress!” I snapped, jerking away from him.  “I will be your wife or nothing!”

He stared at me for a long time, his eyes moving across my face.  Slowly he nodded.  “My wife.  My everything.”

He caught me as I faltered.  I hadn’t thought he would agree to it; it was madness.  I could only hope that in the confusion, no one would notice until it was too late.

He held me close, his breathing slowly calming.

“It must be at once.” Terran said.  “They already know I’m back.”

“What happened? Where have you been?” I asked, holding his face still so I could see his eyes.  They were dark, shut to me.

“Later,” he promised.  “Not now.”



The High Priest looked from Terran to me to Gulin to Lahdel lying gasping in the bed.  He grimaced.

“And what assurance do I have that you are not lying?”

Gulin started up, but Terran shoved him back down into his chair.

“Our souls are own business,” Terran said in the voice I remembered.  The voice of a man who commanded other, lesser men.  “Do it.  Now.”

The High Priest glanced at the Secretary of the Records.  “Very well,” he said.  “I will.  But on your own souls be it.”

Terran sneered at him and turned to the Secretary.  “Now.” He prompted, his hand tight on mine.

It was over in moments.  Lahdel signed each paper, the writ of separation and the marriage contract.  My hand was shaking as I signed under Terran’s name.  The Secretary fixed a seal to each, making them binding and legal.

He and the High Priest bowed and left, each looking upset.  The silence weighed on me, pressing me down.  What had I done?

Terran shook himself.  “Congratulations, brother,” he said stiffly.

Gulin scowled, but stood to bow.  “And you.”

“Come,” Terran said to me.  I followed him, my hand trapped in his.  He had taken the time to bathe and shave.  As we wound our way down the corridors, courtiers stared, astonished.  They grabbed at him, but he shoved them away, sending them scurrying back with hard glances.

“Terran!”  I protested as we passed the turn for the king and queen’s apartments.  He didn’t slow until he pushed shut his own door and locked it.

“No one will take you from me again.” He said, reaching for me.  “I swear it.”



It was more than I could possibly imagine.  I had all of him now, not just his love.  He was mine, forever.

Terran brushed my hair from my face, smiling, much of the desperate tension gone from his expression.

“Now I can face my father.” He said, helping me to my feet.  I flushed as he held my face in the light, examining it.

“You are beautiful,” he said slowly.  “I had forgotten.”

“Most men do.” I said tartly.

He grinned.  “No, they don’t.”  But it died as quickly as it had come.  “Alea, he will be furious.”

“I know.” I said.

He took a deep breath.  “But no matter what happens, I do not regret it.”

“Only now you realize?” I asked dryly.

He scowled.  “Can you not be serious, ever?”

“Not now!” I cried. My joy was intoxicating.  I was hysterical; I could feel it and I relished it.  “Not ever!  You are home with me!  I love you!”

He pulled me close.  “I must go to him.  Will you come?”

“Of course.” I said.



The king looked up from his letter, his mouth dropping open.

“Terran!” he breathed.  “They said you had been seen, but I couldn’t…”  He stood slowly, blinking.  “It is impossible.”

“I am here, father.”  Terran said firmly.  “And I will tell you what happened some other time.  What is happening here?”

The king shook his head groggily.  “A plague, you must have seen.  Alea, tell him…”  The king looked at me again.  His eyes flicked down to where Terran’s hand clasped mine firmly.  “Terran?” He asked, bewildered.

I stepped forward.  It must be done at once.  “Terran is not the father of Lahdel’s child.  Gulin is.  Terran never lay with Lahdel; he loved me, but married her out of duty to you.  He and Lahdel have just separated and she and Gulin are married now, as are Terran and I.”  I laid the documents on the table.  The king stared at them.  He sat suddenly as if the strength had gone out of his legs.

“I have taken Alea,” Terran added, making my entire body flush.  “There is no going back now.  I will take whatever punishment you wish.  I will not be separated from Alea.”

The king put his head in his hands and sat silently.  Finally he looked up.  “There is a plague,” he said vaguely.  “We have asked for aid, but our neighbors have closed their borders.  It is killing the commoners; we cannot stop it.”

Terran nodded slowly.  “No cure?”

“None can be found.”  The king said grimly.  “They have tried everything.  We must simply wait until it runs through us.”

Terran scowled, not accepting that answer.  “What is being done to ease the situation?”

“If the illness is caught early, the victim will mostly likely live.”  I said.  “We have hospitals, every healthy man and woman working to doctor those in need.”

Terran gripped my hand.  “Show me.”



I had to make him lie down and rest.  He was gaunt, nearly half starved.

He fell into bed, already half-asleep.  I hesitated, not sure what to do.

He gripped my hand before I could move away.  He sat up and grabbed my skirt.  It one swift motion, he pulled it my dress over my head; me too surprised and embarrassed to stop him.  He pulled me down to the bed and pressed my head to his chest.

“I am never leaving you again.” He said.

I was crying, half joy, half terror at what was going to happen now.  His hands were gentle as they played with my hair.

“What happened?” he asked suddenly, his voice thick with fatigue.

“When?”

“That day.”

I knew which one he meant.  “I don’t know.”

“I have tried to puzzle it out a thousand times.” He murmured.  “I cannot decide just what it was that changed about you.”

“You didn’t love me before?” I asked, turning to look up at him.

“No.” He said.  “I liked you.  But you were just another woman, another courtier.”

“Did you…” I swallowed.  “Did you love Lahdel?”

“No.” He said firmly.  “I did not.  Nor have I ever.”  His arm tightened around me.  “You will laugh at me.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“I looked up and I realized your eyes were green.”

“What?” I said, laughing just like he said.  “You had to have known that before!”

“I did.” He said.  "But you also had dirt on your face.  Your skin was pink from the sun.  I could count the freckles across your nose.  I could smell you.”  He took a deep breath, ragged and quick.  “And your eyes!  You were the most real thing in the entire world.”

“And that is why you loved me?”

He shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I just know I did.  And when I decided I had to marry Lahdel…”

“Don’t speak of it!” I said fiercely.  “I never want to hear her name from your lips again!”

He pushed me away, staring down at me.  “Alea!”

My tears were hot and jealous, though I didn’t know why.

“Alea, my love,” he said, kissing my face softly.  “Alea, Alea.”

Deep inside me, the snarling, whimpering monster I had denied for so long, kept pressed down, awoke fully.  It reared up now, furious, exploding with my rage and terror.  I screamed at my new husband, beating his chest with my fists.  Every nightmare I had had, every second of agony, of despair, came pouring out.

He grabbed my wrists, holding me to him as I sobbed.  I kicked and struggled, raging at him, at my princess, at Gulin, everyone.  I watched myself go to pieces, observing in an absent sort of way that I was acting insane.  I didn’t care.  The only thing that had been holding me together before was Terran’s promise, one I took as rash and impossible, one that I had doubted in my fear and grief.

But he had never loved Lahdel.  He had never known her.  I was his and only his.  He was mine.

When I could think again, I was trembling, gasping from exertion.  He kissed my forehead, rubbing his cheek on my skin.

“I will never speak her name again,” he promised softly.  “You will forget I was ever married to her.  I never wanted her.”

“I know.” I admitted, ashamed of my outburst.  “Forgive me.  I am acting like a spoiled brat.”

He grinned.  “A little more extreme than that, I think.”

I made a face and he laughed out loud.  It soothed every rough place in my heart.

“My darling Alea,” he whispered, kissing me.  “Sing for me.”

“I cannot sing lullabies, or softly,” I protested.

His next kiss was deeper, more urgent.

“I don’t want you softly, Alea.”

10 June, 2011

No longer sick!

Yay!  I feel better!  Woot!

I also have been working hard on a manuscript I am seriously considering sending to a literary agent.

Duh, duh, duh!

Yeah.  I am scared.  That's a huge huge step in the whole becoming a novelist thing.  I think it will be similar to having a piece of music I have written performed.

I am a classical musician and nothing is more nerve wracking. Not a big solo, not standing alone on stage before a crowd of ten thousand (did that once-yikes!).  But standing backstage while someone else performs a piece that you have created...I had to sit with my head between my knees the first time it happened, or else I think I might have fainted.  And I am not a 'fainting' sort of person.

It has been said that a writer or musician or any other sort of creative person, reveals themselves in their work.  I suppose that's true in the obvious sense.  Since it is my book, my characters will do what I want, or what I would do, in a given situation.

And when I look back at my own short stories, written when I was little and terrible, teenage and angsty, and now adult attempts (and very mature, of course), they do have threads in common.

I like writing from a male perspective.  I like using soldiers as characters, whether modern or ancient.  Princes/kings play a big role.  Maybe I'm just reliving my Disney-centered childhood all over again as a writer?

There are princesses, too, though.  Usually tough-minded independent women who plant their feet and boss people around.  Is this a reflection of who I am?  Or who I want to be?  Only my family and friends could say.  And I'm sure they are laughing hysterically at this very moment.

I like catastrophe.  Invading aliens.  Plagues.  Zombies.  End of the world stuff.  I even have a story half written about wormholes destroying the earth and sending people to alternate dimensions.  Not much character-only driven drama.  Or reflective prose.

I think, after my long and illustrious career, I should write an auto-biography based solely on my love of world-ending plots.  It would go like this:

Elisabeth Treble, a pseudonym for XXXXXXXX XXXXXXXX, was a novelist in the early part of the twenty-first century.  She is known best for her - Holy Crap!  The moon just exploded!  And there are dragons erupting from the earth, ridden by mutants!  Quick!  Send in the National Guard!  And that new super hero that just crash landed in Oklahoma from a parallel dimension!  Run for your lives!

The end.

E. T.

06 June, 2011

Cousin of the Crown, Chapter Nine

Things have started to happen quickly now, in the story.  In the previous chapters, most of the action has been internally driven between the characters.  Now external events are going to shape the plot for a awhile.  Enjoy!

E.T.


Cousin of the Crown

Chapter Nine

 By: Elisabeth Treble



The king and queen were shocked.

“Truly?” the queen asked, smiling.

“Yes, your majesty.” Lahdel said in a clear voice.  I shuddered, keeping my eyes down.  I could feel Gulin trembling in the chair next to mine.

The queen came and kissed her daughter-in-law.  “My dear, congratulations.  And thank you.”

Lahdel nodded and returned to her light food.

I counted the hours until Terran came home.  He sent letters to his parents, telling them of his successes and struggles with the treaty.  He sent letters to Lahdel, too.  I found her one afternoon, holding one in her hand.  I took the pages from her.  They were blank.

“Can he know?” she asked me, her voice small and terrified.

I shook my head.  “I did not know, and I spend every hour with you.”  I winced to myself.  Almost every hour.  She blushed, seeing my face.  “I think…”  It was hard to say it out loud, to admit it after months of keeping it locked away inside me.  “I think he tries to do his duty, even though he...”  Even though he wants me, not you.

Lahdel pushed me away.  “Leave me.”

I went, shutting the door softly.



Lahdel fell ill again.  I sighed, weary of nursing her already.  Our friendship was hanging tenuously, a pale shadow of our old love.  It was too damaged, the many months of my own envy and hate weakening it, so it nearly broke under the weight of her actions.

Gulin stayed far away from me, which was well to the good.  I could not take out my anger on Terran’s behalf on Lahdel.

She did get a fever this time, lying weakly in her bed.  I sat with her and read to her as she stared out the window listlessly.

She woke me one night, calling my name.  I hurried out, pulling on my robe.

“What is it?”

She was coughing, her skin flushed.  “Alea!  I-”

She broke off, her lungs rasping.  I held her while she coughed.  She cried out in pain.

“Lahdel, what-” I sucked in a breath, staring down at her hands.  They were pink with blood.

She lifted her eyes to mine, fever bright and horrified.  “Alea!”

I shouted, calling for a doctor.  Lahdel was panting when the woman came, pushing me back.

“What are the symptoms?”

“She’s had a fever for two days, and a cough.  Just now she…” I showed my hands, stained from where Lahdel had grabbed them, terrified.

The woman nodded grimly.  “Summer Fever, then.  Only two days, you say?”

“Maybe three.  But this is the first blood she’s coughed up.”

“If we work fast, we can save her.”

“What?” I demanded.  The woman met my eyes.  I blinked, collecting myself.  “Of course, doctor.  Tell me what you need.”



Lahdel was the first of many.

There had been an outbreak in the city, nothing worrying as the heat started and children spent more and more time outdoors.

Then adults caught it, the elderly and middle aged.  Then the laborers and the soldiers, until the entire city ground to a halt.  It took us completely by surprise.  Before we could get a handle on it, the first victims were dying, choking on blood.

I stayed by Lahdel as much as possible, but I was needed in the city to help.  I kissed her hot forehead.

“Lie still,” I told her.  “I will be back.”

She didn’t beg me to stay, which showed she knew the gravity of the situation.

A makeshift hospital had been set up in a nobleman’s house, just below the palace.  I went there first, helping the doctors and nurses as best I could.  Even if the symptoms weren’t bad, the sheer number of patients overwhelmed us.  The hours and days blurred together as we fought to save who we could.

People fled the city, taking it with them.  Reports came in of sickness spreading along the roads, then out into the wilder parts of the country.  I worked until I could hardly see, exhaustion dragging me down.

“Alea!”

I jerked awake, my head resting on the bed of child who was crying fitfully, coughing weakly.  I looked up to Gulin.

“Alea, how long have you been here?”

I shrugged, looking at the dawn breaking outside.  “I don’t know.”  I coughed once myself, achy everywhere.

“Get up.” He snapped at me.  “Now!”

I tried.  I went lightheaded as he lifted me in his arms.  I held on as tightly as I could, the world rocking around me, the colors smearing and mixing.  I squeezed my eyes shut in protest.

I didn’t remember much about the next week.  When I opened my eyes again, Lahdel was there.  She burst into tears.

“Oh Alea, I’m sorry!” she wailed, her voice still rough.  She hugged me close, crying into the bedspread.

I wiggled free.  “What’s wrong?” I asked.  My own voice startled me, hoarse and grating.

“I thought I’d lost you!”  She said, wiping her eyes.  “The doctors said you-that you might not wake up again!”

“I’m awake,” I assured her, not happy to be so.  “I’m hungry.”

“Here.”  She insisted on feeding me small sips of broth.  I was exhausted before I was full and sank back into unconsciousness.



I healed slowly and the doctors would not let me risk a second infection.  I was stuck in the palace, doing what I could from behind the gleaming walls.

I was helping boil and clean cloths in the palace kitchens when Gulin came looking for me.

“Alea.” He said.

I froze, staring at him over the scalding water in my tub.  His eyes stabbed at me, a warning, almost, and hopeless.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Alea, come with me.”

I dropped my cloths and hurried after him.  He stopped in a dim passageway.  He wouldn’t turn to look at me.

“Gulin, what is it?”

His fists clenched.  I looked; he held a piece of paper.  I worked it free of his hand, wiping my own on my rough dress.

It was a letter, marked with the seal of Z.  Terran.

I opened it.  It wasn’t Terran’s writing.  I looked up.

“Gulin, what-”

“Read it.”

I focused on the tight scribbles, written in haste.  Phrases jumped out at me, leaping off the page to claw at my heart.

Unexpected storm.  Lost.  No sign of the ship.  No survivors.  Presumed dead.

Gulin caught me as my legs gave away.  He held me close, pressing my head into his chest.

“Alea, I’m so sorry.” He whispered hoarsely.  “Alea, please.  Believe me.  I am so, so sorry.”

I wasn’t crying.  I stared into his arm, feeling his voice rumble under my cheek.

“What can I do?” he asked, lifting my face in his hands, his eyes searching mine.  “Tell me, Alea.  I will do anything you-”

“You’ve done enough.”

He jerked away.  “Alea?”

I took a breath, the first since I’d seen the words.  Lost.  Dead.  Gone forever.  I shook off his hands, turning back to the noisy kitchen.

He had done enough already.  He had ruined everything.  He had stayed when Terran went.  He had killed Terran.

I stared into my pot, the white sheets and cloths swimming under the shimmering water.

They were heavy as I dipped my paddle in and lifted them to a second tub.  Steam seared my face, leaving my eyes watering.  I dipped my paddle in again, catching the rest and moving them to the cooling tub as well.

A woman in a crisp white dress came and took it away, her hands wrapped up to protect them against the heat.  A second load was dumped in my tub, another load of wood added to the stove underneath.

“Start the timer.” I said.  A girl, too young to help with the lifting, turned over an egg clock, marking the time until the sheets were sanitized and safe for use again.

I sank to my knees.  Despite the raging heat from the ovens, I shivered, a heap on the floor.  I stared at my hands, red and raw from the fires and scalding water.

What would I do now?  How could I go on?

“Time!” the girl said.  I pushed myself up, lifting the sheets out, repeating the same motion I had made a hundred times today, a thousand times, the only thing I had ever done my whole life.

“Lady Alea?”

I turned.  The king stood in the doorway.

“Yes?”

“Lahdel needs you.” He said.  I nodded.

“I will go.”  His eyes had no pity for me.  Only for the princess.  For the child he thought was Terran’s.



She relapsed, sick all over again.

This time it lingered.  I feared for the child.  It had no say in its parents, in how it was conceived.  And it would kill Lahdel to lose it.

I gripped the window sill, the edge biting into my palms.  Why wasn’t she stronger?  Why was she so helpless, always needing me?

I only cried at night, when I was alone.

I could see Gulin watching me, wary around me.  What was he waiting for?  For me to wail with grief?  To scream and fight something I could not change?

Lahdel stirred.  “Alea?”

I turned.  “Yes?”

“I think…”  Her hand was on her stomach.  “Come see.  I think I can feel it.”

I went, lifting the covers.  I ran my hand over her abdomen.  It swelled outward slightly, at odds with the fragility of the rest of her.  She had always been slight.  With her morning sickness and two bouts of fever, she was nearly emaciated.

“Yes.” I said.  “You are showing.”

She turned her face away and cried roughly.  I didn’t comfort her.

I had given up.

02 June, 2011

B to the O R I N G

BTW, totally stole that title from one of the many cartoons I watched today.

As you may have surmised, I am still sick.  I wasn't sure what I was expecting to happen.  Maybe that I would wake up this morning and suddenly feel better.  Not so much.  My sore throat has calmed, but now I just feel...I don't even have a word for it and I don't have the energy to think of something descriptive.  That's how I feel.  Like I am incapable of description due to my illness.

But now, I am bored.  Another think you may have surmised:  I have an entirely over active imagination.  I'm pretty much going around in "la-la land" all the time.  When I'm at the store.  While I'm driving.  Making dinner.  Reading doesn't count; it's like "la-la land" impressed upon my brain externally.  That's probably why I like reading so much.  It gives my brain a break from having to occupy itself.

And my dog agrees that today is boring.  Usually we are somewhere she can run and bark and chase things, dig where she's not supposed to, roll in the grass and generally have a fantastic time.  Today we are at home.  In the apartment.  Doing nothing.  Even her ability to sleep on my pillow for hours on end is taxed sorely.

She keeps coming up and staring at me, like I'm going to magically make a backyard appear on the deck.  When she does consent to leave the bed and stand longing at the sliding door, I let her out.  She prances out all like "Yay!  Mom remembered I'm a dog, not a piece of- wait a second!  This is the back porch!  I can't see anything because we're three stories up and there's this stupid railing in the way.  Aw, man!"  Then she comes back inside and flops down on the floor and stares at me some more.  Sorry baby puppy.  Mom is sick.  And yes, I refer to myself as 'mom' when speaking about and/or for my dog.  Shut up.

No progress on anything.  I took some more Tylenol (endorsement anyone?), so hopefully my brain will lurch out of it's stupor and I can do something today.  Besides stare blankly at the TV.  But then, sleeping does sound nice.  Scoot over, puppy.

E.T.

01 June, 2011

Too tired for even a pithy title...

So, today was unproductive.  By unproductive, I mean I got nothing accomplished at all.  And by nothing, I mean I sat on my butt and watched cartoons all day.  And by all day, I mean ALL DAY.  My eyes hurt.  But this is not entirely the cartoons' fault.

It began about noon today.  I was sitting at the table eating my lunch (watching cartoons.  CURSE YOU NETFLIX!) when I got the weird feeling in my throat/sinus.  You know what it is.  The 'haha! I'm a sore throat coming and there's nothing you can do about it!" feeling.

I tried to willpower it away.  Sometimes, if I concentrate very hard, I can scare and/or intimidate a cold so bad, it just never happens.  This has come in handy for important days like my wedding, my final exams, BIG IMPORTANT interviews and such.  (I'm all about capslock today.  Usually it's italics.  Huh.)

So I sat, watching my cartoons, and tried to deny the inevitable.  It crept upon me, steeling over my senses, leaving me in a dull stupor that only lying on the sofa and watching yet more cartoons could ease.  That and a couple of Tylenol and bowl of scorching hot soup.  With buttery English muffins.  Yum.

Now, I feel like I've a spike driving between my eyes and I am hyper-aware of my sinus cavity.  Funny how you never really think about the empty space in your head.  Unless of course, your head is empty all the way through, then you probably think about nothing, ever.  But mine is inflamed and irritated and the Tylenol, while helping, has not banished the problem.  And my skin hurts.  Like I almost have a fever, but not quite so I just ache and feel like poo.  That's right, I said poo.

I made a few feeble efforts to make my day more productive.  Naturally, after my pre-sore throat feeling kicked in, I was ashamed of my morning of slacking.  If I had known I was going to be sick for the next few days, I would have been more proactive.  I would have done some laundry.  Did the dishes.  Made dinner and put it in the refrigerator.

Bummer is, I still had to do the laundry and the dishes.  My Darling Husband made dinner, but I did spend a half an hour at the sink washing silverware.  Our dishwasher is silverware-challenged.

Once those pathetically annoying chores were finished, I thought 'hey, I'll write some to take my mind off how crappy I feel.'

Long story short: waste of time.  I stared at my blank computer screen for a while and decided I needed more cartoon stimulus.  It didn't help.  BTW, my DH just made hissy noises at me while holding his fingers in a cross before him to protect himself against my germs.  I'll have you know that he was sick with this last week and totally gave it to me, not the other way round.  If I find garlic in the bed, I'm going to be severely displeased.

Anyway, back to writing.  The little bit I did manage to get out was supremely whiny and not at all in keeping with my characters.  So I erased it and gave up.  Maybe tomorrow.  I'm pretty sure I'll still be sick then, but I can hope and strive and bend my will against these germ things.  They won't know what's hit them.

And a different note, do you think I've mentioned Tylenol enough in this post to warrant an endorsement?

E.T.