Archive | August 21, 2014

It’s You

Aug21

From [community profile] dailyprompt, 2014-08-21: “it’s always you.”
For #FridayFlash – it’s Friday somewhere!

It’s you. It’s always you.

I stand up, I answer the door. I don’t bother to look through the peephole anymore, because it’s always you.

4:35 p.m., every day. I get up, I answer the door. I take the package, I mutter thank you, and I close the door. There’s always a package. There’s never a conversation.

I open the package, of course. It’s from you, and it wouldn’t do to ignore it. Flowers, food, socks. I unpack it all carefully. Blue socks, because it’s me, tie-dyed and organic, because it’s you. It’s very you.

It’s always very you.

I put away all the presents, very carefully. I eat the food, slowly, savoring every bite. I put on the socks – my feet are cold, so cold. You always know what to get for me. That’s very you, too.

When I’m done, I throw out the packaging. It wouldn’t due to leave it sitting around. I make sure to put the box in the recycling. You’d like it better that way.

I try very hard not to notice that yesterday’s box isn’t there. Recycling, I tell myself. Like my feet are cold because the socks were missing this morning. Like I have a vase for the flowers, even though I only have one vase.

The doorbell will ring again tomorrow, and I’ll answer the door. It will be you. It’s always you.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/784514.html. You can comment here or there.

Doomsday Academy: First Day of History Class

Aug21

This is set in Cynara’s Doomsday Academy, several years after its founding. Dáirine is the daughter of Amadeus and Margherita, from Year Nine stories, and shows up briefly in Yoshi tales.

On the first day of class, Dáirine – Professor Lily – gave each of her students a small clay pot filled with dirt and a maple seed.

This year, as with every year so far, she watched the students as they looked in confusion between her and the pots.

One of them – a girl with the Aelfgar look to her, although that wasn’t saying much, around here – cleared her throat. Gróa, that was her name, poor thing. “Miss – Professor Lily? We already had science class.”

Brave girl. Dáirine smiled at her. “Yes. I know. But there are more things to be learned from a seed and a pot than, say, photosynthesis. Now, humor me, if you will. Plant your seed, then pass around the water.”

She showed them by example, planting her own seed in its little pot. “Very good. Now, this tree is going to be with you until you graduate from Doomsday-“

“What if it dies?” The young man had a curly mess of red hair and more freckles than any three people ought to have. Sawyer, his name was.

“Well, then, we’ll learn something from that, too, and you’ll get another seed.”

“So… it’s meant to be a metaphor?” Gróa leaned forward. “Sort of?”

“Very good.” Dáirine used her best you-clever-person-you smile. “Many metaphors. The first of which will be – that which you nurture, survives.”

She sat down on her desk and looks around. “So. What do you think that the survivors of The Great Mess nurtured?”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/784272.html. You can comment here or there.

Musing about Identity online – in which I talk about people as cartoon figures, but only at the end

Aug21

This is going to be a bit disjointed, apologies in advance.

I was thinking about identity online this morning (In part because a friend posted a comment which made me think their account had been hijacked).

We rely so much on that little icon to tell us who’s who – or the name at the top of the chat window. And, while I could probably imitate with some success the typing voices of my top 5 online friends, there is still a matter of trust – that when I’m talking in the comments to, say, Kelkyag, that it is actually the same person every time.

I get ~freaked out~ when I find out someone is talking to me on someone else’s account. It’s like… they put on a Friend One suit. At first, Friend One is just acting a bit strangely. Then, Friend One says something out of character, and by this point I’m starting to panic. Then Friend One says Ah ha ha ha no, this is Friend Two (Or Friend Ones’s Girlfriend)…

…and I get furious.

But *cough* that could just be me.

How do you deal with identity when your “mental image” of the person comes from a cartoon icon?

(Speaking of which, I’ve MET @inventrix in person, & I still picture her as her icon (not @capriox, though :-P).)

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/784049.html. You can comment here or there.