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Feb. 26th, 2012 02:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
a_time_slipA blank piece of paper. A fresh pencil.
Not so much as a variable written- and then, a single vertical line.
Janie crumpled the paper, and tossed it over her shoulder.
Second blank sheet. Same pencil. Maybe it was the pencil. She jumped up and sharpened another, then another.
Fifteen minutes of staring at the blank, lavender paper. Janie used her special stationary when sending an important letter. Slightly scented- well that idea came from a movie, but it was still more special than using white printer paper, or sending a comm message.
Another twenty minutes- the paper remained blank.
She wanted to write that she missed him, that she didn't want to be away another day. Janie wanted to say that she was sorry, that she'd thought about their long history, and yes. She loved him, yes, she wanted to spend every moment with the one person who'd always been there.
But Janie knew it was a bad idea. She knew she was still broken- that he was broken and that they needed time. She wanted to ask him to rescue her, and to fly them both away to some distant planet, where they could hold each other and-
She sighed, and went back to staring at the paper.
P,
I'm sorry.
I went off the deep end and did some hurtful things. Please forgive me, and let's be friends again.
I love you,
Janie
She folded the piece of paper, and slid it inside of an envelope. Right before sealing it, she tossed in what she'd been working on for the past few days. In her hated group therapy sessions, they worked on crafts. She'd woven countless baskets and beaded several bracelets by now, but from those sessions, a talent revealed itself.
Janie was brilliant with clockwork devices. None would work with her around, but once she left the room, her delicate wonders would come to life.
For Phoenix, a butterfly.
She sent the letter with Lynn, hoping that the child would give the letter to him. Hoping that he forgave her.
Not so much as a variable written- and then, a single vertical line.
Janie crumpled the paper, and tossed it over her shoulder.
Second blank sheet. Same pencil. Maybe it was the pencil. She jumped up and sharpened another, then another.
Fifteen minutes of staring at the blank, lavender paper. Janie used her special stationary when sending an important letter. Slightly scented- well that idea came from a movie, but it was still more special than using white printer paper, or sending a comm message.
Another twenty minutes- the paper remained blank.
She wanted to write that she missed him, that she didn't want to be away another day. Janie wanted to say that she was sorry, that she'd thought about their long history, and yes. She loved him, yes, she wanted to spend every moment with the one person who'd always been there.
But Janie knew it was a bad idea. She knew she was still broken- that he was broken and that they needed time. She wanted to ask him to rescue her, and to fly them both away to some distant planet, where they could hold each other and-
She sighed, and went back to staring at the paper.
P,
I'm sorry.
I went off the deep end and did some hurtful things. Please forgive me, and let's be friends again.
I love you,
Janie
She folded the piece of paper, and slid it inside of an envelope. Right before sealing it, she tossed in what she'd been working on for the past few days. In her hated group therapy sessions, they worked on crafts. She'd woven countless baskets and beaded several bracelets by now, but from those sessions, a talent revealed itself.
Janie was brilliant with clockwork devices. None would work with her around, but once she left the room, her delicate wonders would come to life.
For Phoenix, a butterfly.
She sent the letter with Lynn, hoping that the child would give the letter to him. Hoping that he forgave her.