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[OPEN] Moving
Who: Angel and Y'all
What: Moving Day and the Surrounding
When: Early December
Where: Yeah!
Warning(s):
1. So take your shaking bones
Eddie leaves on the ferry on a cold misty autumn morning, and Angel spends longer waiting for him to return to the farmhouse than it'll admit to afterwards, keeping a kettle warm on the stove for afternoon tea until the water's all boiled away and it's clear that how many lumps Eddie takes in a cup is irrelevant now, irrelevant ever again and Angel still doesn't want to admit it until it has to.
It has to.
And taking care of the farm, the bees and the temple all by itself just isn't going to be possible, it's not, even if its heart was hale and whole and beating in sync with Eddie's still, so something has to give.
Something has to.
Angel decides that it is going to move.
There are appointments with town hall to discuss possible new houses and apartments and townhouses (not homes, yet), and discussions of its beehives being transported into town, and paperwork to be filled out in a heavy, stiff, blocky hand as it figures out the work of transition, hoping that living in the city will be a replacement for the bustle of clucking hens and the nagging goat and it's going to need to get a stable situation set up for Arcadia, if the horse will forgive the relocation.
Angel is alone.
This is not work to be doing alone.
And that's before we get to the process of packing, of sorting through the debris of a life and a love and the twinge that reminds it that it can't cry every time it comes across a favored book or a shirt that still smells like Eddie, and that twinge is deeply painful enough to make it stop moving for seconds, perhaps minutes before it finds something to push it past inertia, even as it feels like some vital spark inside it is guttering and dimming.
This is not work to be doing alone.
2. And step out on your own
A sign on the bulletin board:
HELP WANTED MOVING. STANDARD PAY OFFERED: PIZZA AFTER WORK COMPLETE
3. Oh, the winter never stops
[This is your wildcard. It was meant for you.]
What: Moving Day and the Surrounding
When: Early December
Where: Yeah!
Warning(s):
1. So take your shaking bones
Eddie leaves on the ferry on a cold misty autumn morning, and Angel spends longer waiting for him to return to the farmhouse than it'll admit to afterwards, keeping a kettle warm on the stove for afternoon tea until the water's all boiled away and it's clear that how many lumps Eddie takes in a cup is irrelevant now, irrelevant ever again and Angel still doesn't want to admit it until it has to.
It has to.
And taking care of the farm, the bees and the temple all by itself just isn't going to be possible, it's not, even if its heart was hale and whole and beating in sync with Eddie's still, so something has to give.
Something has to.
Angel decides that it is going to move.
There are appointments with town hall to discuss possible new houses and apartments and townhouses (not homes, yet), and discussions of its beehives being transported into town, and paperwork to be filled out in a heavy, stiff, blocky hand as it figures out the work of transition, hoping that living in the city will be a replacement for the bustle of clucking hens and the nagging goat and it's going to need to get a stable situation set up for Arcadia, if the horse will forgive the relocation.
Angel is alone.
This is not work to be doing alone.
And that's before we get to the process of packing, of sorting through the debris of a life and a love and the twinge that reminds it that it can't cry every time it comes across a favored book or a shirt that still smells like Eddie, and that twinge is deeply painful enough to make it stop moving for seconds, perhaps minutes before it finds something to push it past inertia, even as it feels like some vital spark inside it is guttering and dimming.
This is not work to be doing alone.
2. And step out on your own
A sign on the bulletin board:
3. Oh, the winter never stops
[This is your wildcard. It was meant for you.]
no subject
It is very deeply touched. Which might be the only way to get it to eat right now.
"I'll definitely eat it, then, if you made it and want me to eat it."
no subject
And out of her bag she brings a large glass jar of the sourest mixed pickles she's been able to make -- cucumber, green tomato, carrot, and sweet pepper -- and another jar of her best local approximation (lacking some ingredients) of hot-and-sour soup.
no subject
no subject
Since she remembers him saying, the first they met, that strong sour and spicy flavors worked best for him.
no subject
He's a little overwhelmed by how thoughtful, that someone would consider his wants while thinking of his needs.
no subject
And for now, the important thing is that Angel knows he isn't wholly alone in this time of loss.
no subject
...and have an excuse to have company at some future point.
no subject