BalletBear - Page 2

Some old--Some new
Some soft--Some rough
The patches of the beautiful creation we made to together
Shake out the dust-- air it out
It’s time to add another patch
Another stitch--another thread
Where’s the needle?
Up and down
Down and up
Another--stitch
Fill in the holes and gaps
Patch up the rips and tears we made
Another stitch--another thread
Remedy the pain left behind
Wrap me in your warmth again
Another stitch--another thread
New fabric to weave stronger
And new stitches and threads to... Read Full Chapter

I stoke the flames with one hand and push some loose strands of my hair back up into my cap. The jolly sound of camaraderie and a fiddle fills the inn’s main room and makes me smile. The smell of stew and stale alcohol mixes in the air along with the earthy smell of mud from the sweet rain outside. I stand up and see Captain Crawford sitting with his men at one table speaking in quiet tones. Lieutenant Gray seems disinterested in whatever bawdy joke Lieutenant Martin is making. Captain Crawfo... Read Full Chapter

“Thank you, girls,” I call to my sisters as they cross the lawn carrying the washing. I place one hand on my hip and use the other to shade my eyes from the noonday sun. Abigail is perfectly capable of carrying the basket herself, but little Cornelia loves playing the little woman, helping about the inn and Abigail is good natured enough to entertain her.
“Here, Elinor,” grunts Abigail. I smile at them.
“Much obliged, dear girls,” I say.
“Mother has one more basket!” Cornel... Read Full Chapter

"Elinor!"
I startle slightly and prick my finger on my needle as I hear my name called. I place my embroidering hoop down and rush out into the main room to see my mother.
"Yes, Mother?" I say, rubbing the small drops of blood into the corner of my apron.
"Will you go with Thaddeus to town and buy some things for me? I would go myself, but there is too much to be done here."
My stomach jolts at the thought of Thaddeus, our stable man. He is a man of perhaps nine an... Read Full Chapter

You came back? he asks
Yes I came back, says I.
And what do you think? he asks with no emotion, save for curiosity.
Nothing, says I.
You have been here many times before? he asks me.
Indeed, I have spent many a joyous and woebegone days here, says I. Memory is such a painfully beautiful thing.
You left once, he says.
Yes, says I.
What for? he asks to me.
I was tired, says I.
You went for a long time, he says.
I did, says I.
And you missed this place? he asks.
I missed it, says I.
And it m... Read Full Chapter