As the pen dries, thoughts on everything

  • February 12, 2006 at 11:04 pm #1685
    Ceara MacKenna

    ?Franklin, bring me a new pen! This one is drying up! Quickly now. Snap. Snap.?

    A grin crossed my face as I looked to the little street urchin I had turned into a little ?go-fer.? Franklin grew up on the streets of Edinburgh and still had that God Awful accent. But he was a good boy. And he knew how to keep his mouth shut.

    The old pen was put to the page, scratching up the manifest with my personal notes.

    ?Feb. 12, 1871

    Paris has fallen. And with it, my vin mariani line will dry up. I am unsure how long I can survive without it, but I must ration what little supply I have left. One sip per hour is all.

    The telegraph lines were cut. By whom, I can only imagine. I will have to send an entire ship to go to Paris. Under the ?guise of something or other, but, truly, it will be to fetch to me the sweet nectar that gives me life.

    I?m told that when Paris fell, the mighty French wept like the little babies they are. The grand Prussian Army marched in its streets and hoisted a grand unification flag up something or other.

    Bismarck is a great man, the leader of the great German revolution. The great unifier. If only HE could have been my father instead of my piss poor for an excuse who befriends strange street urchins. Does he not know he is playing with MY money? The coins in his purse are rightfully mine and will always be mine. God be willing. This woman ? whose name simply does not remain in my head at this moment ? has somehow worked her poor wily ways to enchant my father. She is not even a proper Lady! The way he looked at her that night. How could he forget Mother so easily? He should be finding a wife of proper name so that I may adopt a title. Surely he knows this. Letting emotions get in the way. The fool. Grandfather would have bashed his head into the ground by now.

    And sister, yes, finally out of my hair. With little brother Clarence back from God knows where, I will not be responsible for her insane ways. The way she cuts little rabbits and dissects who knows what, her occult ways will be the end of this family. But at least we found a suitor. This Baron fellow, first name Asher, a grand man with great potential. My sister is a good fit for him. I will try to make the relationship happen.

    The damn pen is running out of ink? my thoughts will be continued another time. ??

    Glaring at a wall, ?You damn Boy, my pen is out of ink! Franklin! And you have not returned yet. In fact, I?m screaming at myself now? stupid boy? how irritating?.?

    February 12, 2006 at 11:47 pm #2259
    Jeff Crowley

    The pen ink and vin mariani drying up, this will not do. :;grins:: nice post.

    February 12, 2006 at 11:49 pm #2260

    Your money, eh? We’ll see about that, won’t we, my boy? *smirks*

    Nice post, man! Keep ’em coming!

    February 13, 2006 at 1:37 am #2261

    Oh, brother… How can I be out of your hair when I am constantly in your head?

    ( Nice post. )

    February 13, 2006 at 8:51 pm #2262

    I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again….you sir are a steely eyed missile man. Keep em coming brother.


    February 14, 2006 at 8:42 pm #2263

    You rock, nuff said.

    February 25, 2006 at 10:00 pm #2264

    Ha! And I thought Sophie was the brat! Lol. Good stuff hon

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