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metamorphosis2010-04-15 05:40 pm
flair) wrote in metamorphosis2010-04-15 05:40 pm
Entry tags:
66;
Title: The road to Hell is paved with good intentions.
Characters: Spain, with thoughts on England
Rating: G
For 50scenes' 'Happiness'. I cheated again. Also, 'perro sucio' means 'dirty dog' or something kin to it.
He sat there until the morning shone through the window, hand gripping the quill and parchment scatted on the desk. Crumpled letters littered his floor, and Spain shoved over a pile as he scooted back in his chair and raised a hand to his head. A smear of black ink followed the movement and he smiled, tired and looking an age older, at the blanket sheet.
He couldn’t write a letter.
Well, he had written letters – and those were scattered on the floor, trashed out of frustration.
He smoothed his palm over the parchment, thought, then dipped his quill into the ink again and began to write, letters smooth and sloping and beautiful. He didn’t make it past the first sentence before he tore it in half and shoved it to the ground, groaning. How hard was it to write a letter?
“God, give me strength.”
He tried to make it lighthearted, happy, detailing how his personal life went and not how his citizens were starving and unhappy and how it was all that damn dog’s fault, how it was England’s fault, or how he didn’t sleep anymore – and hadn’t slept since Monday, and today was Friday if he remember correctly – and how he hated him. Instead he said how well his people were, how happy (even though he felt England could see from the soft shores of his island how much of a lie it was) they were, how he slept and dreamt of that sea dog’s head on a pike and how he wanted nothing more than to do that, but that he loved him and maybe he’d spare him from that one fate of many, and how he forgave him for everything and nothing.
He addressed it Arthur Kirkland, not Perro Sucio or Gran Bretaña or Inglaterra or anything like that, and he signed it Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo, not El Reino de España.
Finally finishing the letter gave him an odd flutter of happiness. At last, one that wasn’t horrible.
Characters: Spain, with thoughts on England
Rating: G
For 50scenes' 'Happiness'. I cheated again. Also, 'perro sucio' means 'dirty dog' or something kin to it.
He sat there until the morning shone through the window, hand gripping the quill and parchment scatted on the desk. Crumpled letters littered his floor, and Spain shoved over a pile as he scooted back in his chair and raised a hand to his head. A smear of black ink followed the movement and he smiled, tired and looking an age older, at the blanket sheet.
He couldn’t write a letter.
Well, he had written letters – and those were scattered on the floor, trashed out of frustration.
He smoothed his palm over the parchment, thought, then dipped his quill into the ink again and began to write, letters smooth and sloping and beautiful. He didn’t make it past the first sentence before he tore it in half and shoved it to the ground, groaning. How hard was it to write a letter?
“God, give me strength.”
He tried to make it lighthearted, happy, detailing how his personal life went and not how his citizens were starving and unhappy and how it was all that damn dog’s fault, how it was England’s fault, or how he didn’t sleep anymore – and hadn’t slept since Monday, and today was Friday if he remember correctly – and how he hated him. Instead he said how well his people were, how happy (even though he felt England could see from the soft shores of his island how much of a lie it was) they were, how he slept and dreamt of that sea dog’s head on a pike and how he wanted nothing more than to do that, but that he loved him and maybe he’d spare him from that one fate of many, and how he forgave him for everything and nothing.
He addressed it Arthur Kirkland, not Perro Sucio or Gran Bretaña or Inglaterra or anything like that, and he signed it Antonio Fernandez-Carriedo, not El Reino de España.
Finally finishing the letter gave him an odd flutter of happiness. At last, one that wasn’t horrible.