Post by Bee on Nov 5, 2010 16:52:03 GMT -5
Liadan was alerted to something happening not by a sudden sound, but rather by the sudden absence of sound. She had relegated Eulalie’s frantic pleading and flailing into objects in the living room into the background noise. Now Eulalie had stopped and the little bubble of static she had built around her popped. It was probably for the best. The Avington protagonist had just romanced some attractive but haughty Highlander woman and they seemed on the path to activities that perplexed and annoyed Liadan. Romance always spoiled a narrative.
She shut the book and rose from the little meeting cubby. She had no doubt that things would soon be getting hairy downstairs if—or rather when—her sisters were apprehended with the cake, so she decided to retire to the attic in order to avoid both confrontation and suspicion. No one ever bothered her in the attic.
Except this time, apparently.
Fifi, Myfanwy, and cake.
“Nothing is sacred,” she said on a sigh.
She shut the book and rose from the little meeting cubby. She had no doubt that things would soon be getting hairy downstairs if—or rather when—her sisters were apprehended with the cake, so she decided to retire to the attic in order to avoid both confrontation and suspicion. No one ever bothered her in the attic.
Except this time, apparently.
Fifi, Myfanwy, and cake.
“Nothing is sacred,” she said on a sigh.
