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(no subject)

Mar. 5th, 2007 | 08:15 pm

she stared at the timber frame ceiling above her, marveling at the boy's handywork. "i can't believe he built this with his own two hands," thought the ragamuffin. the stair was also expertly crafted. she noticed a shelf of books below the stair. she read the titles: "Audubon Guide to Western Wildlife," "Basics of Woodworking," "Poems of Nathaniel Hawthorn," and a nameless book bound in purple velvet with a silver heart emblem on the spine. she removed the purple book and began flipping through it. it was actually a scrapbook. a book of old photos, presumably of his family. one picture was of a mother, father and child. subsequent photos showed the child had aged. this book was in chronological order. after the fourth or fifth page there were no more photos of the mother or father. only pictures of the child. a graduation photo. a picture with a girlfriend. a picture of the house under construction. and then a picture of a man. he looked like the boy who had taken her in, but somehow he was different. he looked wiser, more knowing. she put the book back on the shelf and returned to her chair but the french doors. she wondered who the boy was. what had happened to him? where was his family? who was the older man? with these questions in mind she slowly dozed off into an afternoon of daydreaming.

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(no subject)

Mar. 1st, 2007 | 07:25 pm

she handed him the locket and to his surprise she began to cry. "you don't know what it's like to live a cold earthen hut all by yourself. i used to have a family, but they all passed on. i also had a fiancé, but he left me too. all i had was my hut - until i met you. but everyone has left me, and who's to say you won't do the same? i like you, boy, but it takes me a long time to trust someone. do you see why i can't accept your locket?" "i see. i am sorry about your past. would you like to talk about it?" "some other time. i should be leaving. i have troubled you enough." "going so soon? you don't have any proper clothes to wear. your old clothes were frayed and drenched in mud. i threw them out this morning." "well, go fetch them! i can't believe you threw my clothes away! how rude!" "i'm sorry but the trash was removed before you woke up. we'll have to find something else for you to wear. keep on the robe for now. i'll go out and find you some new clothes. i'll be back before lunchtime." so the boy left for the town centre, which was only a few miles away. the ragamuffin collapsed in a chair by the french doors.

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(no subject)

Feb. 17th, 2007 | 12:54 pm

so the ragamuffin hopped in the shower and washed away all the mud on her body. no longer was she a soiled curmudgeon; she was beginning to feel like a new person. with a towel wrapped around her head, she walked downstairs to show the boy how clean and pretty she looked, but he was nowhere to be found. she called out his name, but there was no answer. she walked by the basement door and heard a noise. a noise like a bur against metal. she descended into the basement and to her surprise she saw sparks flying all around. the boy was wearing goggles and he seemed to be polishing something on a spinning buffer. the boy looked up and turned off his wheel. the smell of model trains was in the air. "what are you DOING down here?" "i just wanted to see if you were okay. i couldn't find you." "well, here i am. you've found me. now leave me alone while i finish up this locket." "locket? who is the locket for?" "it belonged to my great-grandmother. her husband was in the great war and she kept his picture while he was in battle." "why are you polishing it now?" "i guess i finally have a reason to. you will look so pretty with something around your neck." "but you don't even know me. i can't accept such a precious heirloom." "i just have a feeling about you. you could really use a pick-me-up. and you're the only girl i've met in a long time. can't you accept it?" the ragamuffin reached out and took the locket. she opened it. it was empty. tarnished silver. "i can't accept this. i don't even know you. what do you want from me?" "i don't know. i just thought of it. it was sitting on my dresser, and thought it would make you feel pretty. not so dirty." "the mud is off, but i still feel dirty. everyone makes me feel dirty. and you will too. you're just like the rest of them. you don't think you are, but you are..."

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(no subject)

Feb. 11th, 2007 | 08:49 pm

"i have a house - a house i built with my bare hands, but it feels hollow. it needs something to bring it to life," said the boy. "It makes me sad to see you suffer in your house. maybe if you stayed here until we can build you a new home." "that would be lovely," said the ragamuffin. "come on, let's get you cleaned up."

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(no subject)

Oct. 23rd, 2006 | 04:42 pm

dawn came and the ragmuffin woke up to a mud-crusted couch. she heard footsteps. a teapot. a toaster bell. something sizzling on the stovetop. she fell back to sleep. "rise and shine!" said the boy as he placed a tray of breakfast on her lap. she wriggled herself into position. he looked outside. he could see her stone mound off in the distance. "you must have been so cold and wet. i'm glad you came when you did." "i couldn't stand it any longer. i love my house, but sometimes i feel like it's missing something." "i know what you mean."

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(no subject)

Oct. 12th, 2006 | 02:18 am

one sunny day the boy went outside to water his flowers. he saw the ragamuffin on her front stoop with her head in her hands. she was crying softly. "hello. what's wrong? it's such a beautiful day. you should be skipping stones on the river." the ragamuffin continued to weep. "we could go over to my house for an iced tea. i just made it. you can take a dip in my pool if you like. it gets lonely over there." she lifted her head and said, "i don't want any of your shit. you want to help me? then leave me alone." so the boy went back to his flowers. that night clouds filled the sky and it rained long and hard. the ragamuffin's old thatch roof began to leak. she looked out the hole in her wall. the boy's house looked so warm and cozy. her house was cold and dark every night. the rain made it unbearable. she curled up into a ball on the muddy floor. covered in mud she walked through the wet grass to his glowing bungalow. the boy opened his front door. he wrapped a blanket around her and ushered her inside. mud dripped on the floor. "i'm sorry..." she said. "it's not a problem. we'll clean it up in the morning." he brought her a cup of hibiscus tea. "my mother made this for me when i was little. it always made me feel better." she took a sip. "you have a nice house. it is very cozy. i am used to my stone house. it befits my personality. i built it myself, which is why i love it so much." "i designed and built this house. it is cozy, but it is also lonely. i wish i had someone to swim with." "sometimes i swim in the river, but the current is so strong! i get caught up in the whirlpools." "well you are welcome to come over anytime. i was going to build you a pool, but you didn't want me to." "oh i do! please build one!" "why not share mine?" the ragamuffin yawned. "why don't you sleep here on the sofa. i'll get some blankets. don't worry about the mud. we'll clean that up later." so she got settled into bed. "good night." "good night."

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(no subject)

Oct. 10th, 2006 | 02:36 am

as the silversmith diappeared beyond the willows a boy appeared who knew her name. "how do you know my name?" "i know you because my uncle was your captor. he placed you in that hut on the rocky hillside. you see, we are related. i am here to help." "but the only person i have met tried to fill my heart with metal. why should i trust another stranger?" "i am a craftsman. i can build you a new house." "i don't know. i don't know who you are. where you came from. what are your true intentions? are you just like the silversmith? he tried to hurt me. why are you here? what could you possibly do?" "i can help you build a new home. don't worry about me. i'll find my own food. i'll pitch a tent. just let me build you a new home. it's the least i can do after what my uncle did to you. it's about time you had a home that feels clean and safe." "but i am happy with my home. i built it with my bare hands. i am handy and strong and gifted and i can take care of my own property. it's built of river stones. it's not a mansion, but it serves the purpose. i like my dirty old mound of rocks." "suit yourself." so the boy proceeded to cut down nearby trees and produce lumber. with the lumber he built himself a beautiful log cabin by the river. the ragamuffin was tempted to visit him in his cabin, but she was determined to stay on her own property. "he isn't welcome on my property. why should i reach out to someone who thinks he is better me?" she thought. the boy continued to improve his property by building a walkway, garden, and swimming pool. the more he built the more it infuriated the ragamuffin. his property was alluring. certainly more captivating than her pile of rocks. but she stuck to her guns and remained inside her stone fortress. she still hadn't healed from her altercation with the silversmith. there was a hole next to her heart but it wouldn't fill in. she tried paste, cement, glue, caulking - but nothing worked. everything crumbled and fell out. nothing would bond with her body. so her heart was still exposed, still vulnerable. so she hid in her stone fortress.

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(no subject)

Oct. 3rd, 2006 | 10:06 pm

then she began to claw at the earth beneath her, pulling up sod and and dirt by the handfull. she dug a hole large enough for her to fit inside. she crawled in and, curling and writhing, suckled the plug in her chest. then the silversmith came around to build up her plug. he found her thrashing like an epileptic. he pulled her sweaty, dirty body from the hole and onto the grass. she continued to twitch. he noticed the hole in her chest and, fearing for her safety, tried to fill it with molten tungsten. her eyes opened and she cried, "stand back you scavenger! i am not here for your pleasure nor your protection. don't go near me!" startled, the silversmith stepped back and fell over his pail of tungsten pellets. his fire rod fell in front of him. the ragamuffin picked it up and threw it in the river. steam came off the surface of the churning water. "you ingrate! why did you toss my cane into the river?" "because you are powerless without it. you can't fill my hole now. there is nothing to melt your precious metal!" "ah, but you underestimate the strength of my will. there are other ways to protect your heart from danger. come here..." "no!" she crawled backwards, got to her feet, and ran up the river bank towards the nearby village. he chased her and caught her just before the bridge. he pulled her to the ground and took a pellet from his pail. "now i'll show you how tenacious i can be. none of my friends go with out a refill, and it looks like you are running on empty!" he pushed the pellet into her hole. he pulled out another and pushed it in. "that'll teach you not to go around empty. you are going to get hurt! you make us all look like fools. if no one has a plug then we'll all be doomed! i can't stand people without plugs. they are so fancy free. they don't know the dangers that lurk. they don't know how vulnerable they are. someone is going to give them a plug some day." "no, they won't! because they don't live in your world. they don't live in pain, they don't live in fear. they don't care whether someone might hurt them. they go through life like i do. as a free spirit." "what are you talking about. free. no one is free. we have to give up our freedom so we can survive. freedom is dangerous." "only you can think freedom is wrong. go on your merry way, and take these godforsaken plugs with you." she pulled the pellets from her chest and threw them in his face. the silversmith walked off.

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(no subject)

Oct. 1st, 2006 | 09:08 pm

she left the silversmith and went down to the river bank to find a cozy spot for her house. she walked up and down the bank until she found a glen. she entered the glen and foraged for food and supplies. she slaughtered a stray calf, and made a makeshift tent out of its skin and bones. she feasted on the muscles and organs. when morning came she started to retrieve rocks from the river bed. the river was frigid and the current was strong, but she manage to bring back enough rocks to build a small hut. during the following weeks she constructed the hut. "it's not the house i had imagined, but it will do," she said. she began to miss the angel. but then she realized that the angel was inside her. she was the angel.

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(no subject)

Sep. 28th, 2006 | 02:36 pm

seal your heart and protect it from passersby." again she cooed, "but how can a make a house by the river if have a metal heart?" the silversmith didn't understand. "of course you can build a house. you are protected. you won't have any trouble. nothing will stand in your way if you have a tungsten plug." "but a living thing cannot function around a foreign substance. it will either die or reject the substance." "of course you can function. we are all imperfect. sometimes we need other people to fix us so we can make our way in this tumultuous world. my folks fixed me when i was 8." he unbuttoned his shirt and pointed to the metal plug in his chest. "see? pa pricked me and filled me when i was about your age. it really hurt, but it has made me tougher person. no one can get to my heart now. i thank him every day for protecting me from strangers." "what would happen if you lost your plug?" "don't say such things! nothing can remove this plug. it's 99% pure tungsten. that means it is highly resistant to melting. if someone tried to remove it it would tear my heart wide open and i would surely bleed to death. i like to give it a fresh coat of tungsten once a year because it tends to corrode. the movement of the heart eats away at the metal. it would probably disappear if i didn't give it regular maintenance." "that's funny. i don't know anyone who has a metal plug. it's kind of cool. i look so tough. like i could handle a bullet to the chest!" "exactly. you are tough. someone could shoot you and you wouldn't feel a thing. it's a great thing to have. it comes in very handy, especially if you live in my neighborhood. everyone i know has taken at least one bullet to the chest." "that's horrible. why don't you just move?" "it's really not that bad. i'm used to it. i was a little frightened when i first saw you. you had no plug. i knew right away that i had to give you a plug. you looked so vulnerable just lying there in the grass." "but it hurt! why did you have to hurt me?" "we all must deal with the pain god has given us." "but god didn't give me pain. you did!" "it was for your own good. i couldn't bear to see a child lying there like an untamed animal. i had to reign you in." "why reign me in? there was nothing wrong with me. i had just given birth to myself. and then you decided to hurt me?" "listen, i don't know what to say. you are an adult now. there's no question in my mind that you can fend for yourself now that you have you plug. you are not the only one with a plug. everyone in my neighborhood has a plug. they all come to me for regular maintenance. i do it for a small fee. i can make a special trip to your house by the river when i am done with my normal rounds. how does that sound?" "no thank you. just leave me alone. i don't want this plug. it still hurts. when does the pain go away?" "it never goes away. but you never have to worry being hurt because you are already in pain. isn't it a great invention?" "but don't you miss out on pleasure if you are always in pain?" "true, but you'll get used to it. you're not alone. we're all in pain." "do you know anyone who doesn't have a plug?" "i've met some but they were of a different race. i couldn't understand what they were saying. they made it sound as if the plug was unnecessary, but i wasn't about to listen to all that jibberish. to each his own, right?" "i going to build my house by the river." "go ahead. more power to you. let me know when it's done. i'll come around and fill you up!"

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