#beautifulanddazed

[faceof-thestrike]

❤

Marianne-

I'm not sure if boys write letters like this to gals like you anymore, but I know my mouth don't always have a brain attatched  attached, so I knew this would be a better way to tell you than rambling on forever like I do.

I think I might be just a lot little bit in love with you. 

Come and find me once you read this, if you would.

Henry

[faceof-thestrike]

And A Thousand More

May 12, 1902

Marianne-

You probably ain’t gonna want to read this. I wouldn’t either, but if you don’t make it farther than this, here’s what you need to know.

I ain’t stopped loving you yet.

Well, now that I got that out-

It’s been a long time. Almost a year. Just turned 20 yesterday. By the time you read this, it’ll be even longer. I’m sure I’ve been long gone and you’ve been calling me a rotten bastard for months and Pop’s trying to invent a time machine just to wring my neck. That’s how things was when I got back here, I got myself a fist to the face and ten angry kids jumping me cause they thought I had left them for dead, and if I was ever to come back to that big old mansion I’m sure it’d be the same way.

It was a cowardly thing for me to do, leaving like that. And this is no excuse, but somehow, through that place’s magic, I got a letter from a friend. Things weren’t going too well there in New York and kids were getting sick and guys were losing their jobs cause they weren’t gonna stand up for themselves. It was real hard making that choice, the hardest thing I ever did in my whole life. But like I told you, 2015 ain’t for me. Even with you and Pop and everyone there.

And it’s too bad that 1899 or 1905 can’t be for you, because I’d give anything for that.

If it’s not too much trouble for you, Marianne, I’ve got one last favor to ask you. Look me up one day, using that computer thing you’re so good at. Maybe I’m gonna end up doing something important. Maybe I have a family. If you find yourself in New York one day, or wherever that family of mine ends up living, tell them a story about their grandfather, great grandfather, whatever I’ll be. Tell them about the silly boy who hawked headlines on the street, and who knew how to make pretty gals like yourself smile.

After that, go to a show with the new guy you’re surely courting, get up real high in one of those skyscrapers (I know they got them now). New York’s not the prettiest place, but if you catch the view around sunset, it’s something special. The view is high up on my list, second only to seeing you.

Who knows if you’ll get this. I’m dust in a box by the time you get this, and the post office might think this is just junk after a hundred years of waiting. But a buddy overs me a favor, and this is what I’m hoping he can do for me.

Yours, Henry

P. S.

If Pop ever does get around to inventing that time machine, pay me a visit. I’ll take a neck wringing for one visit from you.

[faceof-thestrike]

beautifulanddazed

Seven thirty was the time he had been instructed to be in the kitchen. With a watch that was consistent in only one thing- being wrong- showing up five minutes early was never a mistake. 

Henry arrived in the kitchen with time to spare- looking somewhat more presentable than he had earlier in the afternoon. He'd dabbed at a stain in his jacket until it was hardly visible, ran his fingers through his hair, and bent the brim of his hat back in shape. He'd even swiped someone's shirt from the laundry- but he'd left a note explaining the dire situation of being a nervous seventeen year old from 1899 with only one shirt and he had a date tonight, so hopefully that would suffice. 

He paced back and forth in the kitchen, checking his watch every two minutes without fail- what if he really had gotten the time wrong?

[faceof-thestrike]

beautifulanddazed "Actually a lot of people have when forced to." She laughed, moving everything about as she cooked. She swayed her hips some as she hummed, the tune light while she flipped things and stirred others. Soon enough the kitchen filled with all the smells,a soft sigh leaving her. -- Henry was mostly silent as she worked, switching from tapping his foot to swinging his legs back and forth As he waited. Eventually, he stood up, coming up beside Marianne, leaning forward onto the counter to get a look at what she was making. "So, what goes into this thing?"

[ladycaptainkirkland-blog]

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[ This. You can't convince me other ]