#folkangel01.

[rugcut-blog]

         ‘ you changed your nest. ’ obvious a transition as it is from the last time their paths crossed, she has fun making like it requires skills of deduction to figure this out. (olive had been in town a while back, caught the lightning bolts by lucky, lucky chance.) ‘ it looks sharp. ’

@folkangel​,  sc.

[paradicelost]

     “    oh, i’m sure he didn’t !    “  though, it’s hard to imagine at all what franklin could have said of him. hank has no doubts that franklin has told edith the positives about him, of what he had given up in favor of his siblings not going without. it almost makes henry seem like a myth in a way, which hardly affords him the comforts of human characteristics. he’s smiling at edith now and inwardly laughing at how she looks more at home in his own home than he does. everyone always does. 

     “    well, miss edith...i think he’ll hardly believe it.    “  henry drops his already quiet voice to the appropriate conspiratorial level. it’s hard not to be charmed by its southern dusting.  / @folkangel. / x.

[ubysm-blog]

when it does register, a shift through time feels to ernesto like a minor misstep. his world tilts, only slightly and only briefly, and he’s left temporarily short of breath and off-balance.

he doesn’t remember what floor this is supposed to be, or even if he had set out with one in mind, so the stairwell up which he climbs feels especially odd — both claustrophobic and endless. his footsteps echo in such a way that he feels the need to check repeatedly that he’s not being followed.

the source of the smoke (a woman) is up some way; not below, as he’d suspected. it’s as thick as the as yet unspoken awareness that they aren’t from the same era.

         ‘ this’s a funny place to hang out. ’

@folkangel,  sc.