#mistflyer writes

[mistflyer1102]

I just wanted it on record somewhere that I have tried twice now to write short, little ficlets (completely unrelated to each other), but both have snowballed into (hopefully) short multi-chaptered fics.

[mistflyer1102]

Still somewhat in the middle of the writer’s block spell, yet for some reason, my brain thinks the solution is to personally challenge myself and see how long I can go posting at least one writing thing a day.

[mistflyer1102]

the call

Summary: Attempting to process the next step.

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I didn’t know how long I lay there on the floor, curled in a ball.

Something soft butted against my fingers, and I felt dumb, recalling Mousie. Also known as the calico feline free-loading roommate, she couldn’t even do pest control since I didn’t have pests (or at least I didn’t think I did, given her penchant for not doing anything of note during the day). She spent every day sitting in the kitchen window to watch birds while I was out at work. Her sense of entitlement extended to sitting on the kitchen counter when it came time for meals, in addition to the expected maid service when she made a mess. Despite what people generally called her faults, and I called her quirks, she was still a loyal friend, waiting for me when I came home, sharing my bed with me at nights, and seemed to have a sixth sense for when I was upset or angry. I cracked an eye open to see her staring straight into my eyes, her nose nearly touching the bridge of mine.  She gave me her usual croaky “Mraow,” before putting her paw to my face.

She needed dinner. I needed to get to the nursing home.

And do what, exactly?

Phone, I needed to find my phone again.

I pushed myself up so that I was sitting again with my back to the couch, Mousie butting her head against my knee. My phone had skittered off to the side. As I reached for it, my muscles screamed in protest at having lain in an awkward position for so long. My eyes still burned from earlier tears as I fumbled with the phone and swiped the screen to unlock it. I swallowed at the numerous notifications of missed texts and messages, first from my mother and then from various relatives.  First they were pissed on my mother’s behalf for my  hanging up from earlier, then they were growing more and more demanding for information about Uncle Hershel. Ignoring them, I instead dialed Frank, the office manager at Uncle Hershel’s nursing home.  As the phone rang, I used the back of the couch to pull myself up to my feet, trying to ignore the aching sensation in my legs and the insistent meowing as Mousie wound herself around my feet before climbing into my lap.

“Hello?”

“Frank? Hi, it’s me, Cassie,” I said, vaguely registering Mousie settling down.

“Cassie, it’s good to hear you. I am so sorry to deliver this news--”

“It’s okay, I heard it from my mother.” Please don’t rip my heart out again.

“Oh, I see. I am sorry you had to hear it from her. We couldn’t get ahold of you, and she was listed as Hershel’s next of kin after you.”

“No, no, you did what you had to.” I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. The second listing of next of kin had been a nursing home requirement, one even Uncle Hershel couldn’t fight. I was still listed as the sole medical proxy for Uncle Hershel, however, so Mom would have heard that he died, but not from what. Trying not to think of what a horrible great-niece I was for not being there for Uncle Hershel, I finally mustered the courage to ask, “The end...was he at least comfortable?”

“Yes. When it came time, he said to tell you that it’s his fault that we didn’t call you to warn you. He didn’t want you to worry.”

I remained still, silent, numbed shock settling over myself like a blanket for the second time in hours. I felt torn, in that moment, between helplessness and anger at Uncle Hershel. Why did you do that, Uncle Hershel? You knew I would have wanted to be there for you. How dare you.

I was so caught up in my thoughts that I belatedly realized that Frank was still talking. “Uh, Frank? Sorry, I zoned out just now. What did you say?” I said, slumping against the back of the couch as Mousie made herself comfortable in my lap before setting down.

“I said, your mother said you knew about the lawyer, and that you would settle any outstanding bills here. I will email you the funeral home information to the email address we have on file for you.”

Crap, I forgot about stuff like that.

I didn’t have a copy of the will myself, but Silas Caorrin was the lawyer that Uncle Hershel had named as the executor of the will. I had...opinions,  about Coarrin, but Uncle Hershel had known him for years, so I didn’t want to argue too much with Uncle Hershel about it. Or with Mr. Caorrin, for that matter. “Thank you, Frank. And thank you for telling me all this, I really appreciate it. I will be in touch about the outstanding bills soon--”

“Cassie...please don’t worry about that right now. Take some time for yourself and don’t worry about anything now. The lawyer can wait until tomorrow, we can wait a little longer.” Frank hesitates. “I am here if you want to talk about anything at all, something in particular.”

I slowly take a few deep breaths, trying to bring back my earlier anger and ever present grief back under some form of control so that I didn’t lash at someone who ultimately also had Uncle Hershel’s best interests in mind until the end. “Thanks Frank, I’ll, uh, call you tomorrow. Mousie needs food right now,” I said, the last of my words disappearing into a mumble as I looked down at Mousie, who looked up at me from her perch on my lap.

“Very well. Take care, I will talk to you soon.”

“Yeah...you too.”

I set my phone on the floor beside me, feeling drained. I told myself to wait until I got the funeral home information before starting to make the necessary arrangements, which would probably be tomorrow morning given how late it was today.  Taking a  few deep breaths, I gently scooped Mousie before leaning this way and that so I could force myself into a standing position despite screaming muscles at having stayed in one position for so long.

One step at a time, that’s the best you can do right now.

[mistflyer1102]

Cautiously optimistic that even though it’s been five years since I started it, I may actually finish Silver Bells this year.

[mistflyer1102]

the amount of writing that gets done tonight (if any), like everything else, depends on the Troublemaker

[mistflyer1102]

hello again!

Hi everyone,

I’m sorry for disappearing for so long. July was a bit chaotic for me in real life, and I’m just beginning to settle back into a stable routine now. That being said, I haven’t been entirely idle in terms of writing. I’m hoping to update both Fallen Shadow and Thicker than Blood very soon (perhaps within this week), with more updates (for those two and possibly other current WIPs) in the next few weeks. 

One other thing: I’m going to be pet-sitting for fyrepen33 for the next four months, so I’m going to be posting the occasional update here on Tumblr so she can easily access it. I’ll be doing my best to tag all related posts as ‘Wallace the fish’, so that would be the one to Tumblr savior if you want to. Wallace is a blue/green betta fish who lives in a bowl that will now be on my dresser, and his nickname is ‘Hershel’ (I still don’t know where that came from). 

I hope you are all doing well,

Mistflyer

[mistflyer1102]

one down, six to go

[mistflyer1102]

I don’t know whether to be annoyed or relieved that a minor irritation I had with this chapter was solved with a simple ‘Find and Replace’.