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[AN: This is the twenty-ninth in the Fox Tale series. Please read them in order.]
[Creative property of Lady Quindecim]
Brad made a comment about Saturday night at the gym and it took me awhile to rewind - painfully - to find some relevance to what he was talking about.
"Chole, hey, wake up." He was looking at me a little strangely - with friendly concern. It felt odd.
"Hmm?" I was still sitting there with a half-eaten leftover black bean burrito.
He continued, "I thought you had fun."
"Oh, yes... Yes, goodness, I had a blast, but... well, not that I am good at it."
"Yet," Ginger or Mary Ann appended to my comment. It is so hard for me to tell when I am not looking at them - and I have some pretty good ears.
"Yet," I accepted the amendment. "I do want to have another go at it." But my smile was fleeting as I thought back about Fox.
Mags nudged me with her elbow, "But you don't look so happy about it. I mean, of course, you will never be happy locking us all away."
"I don't want to lock you all away." I had not realized what I had said until I saw the look on her face. "Wait-no-"
"Chole, DG, you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah... I am fine I just - " I looked from face to face at each of them. "It has been a weird weekend."
Brad asked, "You gonna finish that burrito?"
I handed him my leftovers as I debated speaking my thoughts and talking about Fox when she was not there - warring over that feeling of talking about someone behind their back. Goodness knows I have felt the sting of that being done to me.
I gave in, "She was arguing with... I don't want to talk about her behind her back, but... I suppose that was her coach?"
"Hey, where'd you get this? It's really good," Brad said around a mouthful.
"He..." Brian began cautiously, "He does not let her compete with... Well, with cuts that could open and get on the equipment."
He clearly did not want to talk about it, but I was on a roll, even if it meant putting my foot in my mouth. "But, she does that to herself."
"Yeah," he agreed, "but she just thinks he wants her to stop and is making a big deal of nothing."
"But it IS a big deal," I protested.
"It's something she does." Brad's tone was flat and dismissive, but there was something more in his visage. I looked confused. "And what was that about locking us up?" I didn't know what to say.
With a sigh, Mags elaborated slightly, "Sure, we would like her to quit cutting her arms, but, we can't make her. She's done it as long as I've known her and goodness knows I've tried talking to her. Her legs too, by the way." Others seemed to be nodding their agreement - Mags speaking for all of them.
I was still searching for answers even when I should just be quiet. "But... all those poems - what do they all say?"
My friends looked at me sympathetically as they stood to head to class, but none so confused as Sam, "Say?' 'Poems?' They are just cuts."
I was at a loss for words, sitting there, stunned and confused. I was late for band.
* * *
Drummer Brad saw me arrive just as Mr Staccato came out of his office. Nearly everyone was in place when I got to my section. Drummer Brad quickly pointed out my part on the quads, but I had already been practicing this week's routine. "You're late." He had gotten all my equipment ready. I was going to have to make this up to him.
"I know. Sorry." Although, for any other class I would have been on time, but the idea here with band is that everyone has lunch before, so we all have time to get to practice early. So, early is on time and on time is late. I was still ready to start with everyone else.
Unfortunately, my day's distraction did not abate by putting drumsticks in my hand. In fact, the lunch conversation made it worse, if anything. Finally the rhythm of the music flowed into my consciousness, filling it and demanding my participation. It was still hardly my best, but I did get through it all, and after practice I had to put away a lot more than my own equipment.
* * *
Part of me was actually disappointed that Fox did not grab me by the arm and lead me from Band to History, but then of all of passing periods this was the easiest. I made a pit-stop along the way at that underutilized restroom with the broken stall door - more to just get away from everyone for a few minutes. I had no real time for it, but being late would not be so bad if I could get my head back where it needed to be.
To my surprise, Fox was standing, leaning against the wall next to the sinks. She raised an eyebrow in an expression that suggested she was at least as surprised.
"Looking for me?" She asked with something of a grin.
I shook my head slowly. I walked over and leaned on the wall next to her. We could see each other reflected in the mirror. I studied our outfits again, as I had this morning. "You waiting for me?"
She shrugged and looked around the restroom before looking at my reflection once more. I got the impression this is a typical stop for her.
"You work through both lunches?" I figured I already knew the answer, but I wanted to fill the silence with something other than my racing thoughts and imagination.
"Yep." She kept looking at me as I tried to figure out what to say next. "I suppose you won't be using the practice rooms during 7th period anymore."
"I guess not. We'll see how it goes."
"You'll do fine." There was a pause again and I really wanted to fill it, but Fox beat me to it. "I... you really impressed Mags."
I stood there silent and unsure. I could not tell if there was some sort of subtext in her phrasing; was Fox unimpressed, or more impressed than she wanted to admit? Maybe she was indifferent, but that did not seem right... Fox is the one who gave me the nickname after all. I had to say something. "I... I am glad."
I stood there for a moment, dumbfounded with myself until Fox stood and turned towards me. "It's okay. I don't take compliments well either." She turned to leave, "Not that I get any."
That, and her leaving, shook me back to the moment, "Wait, no, you should! You're awesome!"
Oh... My... Goodness...
[You have been reading the twenty-ninth installment of the Fox Tale Series by Lady Quindecim.]
[If you received this text from a source other than DeviantArt, please let the author know via e-mail to lady.quindecim@gmail.com]
[I hope you have enjoyed this installment]
[Creative property of Lady Quindecim]
Page Twenty Nine: Fox Has Secrets
Brad made a comment about Saturday night at the gym and it took me awhile to rewind - painfully - to find some relevance to what he was talking about.
"Chole, hey, wake up." He was looking at me a little strangely - with friendly concern. It felt odd.
"Hmm?" I was still sitting there with a half-eaten leftover black bean burrito.
He continued, "I thought you had fun."
"Oh, yes... Yes, goodness, I had a blast, but... well, not that I am good at it."
"Yet," Ginger or Mary Ann appended to my comment. It is so hard for me to tell when I am not looking at them - and I have some pretty good ears.
"Yet," I accepted the amendment. "I do want to have another go at it." But my smile was fleeting as I thought back about Fox.
Mags nudged me with her elbow, "But you don't look so happy about it. I mean, of course, you will never be happy locking us all away."
"I don't want to lock you all away." I had not realized what I had said until I saw the look on her face. "Wait-no-"
"Chole, DG, you okay?"
"Yeah, yeah... I am fine I just - " I looked from face to face at each of them. "It has been a weird weekend."
Brad asked, "You gonna finish that burrito?"
I handed him my leftovers as I debated speaking my thoughts and talking about Fox when she was not there - warring over that feeling of talking about someone behind their back. Goodness knows I have felt the sting of that being done to me.
I gave in, "She was arguing with... I don't want to talk about her behind her back, but... I suppose that was her coach?"
"Hey, where'd you get this? It's really good," Brad said around a mouthful.
"He..." Brian began cautiously, "He does not let her compete with... Well, with cuts that could open and get on the equipment."
He clearly did not want to talk about it, but I was on a roll, even if it meant putting my foot in my mouth. "But, she does that to herself."
"Yeah," he agreed, "but she just thinks he wants her to stop and is making a big deal of nothing."
"But it IS a big deal," I protested.
"It's something she does." Brad's tone was flat and dismissive, but there was something more in his visage. I looked confused. "And what was that about locking us up?" I didn't know what to say.
With a sigh, Mags elaborated slightly, "Sure, we would like her to quit cutting her arms, but, we can't make her. She's done it as long as I've known her and goodness knows I've tried talking to her. Her legs too, by the way." Others seemed to be nodding their agreement - Mags speaking for all of them.
I was still searching for answers even when I should just be quiet. "But... all those poems - what do they all say?"
My friends looked at me sympathetically as they stood to head to class, but none so confused as Sam, "Say?' 'Poems?' They are just cuts."
I was at a loss for words, sitting there, stunned and confused. I was late for band.
* * *
Drummer Brad saw me arrive just as Mr Staccato came out of his office. Nearly everyone was in place when I got to my section. Drummer Brad quickly pointed out my part on the quads, but I had already been practicing this week's routine. "You're late." He had gotten all my equipment ready. I was going to have to make this up to him.
"I know. Sorry." Although, for any other class I would have been on time, but the idea here with band is that everyone has lunch before, so we all have time to get to practice early. So, early is on time and on time is late. I was still ready to start with everyone else.
Unfortunately, my day's distraction did not abate by putting drumsticks in my hand. In fact, the lunch conversation made it worse, if anything. Finally the rhythm of the music flowed into my consciousness, filling it and demanding my participation. It was still hardly my best, but I did get through it all, and after practice I had to put away a lot more than my own equipment.
* * *
Part of me was actually disappointed that Fox did not grab me by the arm and lead me from Band to History, but then of all of passing periods this was the easiest. I made a pit-stop along the way at that underutilized restroom with the broken stall door - more to just get away from everyone for a few minutes. I had no real time for it, but being late would not be so bad if I could get my head back where it needed to be.
To my surprise, Fox was standing, leaning against the wall next to the sinks. She raised an eyebrow in an expression that suggested she was at least as surprised.
"Looking for me?" She asked with something of a grin.
I shook my head slowly. I walked over and leaned on the wall next to her. We could see each other reflected in the mirror. I studied our outfits again, as I had this morning. "You waiting for me?"
She shrugged and looked around the restroom before looking at my reflection once more. I got the impression this is a typical stop for her.
"You work through both lunches?" I figured I already knew the answer, but I wanted to fill the silence with something other than my racing thoughts and imagination.
"Yep." She kept looking at me as I tried to figure out what to say next. "I suppose you won't be using the practice rooms during 7th period anymore."
"I guess not. We'll see how it goes."
"You'll do fine." There was a pause again and I really wanted to fill it, but Fox beat me to it. "I... you really impressed Mags."
I stood there silent and unsure. I could not tell if there was some sort of subtext in her phrasing; was Fox unimpressed, or more impressed than she wanted to admit? Maybe she was indifferent, but that did not seem right... Fox is the one who gave me the nickname after all. I had to say something. "I... I am glad."
I stood there for a moment, dumbfounded with myself until Fox stood and turned towards me. "It's okay. I don't take compliments well either." She turned to leave, "Not that I get any."
That, and her leaving, shook me back to the moment, "Wait, no, you should! You're awesome!"
Oh... My... Goodness...
[You have been reading the twenty-ninth installment of the Fox Tale Series by Lady Quindecim.]
[If you received this text from a source other than DeviantArt, please let the author know via e-mail to lady.quindecim@gmail.com]
[I hope you have enjoyed this installment]
Literature
Held
We loved like arson:
After-sex after-
glow floats around like smoke, and distorts us,
restless, and tangles around the rafters,
the room imbued: remnants of star-fuelled lust.
We loved like fireworks, comets and fireflies.
We traced paths through constellations for hours,
across freckled skies, tasting the stars
with every kiss. The night went on for miles.
Now a cathartic still whispers, lingers
as the room burns orange in the morning's
luster. The carmine light bares a warning:
To keep my distance, or I'd clash with hers.
I leave her to draw the blinds, casting shad-
ows like prison-cell bars across
Literature
Our Issues
Your heart grew up in a black wooden box
and thought it fabulous,
its world of
right angles,
wood grain,
and eternal night.
It hated me when I bored the hole
that let the sun singe its eyes, cook its skin,
when rain collected the dirt on its skin
in a puddle beneath its feet and said:
"look how dirty you are, foul thing."
It hated and
hated and
still hates,
always crawling
under any
box it finds.
I kicked it
out of its hiding place.
It ran out howling, hating and being
ha
Literature
Counting for Nothing
Fourteen hundred paces wasted
walking to your door,
and every time a pointless pounding
headache - sore, resounding, raw;
what follows next? as you'd expect
a shocking exhibition of
that bloody mix of tears
and spit and semen spilled
across this gritty floor.
and from the day that we last spoke
I've counted twenty-four.
How come I'm your ignored -
you must have grown so bored of me
and now my fingers, gnawed and nails all bitten
paw through scores
of letters better left unwritten -
never sent, now torn and scattered, littered
with my bitter thoughts unuttered,
so utterly distraught I am, I poured a litany of scorn
and lo
Suggested Collections
Featured in Groups
If this is the first one you are reading, by all means please stop and read the first one [link] first, then proceed in order, if you would be so kind.
And if you like it/them, let me know. If you do not, I would still like to know. If you are completely indifferent and do not feel it is worth your time to comment, that's okay, you can let me know that as well.
Part One: Fox at First Sight → [link] ←
Part Two: Foxy Lady → [link] ←
Part Three: Still a Fox → [link] ←
Part Four: Fellowship of the Fox → [link] ←
Part Five: Fox Free Period → [link] ←
Part Six: Fox, but not Forgotten → [link] ←
Part Seven: Fox Report → [link] ←
Part Eight: Fox in socks → [link] ←
Part Nine: Lingering Fox → [link] ←
Part Ten: Bargain with a Fox → [link] ←
Part Eleven: Speechless Fox → [link] ←
Part Twelve: Fox Filled Dreams → [link] ←
Part Thirteen: In a Box, With a Fox → [link] ←
Part Fourteen: Fox and Stone → [link] ←
Part Fifteen: Chef Fox & On the Spot → [link] ←
Part Sixteen: Fox Proud → [link] ←
Part Seventeen: Fox is Watching → [link] ←
Part Eighteen: Foxless Day? → [link] ←
Part Nineteen: Cornered Without a Fox → [link] ←
Part Twenty: A Fighting Fox → [link] ←
Part Twenty One: What Fox Can Never Know → [link] ←
Part Twenty Two: The Wounded Fox → [link] ←
Part Twenty Three: The True Fox → [link] ←
Part Twenty Four: Holding On To Fox → [link] ←
Part Twenty Five: A Box for Fox → [link] ←
Part Twenty Six: A Locked Box for Fox → [link] ←
Part Twenty Seven: Putting Fox Aside → [link] ←
Page Twenty Eight: The Fox Path → [link] ←
Page Twenty Nine: Fox Has Secrets → You are Here ←
Page Thirty: Happy Fox → [link] ←
If, for whatever reason, you want to use any of this/these, please check with me first.
As always, comments and feedback are welcome.
And if you like it/them, let me know. If you do not, I would still like to know. If you are completely indifferent and do not feel it is worth your time to comment, that's okay, you can let me know that as well.
Part One: Fox at First Sight → [link] ←
Part Two: Foxy Lady → [link] ←
Part Three: Still a Fox → [link] ←
Part Four: Fellowship of the Fox → [link] ←
Part Five: Fox Free Period → [link] ←
Part Six: Fox, but not Forgotten → [link] ←
Part Seven: Fox Report → [link] ←
Part Eight: Fox in socks → [link] ←
Part Nine: Lingering Fox → [link] ←
Part Ten: Bargain with a Fox → [link] ←
Part Eleven: Speechless Fox → [link] ←
Part Twelve: Fox Filled Dreams → [link] ←
Part Thirteen: In a Box, With a Fox → [link] ←
Part Fourteen: Fox and Stone → [link] ←
Part Fifteen: Chef Fox & On the Spot → [link] ←
Part Sixteen: Fox Proud → [link] ←
Part Seventeen: Fox is Watching → [link] ←
Part Eighteen: Foxless Day? → [link] ←
Part Nineteen: Cornered Without a Fox → [link] ←
Part Twenty: A Fighting Fox → [link] ←
Part Twenty One: What Fox Can Never Know → [link] ←
Part Twenty Two: The Wounded Fox → [link] ←
Part Twenty Three: The True Fox → [link] ←
Part Twenty Four: Holding On To Fox → [link] ←
Part Twenty Five: A Box for Fox → [link] ←
Part Twenty Six: A Locked Box for Fox → [link] ←
Part Twenty Seven: Putting Fox Aside → [link] ←
Page Twenty Eight: The Fox Path → [link] ←
Page Twenty Nine: Fox Has Secrets → You are Here ←
Page Thirty: Happy Fox → [link] ←
If, for whatever reason, you want to use any of this/these, please check with me first.
As always, comments and feedback are welcome.
Comments7
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Rather convenient finding Fox in the restroom. Or is it otherwise? O_o Guess I'll find out next chapter. 
Love the dichotomy here with Chole's mind playing tricks on her and her perception/insight into Fox's cutting. Looking forward to seeing how that pans out.
Love the dichotomy here with Chole's mind playing tricks on her and her perception/insight into Fox's cutting. Looking forward to seeing how that pans out.