Post by Tabula Rasa on Jun 5, 2008 9:55:04 GMT -8
There was a long pause, though all that had come before it was silence.
Then there were words, gloriously gentle. What a precious, genuine surprise to see you, my most dear.
A silence that filled the space between thoughts sounded just like a smile. I trust you liked them well?
Well enough, was the reply, smug and bemused, that drifted towards the other voice. A pity I couldn't take them with me. They'll be wasted on her.
There was, if not quite laughter, then something resembling it in the way the distance and quiet pulsed. Did you think you would be the only one to come out to play, my sweet?
The answer was laughing, too, though there was a self-deprecating nobility about this mirth, as of a comfortable king. I suppose I must have done, allowed the royal reply.
There was a long quiet, regal but companionable, and perhaps there was satisfaction there, too.
But then came a softly distant assertion, meaningful in its mildness. Such little things do no harm.
The stretch between those words and the next was long and calm.
Of course not, came the soothing assurance at last, demure tones twining around the condescending words, I shall take your wisdom to heart.
Condescension was met with a bemused humility, the kind that makes pride only prouder by its presence. In time, however, even this small variation in the wavelength of the sound that was silence smoothed to nothingness.
Then there were words, gloriously gentle. What a precious, genuine surprise to see you, my most dear.
A silence that filled the space between thoughts sounded just like a smile. I trust you liked them well?
Well enough, was the reply, smug and bemused, that drifted towards the other voice. A pity I couldn't take them with me. They'll be wasted on her.
There was, if not quite laughter, then something resembling it in the way the distance and quiet pulsed. Did you think you would be the only one to come out to play, my sweet?
The answer was laughing, too, though there was a self-deprecating nobility about this mirth, as of a comfortable king. I suppose I must have done, allowed the royal reply.
There was a long quiet, regal but companionable, and perhaps there was satisfaction there, too.
But then came a softly distant assertion, meaningful in its mildness. Such little things do no harm.
The stretch between those words and the next was long and calm.
Of course not, came the soothing assurance at last, demure tones twining around the condescending words, I shall take your wisdom to heart.
Condescension was met with a bemused humility, the kind that makes pride only prouder by its presence. In time, however, even this small variation in the wavelength of the sound that was silence smoothed to nothingness.