little boy blue ; alfer & elias
Jan 5, 2020 15:47:32 GMT -5
Post by calla on Jan 5, 2020 15:47:32 GMT -5
ELIAS IZAR
It's well past noon when Laurel comes downstairs, puttering around in the kitchen, humming some old melody, before she turns, almost startling at the sight of me sitting in our living room. I think I got home early last night, I can't really remember, but she had already been in bed, so I grabbed the afghan her mother gave us at our wedding and slept on the couch instead.
"Didn't think I'd see you today." She says, perching on one of the chairs, as sharp as ever, but I've learned not to rise to it anymore. "You can make yourself useful, if you aren't predisposed already. Go tell your son to come inside, he's supposed to be helping me today."
And I almost ask her which one before I catch myself. "Where is he?" I ask instead, gathering the energy that seems to dwindle by every year.
"He's probably out in the fields." She replies shortly, tense, like I should've known that.
Maybe I should have. Because it takes almost too long to find him, hidden by the glare of the afternoon son and "Alfer," I call to him, walking closer, "Your mother's looking for you."
"Didn't think I'd see you today." She says, perching on one of the chairs, as sharp as ever, but I've learned not to rise to it anymore. "You can make yourself useful, if you aren't predisposed already. Go tell your son to come inside, he's supposed to be helping me today."
And I almost ask her which one before I catch myself. "Where is he?" I ask instead, gathering the energy that seems to dwindle by every year.
"He's probably out in the fields." She replies shortly, tense, like I should've known that.
Maybe I should have. Because it takes almost too long to find him, hidden by the glare of the afternoon son and "Alfer," I call to him, walking closer, "Your mother's looking for you."
