[livejournal.com profile] writers_muses 58.6 - Arcanum

Oct. 18th, 2008 12:09 am
sally_owens: (sally writing)
[personal profile] sally_owens
Sally crept up the stairs with Gillian close behind, brandishing the spoon in front of them. As they turned the corner toward the library where the sound had come, Gillian bumped Sally in the nose, with the utensil, almost ramming it up Sally’s nose.

“Will you put that bloody thing down! Sally hissed grabbing the spoon from her sister, “Like that is really helping!”

“Sorry,” Gillian mumbled, the stair creaking as she moved a step back from her sister. She bit her lip and watched Sally move among the shadows, “Hey...What do we do if we see HIM?”

“Who HIM?" Sally murmured absently, then " Hey!!Ow!” Gillian slapped Sally’s shoulder, “What did you do that for?”

Gillian pursed her lips and looked down the mahogany paneled hallway. She caught her breath with a start as the large grandfather clock in the library dinged off a single chime marking the quarter hour. Shining in the moonlight, a single book lay strewn just outside the library doorway. The pages and spine upended as if it had been merely dropped by someone who had been carrying too much on their way back to their room.

Sally reached for the light switch. The yellowed light from the converted fixtures from the gaslight era flooded the hallway. Sally went to where the book was lying and picked up the leathern tome.

‘Le Morte d’Arthur’ by Thomas Mallory. It was one of Michael’s favorites. As she went to scoop the book back to its designated place on the shelf in the library, from within the book, what appeared to be a single piece of paper fluttered to the floor and landed face up.

Gillian stooped to pick up the object, blanched slightly and then slowly handed it to Sally, fingers trembling just a little bit as she held it out to her sister.

“I think you better see this.” she murmured.

“What is it?” Sally took the photograph, her breath caught in her throat as she saw what it was. The photograph was of Sally and Michael backstage at CBGB’s in New York, just a week after their wedding. It was one that Sally had kept in a photo album in her room and that she thumbed through almost daily. Since it was a Polaroid, there was only ever one copy of it. Tomorrow would have been their third wedding anniversary.

How did it get here?

Later in her room, Sally slipped the ring over her finger, the two bands of gold cleverly entwined, one smooth, one roughened and gnarled lay one upon the other surrounding the full carat diamond to form rose, vine and thorns.

The ring had been, Sally noted, very much like their marriage. On some days when she was particularly careless in the garden or around the house, the ‘thorns’ would bite into her finger, sometimes bloodying it. Other times it brought back sweet memories of loving under the rose arbor in moonlight.


Muse: Sally Owens
Fandom: ' Practical Magic'
Word Count: 497
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