Tell A Story Day
Apr. 27th, 2007 03:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
infiniteprydeIt appears that April 27th is, in the U.S., Tell A Story Day.
So:
Stephanie Brown solicits suggestions for something to write, cheerfully.
Batgirl 's ideas are always strikingly similar and related to this game, so. ^^;
Since she was the first one to respond, in her honor: what Steph's daughter, now five years old and coming up on six, is doing somewhere in the Gotham environs...
e m a L e e
There, she decided. That looked right. And sounded right. Not like the way Mommy wanted her to make her name.
Emily Glover hesitated and chewed on her lower lip. Guiltily, she stole a look aside at the carefully-block-printed letters on the paper Mommy had left. It had flowers on it, pretty ones. Mommy always wrote on paper with flowers.
Emily had the sinking feeling that she wouldn't get to write on paper with flowers unless she learned to put the letters together the way Mommy wanted her to. And besides, well -- Mommy wanted her to.
Her teacher told her all the time that she had to do what Mommy wanted her to, because it was only fair; Mommy didn't have a Daddy to help her anymore. Emily thought the fair answer to that would be to put Daddy back, but nobody ever said anything when Emily said that; they just got a funny expression and found Emily something else to do.
It was a Secret, she decided.
So it was only fair if Emily had a Secret too. That was all right, then. She'd write the way Mommy wanted her to anytime Mommy or her teachers were looking. But when she was just writing for her ...
Emily reached for the little diary with the blue border and the girl in a dress with flowers on it on the cover; she fished the key out of her hiding-place in the bottom drawer and turned it in the little gold lock, and she found one of her special pencils, the ones Daddy had given her. The short ones that wrote in all colors. This one was lavender. Because it was important. And because it was important, she even found the right day. Sometime before she'd scribbled on that day with green pencil, but that was okay. She could still see the lavender.
DeaR DiaRY
mY ReL name iS emaLee BUT iTS a SeCReT
Emily paused and chewed on her lower lip again. She wasn't quite sure if she'd gotten all of that right. Especially the real part. She was pretty sure there was supposed to be another letter. But that was okay; she knew she'd gotten secret right, she'd made sure she knew it by heart.
And even Mommy knew, even if she never said it out loud. Secrets were more important than what was real.
So:
Stephanie Brown solicits suggestions for something to write, cheerfully.
Batgirl 's ideas are always strikingly similar and related to this game, so. ^^;
Since she was the first one to respond, in her honor: what Steph's daughter, now five years old and coming up on six, is doing somewhere in the Gotham environs...
e m a L e e
There, she decided. That looked right. And sounded right. Not like the way Mommy wanted her to make her name.
Emily Glover hesitated and chewed on her lower lip. Guiltily, she stole a look aside at the carefully-block-printed letters on the paper Mommy had left. It had flowers on it, pretty ones. Mommy always wrote on paper with flowers.
Emily had the sinking feeling that she wouldn't get to write on paper with flowers unless she learned to put the letters together the way Mommy wanted her to. And besides, well -- Mommy wanted her to.
Her teacher told her all the time that she had to do what Mommy wanted her to, because it was only fair; Mommy didn't have a Daddy to help her anymore. Emily thought the fair answer to that would be to put Daddy back, but nobody ever said anything when Emily said that; they just got a funny expression and found Emily something else to do.
It was a Secret, she decided.
So it was only fair if Emily had a Secret too. That was all right, then. She'd write the way Mommy wanted her to anytime Mommy or her teachers were looking. But when she was just writing for her ...
Emily reached for the little diary with the blue border and the girl in a dress with flowers on it on the cover; she fished the key out of her hiding-place in the bottom drawer and turned it in the little gold lock, and she found one of her special pencils, the ones Daddy had given her. The short ones that wrote in all colors. This one was lavender. Because it was important. And because it was important, she even found the right day. Sometime before she'd scribbled on that day with green pencil, but that was okay. She could still see the lavender.
DeaR DiaRY
mY ReL name iS emaLee BUT iTS a SeCReT
Emily paused and chewed on her lower lip again. She wasn't quite sure if she'd gotten all of that right. Especially the real part. She was pretty sure there was supposed to be another letter. But that was okay; she knew she'd gotten secret right, she'd made sure she knew it by heart.
And even Mommy knew, even if she never said it out loud. Secrets were more important than what was real.
