Evening with Poetsrouteinfo:
From: Bob Vance
To: Victor Thorneton, Editor, Metropolis magazine
Subj: Interview with R. Emerson and H. Thoreau
Datetime: August 7, 1840; 10:47 PM Pacific time
Note: The following is an interview I conducted with our resident poets, Mr. Emerson and Mr. Thoreau. Seeing as our magazine is directed towards the middle-to-upper class city segment, I thought our readers would find it interesting to see the direction our country's intellectuals are going. The results I have found are both interesting and a little chilling. See the attached transcript of our interview.
*CLICK* [tape recorder hiss]
I have just arrived at the restaurant, Joe's Diner, in preparation for my interview with Mr. Thoreau and Mr. Emerson. The date is August 7, the time is 5:58 PM, and here comes Mr. Emerson.
[Background noise: restaurant activity. Conversations can be heard in the background, waiters moving around
DaddyWhen Vanellope asked Ralph through Sour Bill to meet her at Diet Cola Mountain, he didn’t ask questions. Having grown used to the princess-turned-president’s antics, he had just shrugged, sighed, thanked the grumpy little ball of candy for delivering the message, and headed on out to find his friend.
He also made sure to grab one of the Oreo guard’s spears as he left, for if Vanellope’s ‘surprise’ was anything like the last time she had asked him to show up somewhere without planning it before hand, he was going to need it. She was a good kid, she really was, but she just didn’t seem to completely understand how trying to outrun a stampede of furious unicandycorns wasn’t fun.
By the time he reached the mountain and saw her waving at him from between the two sugar free lollipops, though, Ralph wasn’t quite so sure Van’s plan involved some sort of mayhem. She was normally in her kart by now, screaming at him to jump on as the av
EndAlthough none of them had aged a single day, deep in their code, all the characters at Litwak’s Family Center knew that they were very, very old. For the past seventy years, they had been working day after day to keep children and adults alike entertained, and for most, that was a record to be proud of.
Their only collective regret was that it was all finally coming to an end, for the original Litwak’s son had decided to sell the building and recycle the last few games that were his father’s legacy.
“Tamora,” Felix said softly, his voice gentle as he tried to coax her from her sleep. For a minute, when no answer was given, when she remained quiet and still, he was tempted to allow her to sleep, to spare her the fate that they all knew was coming. This thought was quickly tossed away a moment later, for he knew well enough by now that if he tried to pull something like that, she would never forgive him.
He never would have forgiven himself if he had tried t
A Doctor Lost, A Doctor Found 09The night air was crisp and cool, and the countryside wind pulled and twisted at his tweed jacket like grabby, childish hands. The Doctor turned his sonic screwdriver over in his long fingers, trying to gather the courage to turn from the TARDIS and face whatever he had to do.
"Doctor," the thing murmured from behind him, and suddenly it wasn't the resounding, sharp tone he'd expected, but he heard Rose. Rose's voice. It finally kicked into him the will to turn towards the highway. Rose was there, looking terrible and beautiful and solemn like he'd only seen her once. She shouldn't be there. It wasn't her. Yet … his stomach couldn't help but give a happy twist, and all he wanted to do was pull her into a familiar hug. The circumstances and his confusion forced him into cumbersomeness, however.
"Yes, hello," he murmured, and felt it was the entirely wrong thing to say. He'd imagined this moment far more often than he'd have liked to admit, but it usually involved himself having m
Better Late Than NeverSummary: A Harry Potter one-shot. Two months after Christmas, Ron confronts Percy about a missing present. Somehow this evolves into a fight more than twenty years in the making, with some unexpected confessions and bonding over past mistakes. Can be read alone or as a companion to "Odd One Out" and "Five Times That the Weasleys Missed Percy."
Percy was sitting at the kitchen table in the Burrow, reading a book, when Ron approached him with his arms crossed over his chest.
"Ah, Ron," he said without looking up. "Nice to see you. I was actually just looking at your gift from Christmas."
Ron's eyes twitched down to the tome, then back up to his brother. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about, actually."
"This book? Have you read it already?"
"I meant Christmas presents." Ron suddenly frowned. "Waitwas that a joke?"
Percy's eyes stayed on the book, but his lips curled into a small smile. "Yes. That charming son of yours seems to be rubbing off on me."
Ron's scowl d
Bow Out 2Walking down the tunnel that would take him back to his game with his head held high, his hand clutching the now empty bag that he had borrowed from one of the Nicelanders, and his hat pushed upwards so that he could see the world around him, it was the work of a moment for Fix-It Felix to realize that, eventually, he would be okay.
So long as Tamora was happy, despite the ache in his chest that refused to go away, he would survive.
The players, of course, would be easy to fool. Fake a grin, pretend to taste the random pies that his job forced him to eat, and pretend to care about the medal that would be hung around his neck each time that he won. Continue on fixing the messes that Ralph caused with each new round, and so long as he could force himself to remain focused, there would be no need to worry. For the player, the children that had kept his game alive for the last thirty years, nothing would ever change. Of that, Felix would make sure. He owned them that much, and he always pa
Doctor Who - CompanionCompanion
Okay, maybe it was on that rooftop where it first occurred to him, a little seed in the very back of his mind, some subconscious whim that made him turn around, open that door back up, and introduce himself.
"I'm the Doctor, by the way. What's your name?"
The Doctor. It wasn't much to go on, but if she wanted to search him out, track him down, it was one of the best leads he could give her.
Maybe it passed through his head for just a nanosecond when he saw her face on the other side of that cat door, knowing what a rare beast real coincidence was.
But not really. Not willingly, not consciously. The war, still so fresh to him though it was such a long way and a long time from this place, had changed him. He was such a different kind of Time Lord than he had been. And what kind that was, it was clear, was alone. When she pulled open her door and stared at him like he had a third eye instead of just a second heart, he was still convinced that this time, he would stay alon
ForgivenessPercy Weasley was in a dark place.
Realistically, all he had to do was turn on his bedside lamp and his room would fill with light. But it wasn’t the physical realm that concerned him.
His mind was in a dark place. His very soul was shrouded in black, cloaked in despair, sheathed in the bleak absence of hope.
He hadn’t spoken to Audrey in nine months. Who knew if she was even waiting for him? He certainly didn’t. It had been even longer since he’d spoken with his family. His last attempt at that had earned him a smart slap on the cheek and a resounding chewing out courtesy of his sister. The worst part about that last meeting was that he knew that he had absolutely deserved it and more.
Life at the Ministry was hellacious. Editing those anti-Muggle pamphlets was killing a part of him, but it had come down to killing a part of himself or killing all of himself, and he wasn’t yet gone enough to want death.
For the moment, Percy was conten
Thirty-SevenKnocking on the door before, him, Felix could not help but chuckle as he realized that, ever since Miss Calhoun had moved into Apartment B-16, he had come to visit her exactly thirty-seven times.
Not that he could actually blame the poor woman, for the building itself had been built in the early seventies, using the best of the best for its time, and had not been fully upgraded since then. He had been able to do patch up jobs over the years that he had worked there, replacing pipes and electrical wires with newer, more modern versions as the old gave way, but there still always seemed to be something to fix. A lucky strike for him, who had been kept fully employed by this one building for the last seven years, but an inconvenience for the folk who lived there full time and did not have his ability to fix almost everything he touched. Had it been up to him, he would have destroyed the entire building long ago and have rebuilt it from the ground up, thus, in the long run, saving everyone
Bow Out 3Standing in his doorway, her arms crossed, eyes narrowed into enraged slits, and still wearing her gore-encrusted armor, weapons included, was the most beautiful and terrifying sight that Felix had ever seen in his thirty-three years of life: his very angry wife.
“Tamora,” Felix yelped as he tumbled from the bed, his head smacking the edge of the table as he fell. Shooting back up, shaking himself in an attempt to get rid of the pain, it was with wide eyes that he focused on the one woman that he never again thought he would see, one that was now standing in the doorway as she gave him the worse glare that she could muster. “Wha-what are you doing here?”
“I’m here,” Tamora Calhoun said in a deadly whisper that he could just barely hear, “because a coward wouldn’t tell me to my face that he wanted out.” Uncrossing her arms, Tamora raised her hand to show that she was holding a stack of papers, the edges wrinkled and torn to sho
Come back It was still dark outside, and there wasn't any noise which could disturb the silence of the cold morning. But despite this, there was someone who wasn't sleeping, someone who, in fact, hadn't slept at all in the whole night. A tall figure could be seen lying still on his wooden bed, his blue eyes wide open, dark rings under them. The boy sat up and messed up his red hair, frustrated, gazing out of the window. Shell Cottage had a beautiful, quiet landscape, which made him feel even guiltier, if that was possible. There had been many weeks already, and he still didn't know how to come back. He bit his lip and punched the pillow, feeling angrier at himself as the minutes passed. Memories of the last few days wandered in his mind like an old movie; the Snatchers, Bill's disappointed, but always supportive look, Fleur's quiet understanding His own words, full of rage, and Harry's expression when he left was just He had betrayed his best
Mindelan Needs a Keeper“Do you think he’ll be angry?”
Domitan of Masbolle rode loftily towards the gates of Corus among a slow-moving traffic current. Fall had arrived and everybody who wanted to reach their destinations before winter set in decided now might be a good time to start migrating. Beside him, rode
Keladry of Mindelan on her infamous horse, Peachblossom. Riding on Peachblossom’s mane was a band of sparrows, preening themselves as they bided their time. Dom grinned without looking at his female companion. “Meathead? Nah. Not at us really.”
Kel snorted. “Just at the fact we didn’t tell him.”
“He’ll be more upset about that than anything.”
Dom listened to Kel’s sigh. “Don’t worry about it.” He told her kindly, “This is Sir Meathead we’re talking about remember?”
Kel absently scratched a sparrow’s chest, “Exactly. It’s not his anger I’m worried about. He’s ju
Reunion“So, Fix-It, tell me again why it is we’re going to your ten year reunion two years late?”
Glaring at the face that glowered back from the mirror, Tamora could not help the almost whining question as she tried, once again, to tame her hair. Running her brush through it for what must have been the tenth time in the last few minutes, she bit back a groan as it flopped back over her eyes, her bangs refusing to leave their normal duty of covering her face. Normally, if she had a bit a time and some bobby pins, she could beat it into something seemingly decent, at least something that would be appropriate for this kind of event. Time she had had enough of, for ever since Felix had received the invitation almost a week and a half ago, the reunion had been the only thing he had talked about, regaling her with tales of the friends he had made and how much fun he had had during those four years. However, ever since a certain racing-obsessed nine-year-old had entered the