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labyfic2022-02-04 10:27 am
jalenstrix) wrote in labyfic2022-02-04 10:27 am
Entry tags:
Drabble #113: Balance
...we had a quieter response to the drabble prompt of Drabble 112, with an entry by me (your intrepid drabble proposer
jalenstrix). For this prompt, we continue with our one-word/phrase drabble roots:
Balance
Is someone feeling off-balance? Trying to keep their balance? Maybe needling someone else to get that someone else off-balance? Is it physical balance, emotional balance, magical balance, or something else entirely? Tell us all about it. Labyfic-style, of course.
Given our entries from recent months, let's continue with the suggested limit for this month of 500 words. Though remember that shorter pieces are most definitely welcome!
Your entry should take the following format, posted as a comment on this entry:
Word count: # of words
Drabble: $your_beautiful_drabble
I'll aim to get the next drabble challenge out on the first Friday of next month (March 4).
I'm also very happy to take suggestions if something in particular strikes your fancy -- comment on this post or PM me with your suggestions. You can see our current collected suggestions here.
Remember: Feedback is LOVE. So do reply to your fellow labyficcers' drabbles if so inclined. (Though be careful of concrit unless specifically okayed by the author beforehand.)
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Drabble:
Bright Fae eyes glanced enviously at my shoes.
Heh. I did enjoy my Fluevogs, with their three inch heels and faux velvet chaps of deep velvety blue. I tapped my toe, watching the girl’s eyes follow every motion.
Her eyes finally traveled upwards, stopping briefly at my very pregnant midsection and trying not to stare outrageously. Ah, youth! I’m sure she probably had a century or two on me, but it was about life experience really. And heaven knew I was far ahead in that department, being married to Jareth, having a rambunctious, irrepressible toddler son with him, and a triplet surprise en route. Of course, the girl’s surreptitious glances at my husband (who was, of course, deliciously and flamboyantly clad) left no doubt she would happily take the first of my roles at a moment’s notice. Subtle, she wasn’t.
My patience, however, had officially run out. I raised an eyebrow. “Was there something you wanted besides admiring my shoes?”
She actually jumped before regaining her composure.
The Fluevogs must have made more of a statement than I realized. Or maybe it was Jareth lounging next to me, languidly displaying his thoroughly distracting self, from sunbright hair to lean crossed legs to glittering Fluevog-shod pointed toes. Naaaah.
The girl took a breath and raised her eyes carefully to my chin, not turning her gaze one iota towards Jareth. “My mother, the Empress of the Chaotic Marshes, the Conqueror of the Mountains of Flame, the Marchioness of the Drag—“
Jareth cut her off. “Yes, my dear, we know Althea. What was the message?”
The girl’s mouth clamped shut and her lips twitched.
My velvet-clad foot tapped pointedly again.
She swallowed. “She wants to participate in the baby shower.”
“You mean she wants to know why she wasn’t invited.”
“Uh-“
“It’s because there is no baby shower planned.”
Both her eyebrows jumped. “What?”
I tried not to roll my eyes. “No. Baby. Shower.”
“What do you mean, no baby shower?”
Jareth chimed in, his voice rife with a sardonic bite. “I don’t think smaller words are available to convey the intended meaning.”
She chewed on this for a moment. “It’s simply not done. You have to have a baby shower, especially for three new babies at once!”
I smiled, trading a knowing look with Jareth. “Not done! Can you imagine? Us?”
“Inconceivable, my love.”
Her eyes darkened. “You’re mocking me. I won’t stand for it.”
Jareth smiled down at her. “You’re quite welcome to see yourself out, my dear. Give our regards to Althea.”
She froze for a moment, then turned sharply and marched out of the room.
I exhaled and sat down next to Jareth. “Ah, youth. So touchy.”
His glittering toe tapped mine. “Inconceivable.”
“I don’t think that word means what you think it means.”
“When I use a word, it means just what I choose it to mean.”
I laughed softly. “Thank you, Humpty Dumpty.”
“At your service, my love.”
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