| Shelley ( @ 2006-07-17 10:28:00 |
| Current mood: | nervous |
Drabble: Conversation on West Thirty-fifth Street, Not Far From the Hudson River
Just found this community. Love Archie beyond measure, and Wolfe of course, too. (Enough to name pets after them.)
Here is a drabble I wrote a little while ago. 100 words, with a title longer than the fic, I think. I hope you enjoy!
“Flummery.” Wolfe leaned back in the only chair into which he truly fit.
“Pure truth.”
“You fascinate that woman.”
“No longer. She’s like that book you read before lunch, ‘la belle Dame sans merci.’”
“Keats,” he muttered. “Overwrought piffle.”
“Be that as it may, Miss Rowan is definitely getting married, and not to me.” I rifled through the plant reports. After a moment Wolfe cleared his throat politely, his expression of deepest sympathy. I looked up.
“You would not be able to change her mind?”
Since it concerned women, Wolfe would believe the lie. “No,” I said. “I wouldn’t.”
nervous