Month of June: Candlelight
Okay, so, here’s the short version of my answer to “WHYTHEHELLISTHELASTCHALLENGEPOSTFORDAYTHREEWHENIT’STHE14THALREADY?”
Er, see, my computer decided that it wanted to go kaput, and apparently, I had no say in that decision.
the computer guy came an fixed it eventually, but my word did not autosave, likely the computer restore process deleted the temp file. Leaving me with only what I have posted to the internet. (BTW, I had 4-10 done before it died. Yes, I was feeling inspired and wrote a bit ahead.) So, I’m slowly working on re-writing it all, and posting two a day. Excuse me if I am unable to meet every deadline in a timely fashion, I have 8 tests this week alone, and it’s all going downhill from there.
These are shorter, but in my opinion, better written than the previous versions.
5 is going to go up soon!
4 (Mon) Candlelight
The storm from Sunday night continued to rage on into Monday, making the already despised day even more unloved.
As to be expected, there was a power outage due to the breaking of several lines that carried electricity to the north-western corner of the city, which meant that ASD did not have power, which meant that Kassen Vante was not a happy camper.
People on the street ducked under various hues of umbrellas, but the oddest pair was the couple side by side, one holding a solemn grey one that matched the sky, and the other grasping a cheery purple one, dotted with splashes of white.
“Oh come on, it’s not that bad.”
“A day of unproductiveness is a day wasted.”
Just as Aurua was about to send back a teasing retort, a stray draft of wind carried the grey umbrella upwards and away from where it was of use.
There was a stunned moment of silence, and then, tinkling laughter weaved its way through the drenched air, carrying about the impact of water.
“Looks like fate didn’t want you to add to the gloom either!”
The white haired man grumbled all the way home, both about the “accursed wind” and how he was going to have to replace the driver’s seat.
Aurua snickered privately the entire trip.
Suppressing her laughter once they reached the front door, she urged Kassen down into the basement to take a bath while taking out the small barbecue out from the cupboard.
Downstairs, the tall man patted himself on the back mentally for his ingenious foresight to have the house built on top of a natural hot spring (disregarding the fact that the reason the neighborhood was so expensive was because of this very feature, of course) and slipped in, pausing only to light the scented pools of oil. Not their intended purpose, to provide light, but they’ll have to do. The air was thick with heat, and his almost waterlogged lungs welcomed it, a pleasant contrast of the chill of rainwater.
He squinted at the ceiling, feeling the awkward way his contacts sat on his eyes, and removed them quickly, leaving them on the ledge, confident that he’ll not forget. Running a hand through his hair, he grimaced, the rain never did do anyone favors before, and he was not an exception.
Along with the grime of city dust, he washed away the irritation at being drowned by the same storm twice within a span of twenty-four hours, and walked out of the steamy room content, and in a navy blue bathrobe.
That contentment was smacked down and smothered the instant he stepped into the hallway.
The creak of the door alerted his wife to his arrival, and she beamed at him, proud of her handiwork of lighting the corridor. His eyebrow twitched once, then twice. He’d never admit it, but there was a certain eerie quality to the way the candles flicked against the walls.
“The lighting, it’s… disconcerting.”
Aurua pouted, one cheek puffed up.
“Oh come on, it’s romantic!”
I think my writing skills finally came crawling back, begging for forgiveness.