Hello folks and furry things,
I don’t know ‘bout you but I love spending time with people I love. Thanksgiving used to be a real hard time for me after Nan passed. My dad and Iris were not the happiest and Iris didn’t normally make it home for dinner anyhow. Dad breezed in when he’d finished shift or mid-way through, ate and headed on back out.
In Serenity, of all places, I kinda got to likin’ it more. It wasn’t so much that we got nothin’ special to eat but we’d make the most of it. Like when Doc Llys and the girls made a Thanksgiving feast of their own. Another time, Lynn, who was a cell mate of mine way back when, stole stuff from the guard’s meal to spread out between me an’ her. Funny the holiday always makes me think of those who have given me light when I wasn’t able to see it for myself. Even Doc Gossett was always on hand to help out. Sometimes, I kinda wondered what happened with her…
Anyhow. I’m real blessed. I know that.
“Aeron, you have to press the record button for the dictation software to work.” Renee has wandered in with a plateful. I don’t know where she’s cramming it all. I ain’t seen nobody eat that much.
“Oh, you got it to work.”
“Why is it in different colors… and hey I’m in bold too.”
“Because it identifies each voice and highlights it in color for verbatim and for general direction or speech it’s in bold. It’s for briefings.” She smiling at me ’cause I’m lost… again. I don’t get CIG stuff. “Helps when I’ve glazed over to know who bored me into hypnosis.”
She’s reading what I wrote… and she’s blushing ‘cause I mentioned Susan. She still ain’t telling me about her.
“I am not blushing.”
She has her hands on her hips. Well, one hand, the other is holding the mound of food.
“It’s only my second helping.” She’s muttering to herself. “It is.”
“Why are you both talking to the computer?”
That’s Frei. She’s got a plate too. I am guessing that they’re competing about who can pop first.
“Lorelei, you had three plates and a dessert.” Frei is fixing me with that bored stare. Shame her aura is giggling.
“I don’t giggle.” Bored tone, bored expression… and a giggly aura.
“You are, I can see it.” Renee is staring at her and chuckling. She’s starting to enjoy seeing the inner Frei.
“Quit reading me, dimwit,” says Renee. I’m taking over my own narrative. Aeron tells you all far too much.
“Says you who is reading me?”
“Says Frei in a monotone voice. She is angry because she has a strand of hair out of place,” Renee says in a cultured accent.
“Cultured? Black, you have a squeaky excuse for a voice.”
“Frei folds her arms, a defensive posture revealing how she is hiding the truth.”
Just for the record, Frei’s eyes are narrowed and Renee is holding up her plate like it’s a shield.
“A shield?” Frei has raised her eyebrow. “Why are you both describing me. We’re not in a novel.”
She’s folded her arms. She don’t look very impressed.
“If we were in a novel, we’d need to be more grammatical. For a start, how do we explain Aeron’s ability to read our mood?” Renee forms a pensive posture showing her deep intellect. “No, people will think it’s a POV slip.”
“A what?” Frei has the other eyebrow raised. Sort of like eyebrow press-ups. “Did you really just describe yourself as having deep intellect?”
Now Frei is chuckling, out loud.
“Hey, I’m narrating my own speech, I can do what I like.” Renee gives a curt nod. “Ooh, I’m getting into this, I should write it down.”
“Don’t you have enough to do with protecting me?” That’s me muttering ‘cause she looks way too interested. I’ve read the kinda books she reads and slushy romances about France are not the kind of novel that fits me. What would I do with a kayak? I’d sink it for a start.
“Besides, I doubt you know the national anthem, do you?” Frei folds her arms, completely exasperated with the fact we’re all having a conversation with a computer. Why can’t we just have a normal conversation?
“Ooh, nice use of narrative distance,” says Renee, thumbing through a creative writing guide.
“Nah, she’s using adjectives… or adverbs… you know the words with ‘ly.’ Aimee always said you had to show it not tell it…” I am scratching my head ‘cause I never got it. Show what?
“You know, you’re right. No it’s better you take out the completely and just use exasperated. You don’t need the qualifier, we can see it with you vacant expression.”
“I’m not editing what I’m saying.” Frei is thinking of taking her dinner and finding someone sane to eat with… or better alone.
“Wait, you can’t say that anyway…” Renee flicks through the pages, looking every bit as gorgeous as you can picture. “That’s filtering… there’s an entire section on taking that out… ooh, this website is cool.”
“Weren’t you reading a book?” Frei picks at her plate of food, smiling smugly at Renee who was really looking at her phone and NOT a book.
Renee has poked her tongue out. I ain’t even sure if I’m in past tense or present tense but I know I’m getting kinda tense. My head hurts.
“You and me both, Lorelei.” Frei chomps on her food, not caring at all if she’s breaking guidelines or rules. They’re like locks anyway and she knows exactly what to do with those even in third person.
“Ooh, the hint of a backstory.” Renee is way too into the phone so I walk over and it buzzes. Renee sighs and pockets it ‘cause otherwise I’ll take it off her and fry it.
“Good job, Lorelei.” Frei knew she passed her in basic training for something.
I’m folding my arms.
Renee is chuckling. “You know this just makes Thanksgiving feel right.”
“How so?” I’m asking. Man, this narration thing is exhausting.
Renee smiles a warm, happy smile. “Food, warmth and bickering with the people you care about. The stuff holidays are made of.”
Renee lifted up her plate in a toast, Frei knocked hers to it and my stomach just growled so loud I swear they could feel it through the floorboards.
“You and that stomach, Lorelei,” Renee says— sounds a very familiar phrase. “You and that stomach.”
Frei rolls her eyes and walks out before this becomes anymore like primetime.
I’m chuckling. Who cares how many times she’s said it?
We, Frei, Renee and I want to wish you folks—wherever you are—a wonderful day.
“Yes, Aeron’s right. If it’s not a holiday you celebrate, then we hope that you find the nearest chocolate cake because Hindsight is now on the runway and when air traffic… or book traffic… give the green light, it will finally, have clearance to take-off,” says Renee in her rich voice.
“Hurray for book traffic.” Wait, is there such a thing?
“Who cares.” Renee is patting Aeron’s very toned stomach. “Let’s feed it before Lilia thinks Mrs. Squirrel has found the pneumatic tools.”
Ain’t arguin’ with that.
HAVE A GREAT DAY!