Author: J.C. Rocket
Title: My Favorite Cousin
Other: Thanks reviewers!
My Favorite Cousin
A sunny day. A wide smile.
You thrust a card into my face.
It says "TOo mY favRitt cuZiN"in nearly unreadable handwriting.
I roll my eyes and open the card with a smirk on my lips.
"HapPe bUrrthdAe MeRry. i LoV YoO."
"I made it just for you! Do ya like it?" you ask.
"It's very nice," I say.
The only present on my birthday when no one remembered. But it was enough.
~
Weak and tortured, I awake with bruises all over.
The ride is bumpy over this thing's shoulder. What is it called again?
I can't remember right now. But I hate it.
I see you in front of me; you're also being carried on one of those things.
Your eyes open though they are red from lack of sleep.
"Merry?" you call through the rumbling of feet and yelling.
"What?" I ask through parched lips.
"I'm hungry." Sometimes you don't say the right thing at the right time.
"Not now," I say. The thought of food makes my stomach churn. We'd only had nasty Orc-- now I remember-- draught and it was foul enough to burn through mithril.
"Merry?"
"What NOW?" I scream.
"Happy birthday."
~Fin~
PS~ Yes, I am lazy. I did not check to see when Merry was born. But hey, it makes good poetry. If you want to correct the date, please please please--politely tell me when his birthday is.
PPS~ Many thanks to Feasil-en-Karmor. That was a good idea; the perfect example of CONSTRUCTIVE criticism, unlike most of the other reviewers out there. Yes, I agree-- DOWN WITH SLASH! Once again, thanks!
PPPS~ PIPPIN!! YAY!
Title: My Favorite Cousin
Other: Thanks reviewers!
My Favorite Cousin
A sunny day. A wide smile.
You thrust a card into my face.
It says "TOo mY favRitt cuZiN"in nearly unreadable handwriting.
I roll my eyes and open the card with a smirk on my lips.
"HapPe bUrrthdAe MeRry. i LoV YoO."
"I made it just for you! Do ya like it?" you ask.
"It's very nice," I say.
The only present on my birthday when no one remembered. But it was enough.
~
Weak and tortured, I awake with bruises all over.
The ride is bumpy over this thing's shoulder. What is it called again?
I can't remember right now. But I hate it.
I see you in front of me; you're also being carried on one of those things.
Your eyes open though they are red from lack of sleep.
"Merry?" you call through the rumbling of feet and yelling.
"What?" I ask through parched lips.
"I'm hungry." Sometimes you don't say the right thing at the right time.
"Not now," I say. The thought of food makes my stomach churn. We'd only had nasty Orc-- now I remember-- draught and it was foul enough to burn through mithril.
"Merry?"
"What NOW?" I scream.
"Happy birthday."
~Fin~
PS~ Yes, I am lazy. I did not check to see when Merry was born. But hey, it makes good poetry. If you want to correct the date, please please please--politely tell me when his birthday is.
PPS~ Many thanks to Feasil-en-Karmor. That was a good idea; the perfect example of CONSTRUCTIVE criticism, unlike most of the other reviewers out there. Yes, I agree-- DOWN WITH SLASH! Once again, thanks!
PPPS~ PIPPIN!! YAY!