A/N: I have no idea where this is going. ;bangs head on keyboard; I!
Need! Inspiration! Anyway, I'm tired of shaving my legs. I'm going to move
to Italy and be hairy =P
Disclaimer: Rhyme is mine. The Newsies are not. I think we all know this by now.
-----*-*-*-----
Me, I'm A Thief
Chapter 1
------*------
Conlon was giving me the eye this morning. Making sure I was selling. He might act tougher than anything, but he keeps a watch out for all his newsies. He walked with me as I sold today. I don't know why he's suddenly interested in me. But I liked it. I liked the attention. It was like spring.
We were silent as we walked. The sea salt lingered in the air and combed into our hair as the ocean side docks neared. The breeze smelled fishy, but in a raw, earthy way. Not like the offensive stench of the little fish stalls in the market. Those fish have probably been lying there, all glass eyed, for days. I can relate sometimes.
I sat on the edge of a creaking wooden dock, kicking my shoes and socks off. Little sprays of warm water splashed my light blue dress. I felt like summer inside. Spot stood next to me, hands in pockets, like we were a married couple and he was taking me for an enjoyable day by the sea. If I was brazen enough, I would rest my head against his leg.
Spot stared out into the distance. His eyes reflecting the rhythmic waves. White gulls were tiny dots in the fresh sky, their brash calls fading into the linen sky. I felt something then. It was like putting on a warm cardigan after you've been out in the cool wind all day.
I wanted to say something, anything, just to make him stay. But he turned, and left. Just like a ghost. But a ghost made of something real. He didn't turn back and look at me. The gaiety of the pervious moments was gone. It left with him. The water seemed colder, the air a bit heavier and the gulls sounded ridiculous. I was just a shell again.
----*----
My parents aren't dead. They live in Washington. I haven't got a deep, hidden past I'm running from. Nor do I have any hidden secrets, emotionless eyes, amazing beauty or extraordinary talents. I'm just a girl. With nothing but a few cents and my pride. Nothing but a poor girl selling papers.
My name is Rhyme. Why? For my love of poetry. Simple as that. I joined the Brooklyn Newsies a few years back, too long ago for me to really remember. I'm part of the scenery now. I'm nothing overly special to look at. Rather pale, blue eyed, sun streaked hair. Most of the girls around here look similar. Spot once told me he liked the way I looked in winter.
'Lit. Know what I mean? Kind of light inside.' He had said.
Spot and I have nothing together. I mean, we're not a couple. He hardly notices me to tell the honest truth. Yesterday was.. just yesterday. Just a moment that could have been something else.
I felt something then. And Jack Kelly hadn't been on my mind. Then when I returned to the ground, he was back again. Haunting my thoughts. I used to have dreams at night about him; we would be sailing in a white sailed ship, floating over calm waters. Then I'd wake up embarrassed, as though he was there, seeing my dreams. I would feel odd all day. Heart and Reason would give me suspicious looks, suspecting I made some guy's lucky day. I'd try to act normal the rest of the day, but this squelching feeling kept appearing in my stomach.
I saw Kelly's girlfriend once. Sarah I think her name is. She was pretty. Sweet. Innocent. The things I'm not. If I didn't hate her, I would probably be her friend.
Funny how these things are.
Disclaimer: Rhyme is mine. The Newsies are not. I think we all know this by now.
-----*-*-*-----
Me, I'm A Thief
Chapter 1
------*------
Conlon was giving me the eye this morning. Making sure I was selling. He might act tougher than anything, but he keeps a watch out for all his newsies. He walked with me as I sold today. I don't know why he's suddenly interested in me. But I liked it. I liked the attention. It was like spring.
We were silent as we walked. The sea salt lingered in the air and combed into our hair as the ocean side docks neared. The breeze smelled fishy, but in a raw, earthy way. Not like the offensive stench of the little fish stalls in the market. Those fish have probably been lying there, all glass eyed, for days. I can relate sometimes.
I sat on the edge of a creaking wooden dock, kicking my shoes and socks off. Little sprays of warm water splashed my light blue dress. I felt like summer inside. Spot stood next to me, hands in pockets, like we were a married couple and he was taking me for an enjoyable day by the sea. If I was brazen enough, I would rest my head against his leg.
Spot stared out into the distance. His eyes reflecting the rhythmic waves. White gulls were tiny dots in the fresh sky, their brash calls fading into the linen sky. I felt something then. It was like putting on a warm cardigan after you've been out in the cool wind all day.
I wanted to say something, anything, just to make him stay. But he turned, and left. Just like a ghost. But a ghost made of something real. He didn't turn back and look at me. The gaiety of the pervious moments was gone. It left with him. The water seemed colder, the air a bit heavier and the gulls sounded ridiculous. I was just a shell again.
----*----
My parents aren't dead. They live in Washington. I haven't got a deep, hidden past I'm running from. Nor do I have any hidden secrets, emotionless eyes, amazing beauty or extraordinary talents. I'm just a girl. With nothing but a few cents and my pride. Nothing but a poor girl selling papers.
My name is Rhyme. Why? For my love of poetry. Simple as that. I joined the Brooklyn Newsies a few years back, too long ago for me to really remember. I'm part of the scenery now. I'm nothing overly special to look at. Rather pale, blue eyed, sun streaked hair. Most of the girls around here look similar. Spot once told me he liked the way I looked in winter.
'Lit. Know what I mean? Kind of light inside.' He had said.
Spot and I have nothing together. I mean, we're not a couple. He hardly notices me to tell the honest truth. Yesterday was.. just yesterday. Just a moment that could have been something else.
I felt something then. And Jack Kelly hadn't been on my mind. Then when I returned to the ground, he was back again. Haunting my thoughts. I used to have dreams at night about him; we would be sailing in a white sailed ship, floating over calm waters. Then I'd wake up embarrassed, as though he was there, seeing my dreams. I would feel odd all day. Heart and Reason would give me suspicious looks, suspecting I made some guy's lucky day. I'd try to act normal the rest of the day, but this squelching feeling kept appearing in my stomach.
I saw Kelly's girlfriend once. Sarah I think her name is. She was pretty. Sweet. Innocent. The things I'm not. If I didn't hate her, I would probably be her friend.
Funny how these things are.