A/n: I have some free time, so why not write?
I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor do I own 'A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief'. Let's say Gaston Leroux owns Phantom, but I cannot tell who owns the song. I found it in my (LDS) Hymnbook.
As last time:
// = italics and thoughts
^^ = italics within thoughts
}{ = sung
And, like last time, this chapter shall be rather short (Sorry).
~
Chapter Eight: No title as of yet, ideas appreciated.
Emily had taken a second job cleaning at the Opera. She left Emma with her cousin, Mary.
Suddenly a tune from a song her Mother used to sing came into her head while she scrubbed the floor.
"} A poor wayfaring Man of grief Hath often crossed me on
My way,
Who sued so humbly for relief that I could never answer nay.
I had not pow'r to ask his name, Whereto he went, or whence he came;
Yet there was something in his eye that won my love;
I knew not why.
"} Once, when my scanty meal was spread, He entered not a word
He spake,
Just perishing for want of bread. I gave him all; he blessed it break
And ate, but gave me part again. Mine was an angel's potion then,
For while I fed with eager haste,
The crust was manna to my taste.
"} I spied him where a fountain burst Clear from the rock; his strength
Was gone.
The heedless water mocked his thirst; He heard it, saw it hurrying on.
I ran and raised the suff'rer up; Thrice from the stream he drained my cup,
Dipped and returned it running o'er;
I drank and never thirsted more.{"
Emily stood, and looked at the floor. She nodded in satisfaction. She looked at the nearest clock. It was time to go to rehearsal now.
*
"Mademoiselle!"
Emily heard a light tenor's male voice calling for someone. She kept walking. If she didn't pick her up soon, Emma would be very angry.
"Mademoiselle!"
Emily opened the script to attempt to memorize the first few opening chorus lines.
"Mademoiselle!"
Whoever this man was calling to, Emily wished she's answer him; it was hard to memorize with that on-going call.
A hand on her shoulder.
"Mademoiselle." Said the person who had their hand on her shoulder.
Emily looked surprised at him.
"Oh...um, yes?"
"I apologize to bother you, Mademoiselle, but I heard you singing."
Emily tilted her head. How had he heard her past all the rest of the voices?
/Then again,/ Emily thought, / Reyer ^ did ^ have me sing half those lines by myself. Was it really necessary to point out all my mistakes to everyone?/
"Oh." Emily said.
"You have a beautiful voice."
Emily blinked. Did she?
The man that had stopped her had messy light blonde hair and chocolate brown eyes. His skin was lightly tanned (he must have worked outside most of the time), and he was roughly six feet tall. His eyes had an odd warm tone to them.
"Um...thank you."
"May I have your name?"
"My name? Emily. Emily Lamb."
"A pleasure. I am James O'Hara."
"Ummm...yes. Well, I must be leaving now."
"Oh. Well, may I speak with you again sometime?"
Emily was very confused. What did the man want? Why did he want to speak with her again?
"Well...yes, certainly."
"Goodbye, then."
"Yes. Goodbye."
~
Sorry, but I've run out of inspiration. I can't think of much more to add.
And, yes, I realize I stole Scarlet O'Hara's name, but I've started reading Gone With The Wind, and I couldn't find a suitable name, so I just used that one.
Please Review!
Roses,
PhantomessAbigail
I do not own The Phantom of the Opera, nor do I own 'A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief'. Let's say Gaston Leroux owns Phantom, but I cannot tell who owns the song. I found it in my (LDS) Hymnbook.
As last time:
// = italics and thoughts
^^ = italics within thoughts
}{ = sung
And, like last time, this chapter shall be rather short (Sorry).
~
Chapter Eight: No title as of yet, ideas appreciated.
Emily had taken a second job cleaning at the Opera. She left Emma with her cousin, Mary.
Suddenly a tune from a song her Mother used to sing came into her head while she scrubbed the floor.
"} A poor wayfaring Man of grief Hath often crossed me on
My way,
Who sued so humbly for relief that I could never answer nay.
I had not pow'r to ask his name, Whereto he went, or whence he came;
Yet there was something in his eye that won my love;
I knew not why.
"} Once, when my scanty meal was spread, He entered not a word
He spake,
Just perishing for want of bread. I gave him all; he blessed it break
And ate, but gave me part again. Mine was an angel's potion then,
For while I fed with eager haste,
The crust was manna to my taste.
"} I spied him where a fountain burst Clear from the rock; his strength
Was gone.
The heedless water mocked his thirst; He heard it, saw it hurrying on.
I ran and raised the suff'rer up; Thrice from the stream he drained my cup,
Dipped and returned it running o'er;
I drank and never thirsted more.{"
Emily stood, and looked at the floor. She nodded in satisfaction. She looked at the nearest clock. It was time to go to rehearsal now.
*
"Mademoiselle!"
Emily heard a light tenor's male voice calling for someone. She kept walking. If she didn't pick her up soon, Emma would be very angry.
"Mademoiselle!"
Emily opened the script to attempt to memorize the first few opening chorus lines.
"Mademoiselle!"
Whoever this man was calling to, Emily wished she's answer him; it was hard to memorize with that on-going call.
A hand on her shoulder.
"Mademoiselle." Said the person who had their hand on her shoulder.
Emily looked surprised at him.
"Oh...um, yes?"
"I apologize to bother you, Mademoiselle, but I heard you singing."
Emily tilted her head. How had he heard her past all the rest of the voices?
/Then again,/ Emily thought, / Reyer ^ did ^ have me sing half those lines by myself. Was it really necessary to point out all my mistakes to everyone?/
"Oh." Emily said.
"You have a beautiful voice."
Emily blinked. Did she?
The man that had stopped her had messy light blonde hair and chocolate brown eyes. His skin was lightly tanned (he must have worked outside most of the time), and he was roughly six feet tall. His eyes had an odd warm tone to them.
"Um...thank you."
"May I have your name?"
"My name? Emily. Emily Lamb."
"A pleasure. I am James O'Hara."
"Ummm...yes. Well, I must be leaving now."
"Oh. Well, may I speak with you again sometime?"
Emily was very confused. What did the man want? Why did he want to speak with her again?
"Well...yes, certainly."
"Goodbye, then."
"Yes. Goodbye."
~
Sorry, but I've run out of inspiration. I can't think of much more to add.
And, yes, I realize I stole Scarlet O'Hara's name, but I've started reading Gone With The Wind, and I couldn't find a suitable name, so I just used that one.
Please Review!
Roses,
PhantomessAbigail