Cellar Door
by wubwub
Ranma belongs to me not! Also, I have no cellar, nor a door for one. This is a short little fic I decided to write after sudden inspiration hit me. It's not written in my usual style, but it does herald my return to fanfic writing! Poor ff net!
Ranma stood, facing the cellar door.
"Cellar door," he said aloud, in English, testing the sound of the words on his voice.
He stood there unmoving, gazing at the door.
He contemplated the meaning behind the words. Miss Hinako had said several weeks ago that "cellar door" was "the most beautiful phrase in the English language" or some such nonsense. He'd thought nothing of it, until now.
He had been taking a step when he first caught sight of the door, and his foot now placed down in awkward position as he stood, his arms held limply at his side.
"Cellar door," he said again, questioningly, staring at the door in abject curiosity.
Beads of sweat began to appear on Ranma's skin as the hot afternoon sun shown unhindered from the sky above. He took in the details of the grain running across the wood. The rust of the metal hinges and handle. The cracks in the stone walls. He rolled the word around in his mouth quietly, trying to link the word to its meaning, trying to understand what he was missing. He stood there, wanting to unlock this mystery; to reveal the hidden beauty of the cellar door.
Cellar door. Hinge.
Cell-ar door. Hand-le.
C-ee-ll-ll-aa-rr-dd-oo-oo-rr! Dd-oo-oo-rr!
As the words and details of the door began to coalesce meaninglessly in his thoughts, as his fervent wanderings led him through circles within his own mind, his muscles finally began to protest his uninterrupted state. Becoming aware of himself, he looked away and sighed. "Cellar door," he muttered. "I don't get it."
Ranma walked away without a second glance, determined to forget about ever having heard of 'cellar doors'.