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angrydurf

Phantoms Vignette - New Years 2010

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The penthouse had always had more room than they'd needed. Even with one room serving as the bedroom, there was plenty of space for Jack's office and Taylor's library with more to spare. The room that Taylor had currently opened had mostly been used for storage. The furniture from Taylor's sparse apartment had been hastily stacked in one corner. Boxes of old text books were shoved up against them along with a little bit of extraneous clutter that always came out during any move. In addition, there were the few things of Jack's that had been misplaced or replaced by her permanent arrival into his home. It had been a gradual thing, really. They'd never sat down and talked about it. One night had just turned into three, then five, then forever somewhere along the line. And slowly, this room had filled up with the things that didn't fit into a newly shared life.

 

Shutting the door behind her with a quiet click, Taylor stepped into the room on bare feet. With her dark hair pulled up into a tight pony tail and dressed in ripped jeans and a tank top, she'd dressed for a hands on cleaning that didn't really match the actuality. She moved through the room, moving things back and forth with crackling eldritch energy.

 

Keep. Donate. Donate. Ask Jack. Keep.

 

Eventually, everything that had to be donated had vanished into her pocket, and the things to keep or question had all been shoved out in the hallway and Taylor was left in a pleasant if empty room. Like many of the rooms of the apartment, the few windows had thick drapes blocking the sun. Eventually those would have to be replaced but for now, Taylor spent the few minutes wrestling them all down to the ground and shoved them out in the hallway as well.

 

It wasn't as mindless a task as Taylor had hoped it would be. It certainly allowed her thoughts to wander and considering she was working on clearing the spare room for a new and rather unexpected occupant, it was inevitable what direction her thoughts would take.

 

Like marriage, children were something Taylor assumed were off her plate after accepting her duties as the Chosen of Heshem. In the act of ripping the drape off the wall, Taylor paused to stifle a snort of self-mocking laughter. At least the addage of 'plans in the face of the gods' held true. Taylor wondered if Heshem was in stitches at her Chosen. It was an image she had trouble forming.

 

With a thump the heavy velvet floated to the ground and with a flick of her wrist, Taylor sent it floating out to the hallway with the rest of the 'things to get moved'. She rested her fingertips on her hips and frowned at the bare four walls and floor.

 

She couldn't picture the room as a nursery. She couldn't picture herself as anyone's mother. She was still getting used to the whole 'being someone's wife' part. There was still graduation in the spring. Technically, she hadn't even finished college yet.

 

Ruthlessly, Taylor suppressed the rising tide of hysteria.

 

Cream. She would paint the walls cream and then decide on the carpet. Even if it was all too big to tackle at once. She could do one little thing, and then another. No, it wasn't going to be *normal*, but they'd manage it all somehow. She could deal with it, and she would.

 

One step at a time.

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