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section7mfuI did a challenge not too long ago that was prompted by lines from a randomly selected poem, creating half-drabbles for the fifth line of each stanza. I've decided to keep it going, further challenging myself. These are all rated gen.
Link to the original challenge and Part One: :http://mrua7.livejournal.com/16389.html
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Link to the original challenge and Part One: :http://mrua7.livejournal.com/16389.html
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Prompted by “ Sic Transit Gloris Mundi “~ Emily Dickinson
I stay mine enemy!
Illya grabbed her wrist, twisting it as she tried to slap him again. She was both surprised and shocked he’d freed himself without her knowing.
“That will do,” he said, tying her to the chair. He leaned forward, kissing her on the lips...taking cue from Napoleon’s book of tricks.
Again she was surprised and shocked.
When I am far from thee!
Napoleon slipped silently from between the softness of the silken sheets.
“Where are you going?” A feminine voice asked.
He recited a quick line of poetry, saying how forlorn he would be while they were parted. “I’ll call you when I get back Veronica, I promise.”
“My name is Gladys...”
Who first observed the moon!
Sometimes Illya Kuryakin longed to stop the carousel of life, and to get off for a brief respite. No demands put upon him, no one shooting at him; just looking at a peaceful sky sufficed.
The moon... who first called it that? A ricochet above his head, called him back.
And call your brother Mars!
Napoleon crept among the ruins of the Roman amphitheatre, following his quarry past a marble statue of Mars.
Appropriate, the god of war should be observing these night maneuvers...two foes doing battle.
“Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war,” he whispered as his bullet found its mark.
From off my father's tree!
Illya always listened, carefully taking in the sage advice of his elders. He adored his brother Dimitry, mimicking his every move. He knew Dimitry was wise and had learned everything he knew from their father. As would Illya someday.
“An acorn falls not far from the tree.” Papa said proudly.
I stay mine enemy!
Illya grabbed her wrist, twisting it as she tried to slap him again. She was both surprised and shocked he’d freed himself without her knowing.
“That will do,” he said, tying her to the chair. He leaned forward, kissing her on the lips...taking cue from Napoleon’s book of tricks.
Again she was surprised and shocked.
When I am far from thee!
Napoleon slipped silently from between the softness of the silken sheets.
“Where are you going?” A feminine voice asked.
He recited a quick line of poetry, saying how forlorn he would be while they were parted. “I’ll call you when I get back Veronica, I promise.”
“My name is Gladys...”
Who first observed the moon!
Sometimes Illya Kuryakin longed to stop the carousel of life, and to get off for a brief respite. No demands put upon him, no one shooting at him; just looking at a peaceful sky sufficed.
The moon... who first called it that? A ricochet above his head, called him back.
And call your brother Mars!
Napoleon crept among the ruins of the Roman amphitheatre, following his quarry past a marble statue of Mars.
Appropriate, the god of war should be observing these night maneuvers...two foes doing battle.
“Cry havoc and let slip the dogs of war,” he whispered as his bullet found its mark.
From off my father's tree!
Illya always listened, carefully taking in the sage advice of his elders. He adored his brother Dimitry, mimicking his every move. He knew Dimitry was wise and had learned everything he knew from their father. As would Illya someday.
“An acorn falls not far from the tree.” Papa said proudly.
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