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In your high strange voice, your feet scuffing along the pavement
I have been spending time with my niece, who is currently investigating me as an anthropological or possibly zoological subject. My favorite exchange so far:
Niece: What are you doing?
Me: (paging through a J. Peterman catalogue at the dining room table, slightly bemused) Reading?
Niece: You sit like an animal!
Me: (suddenly aware of perching raptorially on the chair) I have this relationship with a lot of furniture.
Being in a phase of How to Train Your Dragon and knowing my nocturnal habits, she has categorized me as a Night Fury. I find this absurdly flattering.
Niece: What are you doing?
Me: (paging through a J. Peterman catalogue at the dining room table, slightly bemused) Reading?
Niece: You sit like an animal!
Me: (suddenly aware of perching raptorially on the chair) I have this relationship with a lot of furniture.
Being in a phase of How to Train Your Dragon and knowing my nocturnal habits, she has categorized me as a Night Fury. I find this absurdly flattering.
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It cheered me up.
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You should see if you can sneak a look at the notebook where she sketches you and records her observations.
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In the interests of honesty, I don't cough plasma bolts. (It would be handy!)
You should see if you can sneak a look at the notebook where she sketches you and records her observations.
My other favorite exchange involved her suddenly asking me, "Why don't you wear clothes?" As I was wearing clothes at the time, I blinked at her several times until she clarified, "At night!"
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That reminds me of something I saw on Twitter the other day (or today? what's time?): a parent asks a child to name their five favorite nonhuman things, and the child does, but includes Taylor Swift and Katy Perry. The parent reminds the child that Taylor Swift and Katy Perry are human, and the child says, "I guess so. But not like human human."
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And it came out of nowhere, too, which absolutely enhanced the experience.
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I don't know how to embed a gifset and it's probably cruel to, but: Jeremy Brett.
He’s still sulking but much happier since we turned his jar away from the television set (Playoff hockey is too much for him.)
Did he get emotionally involved?!
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I still haven't managed to take her to the sea, but she is an excellent niece.
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She also comes up to me and purrs for attention.
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I really like her!
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That is utterly delightful. *^^*
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It's a very catlike design!
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The Night Furies should be proud to have you.
Your niece is an absolute joy.
Nine
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Aw!
Your niece is an absolute joy.
I am exhausted at the end of the day, but I think so.
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As I understand it, they went bankrupt, were bought out, and then the company that had bought them also went bankrupt and John Peterman was able to buy his company back. I believe he's still involved, as well as at least one of his children. I can't afford more than looking at most of their clothes, but I have a couple of pieces that serve me very well.
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Thank you! I am, too. It requires frequent testing. This country is a pain in the face.
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She is a wonderful niece.
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A very catlike one.
Re: Nocturne
- Edgar Allan Poe
Re: Feet scuffing along the pavement
Your post title reminds me of a story I read as a spratling, of which naturally I recall everything but the title or the author or where I read it - an anthology, but this sounds like it came from Weird Tales.
The viewpoint character - in effect - was that staple of the day, the blind newsstand vendor. (Pun intended.) As usual, he’d made hearing serve as a thalidomide child used his feet, i e better than you’d believe. He knew his customers by their footsteps, and knew exactly what you were doing as you stood there.
Anyway, a man comes along with a distressed exhausted pace, and greets him - why, it’s that archaeologist fellow, went off to Egypt some months ago. Yah, well, he opened the wrong tomb and released its guardian, who had begun tracking him down relentlessly. Invisible, the thing, but it walked ever towards him with a mummy’s scuffing footstep, like carpet slippers. It could smash through any obstacle; he managed to escape and fled… and it came after him at walking speed - a very slow cruise missile with unlimited range. Car, train, boat, plane, only bought time - and they cost money, which he’d run out of. He could never stop, for it never did - invisibly walking towards him. He was at the end of his tether! - and despairingly he fled, flailing down the street.
The vendor shook his head - New York is chock full o’ nuts and this guy must have spent too long in that sun! Oh, well, back to business, here came another customer… "Newspaper, mister?"
This was an odd one, though - why on earth would anyone be walking around midtown Manhattan in carpet slippers…?
There was no answer - and he didn’t speak again. He just sat quietly - oh, very quietly, listening with his trained hearing to that soft sound amid the traffic noises, that soft scuffing sound going past without slowing, patiently, relentlessly following…
Re: Feet scuffing along the pavement
That does feel like Weird Tales and makes me wonder if the writer-director of It Follows (2014) ever read it.
Re: Feet scuffing along the pavement
From what I read on IMDb, there is one substantial difference between the two: The story was good.