Fic a Week 37, Nano excerpt 5
Nov. 30th, 2009 12:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pauraque_bkFinishing Nano later tonight. It was... well, I guess I can post about it when I'm done. This bit is actually from my first day of writing.
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I've got a secret, said the girl on TV, a secret for softer skin, for total bathing bliss-- She looked into the camera with a conspiratorial smile, and spoke directly to Robin, who sat on the living room floor late on a weekend night, blue television light flickering over her, filling up the room. The girl tossed her curly light hair and explained how the soap was made with oatmeal, milk, and honey. It was triple-milled in a traditional French process, whatever that meant -- they may as well have been magic words. The girl lathered herself as the cameras rolled, and Robin only knew with such fire that she wanted to *be* that, and it hurt, the need of it hurt her hard.
She made sure to keep her face impassive, not to look like anything was strange. Her mother was sitting behind her on the couch, cross-legged and absent.
Robin had been in the bath and body store before, when she was little enough for her mother to take her shopping. She did not like the thick stew of essential oils from the candles, overpowering and indistinct, but she loved all the pretty little bottles with vines and flowers curling around. When she was little, she looked at them with her hands clasped behind her back, knowing not to touch.
When she went in yesterday, there were two girls in there looking at makeup. They looked like freshmen, fourteen or fifteen. They were both colt-legged, with straight blond hair and perfect black eyeliner. They might have been sisters. They looked at Robin with sidelong suspicion when she came in, and Robin tried to look as though she had never been here, getting her bearings. Carefully controlling her breath. Wondering if they could see her eyes dilate as she looked at the shelves.
The girls turned their backs on her after a moment, returning to what they had been looking at, and Robin held in a sigh of relief. Feeling like a criminal (though she had no intention of stealing), she peered up and down the soap display, all the decorated boxes. She knew which she wanted, but as she picked it up she tried to seem as though she was considering her choice -- the smallest bar, wrapped in soft white paper with rose petals.
"Do you think a girl would like this?" she asked the cashier, forcing calm. "It's my girlfriend's birthday."
"Yeah, totally," said the cashier. As she passed the soap under the bar code scanner, her nail polish glittered in the red light. "It's got oatmeal in it. It's really good for your skin."
Robin only nodded, her chest bursting with I know! I know!
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I've got a secret, said the girl on TV, a secret for softer skin, for total bathing bliss-- She looked into the camera with a conspiratorial smile, and spoke directly to Robin, who sat on the living room floor late on a weekend night, blue television light flickering over her, filling up the room. The girl tossed her curly light hair and explained how the soap was made with oatmeal, milk, and honey. It was triple-milled in a traditional French process, whatever that meant -- they may as well have been magic words. The girl lathered herself as the cameras rolled, and Robin only knew with such fire that she wanted to *be* that, and it hurt, the need of it hurt her hard.
She made sure to keep her face impassive, not to look like anything was strange. Her mother was sitting behind her on the couch, cross-legged and absent.
Robin had been in the bath and body store before, when she was little enough for her mother to take her shopping. She did not like the thick stew of essential oils from the candles, overpowering and indistinct, but she loved all the pretty little bottles with vines and flowers curling around. When she was little, she looked at them with her hands clasped behind her back, knowing not to touch.
When she went in yesterday, there were two girls in there looking at makeup. They looked like freshmen, fourteen or fifteen. They were both colt-legged, with straight blond hair and perfect black eyeliner. They might have been sisters. They looked at Robin with sidelong suspicion when she came in, and Robin tried to look as though she had never been here, getting her bearings. Carefully controlling her breath. Wondering if they could see her eyes dilate as she looked at the shelves.
The girls turned their backs on her after a moment, returning to what they had been looking at, and Robin held in a sigh of relief. Feeling like a criminal (though she had no intention of stealing), she peered up and down the soap display, all the decorated boxes. She knew which she wanted, but as she picked it up she tried to seem as though she was considering her choice -- the smallest bar, wrapped in soft white paper with rose petals.
"Do you think a girl would like this?" she asked the cashier, forcing calm. "It's my girlfriend's birthday."
"Yeah, totally," said the cashier. As she passed the soap under the bar code scanner, her nail polish glittered in the red light. "It's got oatmeal in it. It's really good for your skin."
Robin only nodded, her chest bursting with I know! I know!
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no subject
Date: 2009-12-01 01:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-02 09:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-04 12:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-04 01:41 pm (UTC)I would love to read the complete work once it's finished!
One grammatical nitpick:
She knew which she wants, but as she picked it up she tried to seem as though she was considering her choice -- the smallest bar, wrapped in soft white paper with rose petals.
She knew which she wanted, but...