ShopDreamUp AI ArtDreamUp
Deviation Actions
Suggested Deviants
Suggested Collections
You Might Like…
Description
"Did you hear that?"
Jack had been reading aloud from one of Mr. Kings new novels and had been getting rather into it. He had even begun doing the voices, which Anouk seemed to like, judging from the satisfied cat-like smile and the soft sighs that settled pleasantly on his neck.
He marked the word (it happened to be Shirring, doesn't it just roll off the tounge?) he was on and turned his head, as much as he could towards the girl nestled comfortably but incoveniently on his collarbone.
"Hear what?"
He heard her shift agitatedly, making his bed clothes rustle and whisper.
"That."
Jack resisted rolling his eyes and carefully creased the corner of the page he had marked and gently closed the book. Usually he wouldnt dream of treating a book, even a "charity shop tome" as Ali called them, in such a way but he had no bookmark.
No bookmark! Really, Jackie!
His Grandmama would have pitched a fit. She had ingrained in him a deep respect of books, it was almost part of his make-up now. Never bend the spine of a book, never leave a book around where it can be ruined, never dog-ear a book. Grandmama would clip him round the ear if he forgot these rules, these veritable commandments and would give him a good telling off
I would've thought better of you, what have I always told you
and while the clip didn't hurt that much (he had had worse) it was the disapointed look on her lovely face that would sting most.
While he had been mourning the book, Anouk was up, up and attem! She was stood still, in the middle of the hardwood floor but her usually dreamy eyes were quite awake and her fingers twitched beneath the sleeves of her
my jumper, it's mine. She's wearing my
jumper. She was like a spaniel, who's spotted a game bird. Ready but waiting.
Though for what, Jack hadn't a clue.
"What is it 'Nook?" He lay the book on his pillow, softly safe, got up and stood beside her. He was quite quiet. Perhaps he would hear it, though Anouk oftened heard things no-one else did.
She had been the only one to find the child, the little girl-child of a fostering family, the boisterous couple who were too busy talking to the boss to notice their baby toddling off. Anouk had grasped his hand and told him
she's hiding, it's dark and hot and she's hiding and she's scared Jack, she's
she was in the boiler cupboard. Ali had left it open and the babe thought she saw a toy in there, though it was actually the mop. The girl-child was cuddling it when Anouk pulled her out, Jack had to pry it out of her small starfish shaped hands before handing the girl back to her deflated and thankful parents. They thanked Jack profusely and the baby even gave him a sloppy kiss on his cheek before waving buh-bye!
Anouk had simply stood to the side and stared, quite hungrily at them all. She was given no thanks, just a pitying glance at the pale child with dark shadows under her equally dark eyes.
She heard things, and saw things no one else did.
I hate the way I look
"Jack, you really can't hear it? Really?"
She was looking at him now, genuinely baffled. He began to lift a shoulder in a shrug, thought better and nodded. Her face cleared and mirrored him, curtly nodding and linking hands with him. He quickly wondered their slightness , those diminutive fingers , trapped in his clumsy palm before she dropped to her knees, yanking him to the floor and almost slamming his forehead into the old, black radiator before them. Jack had always hated it, it was perfectly positioned to grin blackly at him as the boy went to bed and now it got to wound him? Hell no.
Anouk had her ear to the thing, gazing through Jack into that other world she often gazed into. Her eyes flickered moemntarily to him, then to the radiator and back to her
indergrund
other world. Jack took that as; listen to the damn thing and stop humanising the furniture. It wont bite
He slowly rested his ear against the grinning metal. It was hot, not scorching but he still hovered over it rather than pushing her entire face against it as Anouk did.
They both knelt there, Jack waiting, Anouk listening, for quite a while before Anouk pulled back from the radiator with a great smile (and several red marks where she has smothered the radiator) on her face. The face was almost comical apart from the tension that filled the room. Jack still held his head over the black thing, waiting for the ephipany to hit, if it ever would but was watching her.
Her face was blank, as expressionless as the moon but her eyes were bright. Not scared or watchful but alive.
He could barely breathe and that was when he heard it.
Through the pipes he could hear it, hissing, hissing it must be, just air through the pipes he was sure. But then the hissing was refined somehow and was so different, almost
singing
Yes, that was it, it was singing, definitely singing but how could there be
It even sounded human, he could hear the difference in tones and pitch and it sounded a little like
"You can hear it." There was a smile in her voice and sure enough, when he turned to look at her, that slow, sure smile of cat-like satisfaction was there. She softly stroked the radiator, trailing her fingers along its ribs, like a musician playing a xylaphone. Accompianing the voice in the pipes.
"What is it?" He needed to know, he was sprawled on the floor, listening to a radiator of all things, gazing at the most infuriating person he had ever known, he needed to know.
Her nails made the ribs ring out, clear notes that resonated out, who knows how far.
She looked at him when she said it.
"Theres a Naiad in the plumbing."
MINE
Jack had been reading aloud from one of Mr. Kings new novels and had been getting rather into it. He had even begun doing the voices, which Anouk seemed to like, judging from the satisfied cat-like smile and the soft sighs that settled pleasantly on his neck.
He marked the word (it happened to be Shirring, doesn't it just roll off the tounge?) he was on and turned his head, as much as he could towards the girl nestled comfortably but incoveniently on his collarbone.
"Hear what?"
He heard her shift agitatedly, making his bed clothes rustle and whisper.
"That."
Jack resisted rolling his eyes and carefully creased the corner of the page he had marked and gently closed the book. Usually he wouldnt dream of treating a book, even a "charity shop tome" as Ali called them, in such a way but he had no bookmark.
No bookmark! Really, Jackie!
His Grandmama would have pitched a fit. She had ingrained in him a deep respect of books, it was almost part of his make-up now. Never bend the spine of a book, never leave a book around where it can be ruined, never dog-ear a book. Grandmama would clip him round the ear if he forgot these rules, these veritable commandments and would give him a good telling off
I would've thought better of you, what have I always told you
and while the clip didn't hurt that much (he had had worse) it was the disapointed look on her lovely face that would sting most.
While he had been mourning the book, Anouk was up, up and attem! She was stood still, in the middle of the hardwood floor but her usually dreamy eyes were quite awake and her fingers twitched beneath the sleeves of her
my jumper, it's mine. She's wearing my
jumper. She was like a spaniel, who's spotted a game bird. Ready but waiting.
Though for what, Jack hadn't a clue.
"What is it 'Nook?" He lay the book on his pillow, softly safe, got up and stood beside her. He was quite quiet. Perhaps he would hear it, though Anouk oftened heard things no-one else did.
She had been the only one to find the child, the little girl-child of a fostering family, the boisterous couple who were too busy talking to the boss to notice their baby toddling off. Anouk had grasped his hand and told him
she's hiding, it's dark and hot and she's hiding and she's scared Jack, she's
she was in the boiler cupboard. Ali had left it open and the babe thought she saw a toy in there, though it was actually the mop. The girl-child was cuddling it when Anouk pulled her out, Jack had to pry it out of her small starfish shaped hands before handing the girl back to her deflated and thankful parents. They thanked Jack profusely and the baby even gave him a sloppy kiss on his cheek before waving buh-bye!
Anouk had simply stood to the side and stared, quite hungrily at them all. She was given no thanks, just a pitying glance at the pale child with dark shadows under her equally dark eyes.
She heard things, and saw things no one else did.
I hate the way I look
"Jack, you really can't hear it? Really?"
She was looking at him now, genuinely baffled. He began to lift a shoulder in a shrug, thought better and nodded. Her face cleared and mirrored him, curtly nodding and linking hands with him. He quickly wondered their slightness , those diminutive fingers , trapped in his clumsy palm before she dropped to her knees, yanking him to the floor and almost slamming his forehead into the old, black radiator before them. Jack had always hated it, it was perfectly positioned to grin blackly at him as the boy went to bed and now it got to wound him? Hell no.
Anouk had her ear to the thing, gazing through Jack into that other world she often gazed into. Her eyes flickered moemntarily to him, then to the radiator and back to her
indergrund
other world. Jack took that as; listen to the damn thing and stop humanising the furniture. It wont bite
He slowly rested his ear against the grinning metal. It was hot, not scorching but he still hovered over it rather than pushing her entire face against it as Anouk did.
They both knelt there, Jack waiting, Anouk listening, for quite a while before Anouk pulled back from the radiator with a great smile (and several red marks where she has smothered the radiator) on her face. The face was almost comical apart from the tension that filled the room. Jack still held his head over the black thing, waiting for the ephipany to hit, if it ever would but was watching her.
Her face was blank, as expressionless as the moon but her eyes were bright. Not scared or watchful but alive.
He could barely breathe and that was when he heard it.
Through the pipes he could hear it, hissing, hissing it must be, just air through the pipes he was sure. But then the hissing was refined somehow and was so different, almost
singing
Yes, that was it, it was singing, definitely singing but how could there be
It even sounded human, he could hear the difference in tones and pitch and it sounded a little like
"You can hear it." There was a smile in her voice and sure enough, when he turned to look at her, that slow, sure smile of cat-like satisfaction was there. She softly stroked the radiator, trailing her fingers along its ribs, like a musician playing a xylaphone. Accompianing the voice in the pipes.
"What is it?" He needed to know, he was sprawled on the floor, listening to a radiator of all things, gazing at the most infuriating person he had ever known, he needed to know.
Her nails made the ribs ring out, clear notes that resonated out, who knows how far.
She looked at him when she said it.
"Theres a Naiad in the plumbing."
MINE
Image size
314x577px 352.89 KB
© 2011 - 2024 anonbea
Comments30
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
actually, how old is anouk ?
x
x