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One Harry Potter ficlet and one original ficlet.
lion dance, Harry Potter, Gryffindors, Written for the threesentenceficathon prompt 'any, any, lion dance'. 57 words.
It starts like swaying, as most of the common room sings – shouts, really – in celebration. But Angelica, Alicia and Katie are next to each other, arms around each other, and they couldn’t tell you who started it, a step forward, a step back. When the lionesses who helped Gryffindor to this victory start dancing, the pride follows.
Grey, Original fiction, OFC, past OMC/OFC, Victorianish setting. Written for the threesentenceficathon prompt 'Any, any, grey' 101 words.
It is six months to the day that she puts aside full mourning and the heavy blacks for grey, like rained-on slate. The household knew it was coming, because she had discussed it with Smith at the start of the week, and no doubt her lady’s maid spread the word, but it surprises her first visitor and she knows the news will fly around the neighbourhood. It hardly matters, six months more, through lighter greys and lilacs, and she will put on her old clothes again, and, she fully intends, remove the gold band, and leave his house and this pretence.
And that, I think, is it for this year.
lion dance, Harry Potter, Gryffindors, Written for the threesentenceficathon prompt 'any, any, lion dance'. 57 words.
It starts like swaying, as most of the common room sings – shouts, really – in celebration. But Angelica, Alicia and Katie are next to each other, arms around each other, and they couldn’t tell you who started it, a step forward, a step back. When the lionesses who helped Gryffindor to this victory start dancing, the pride follows.
Grey, Original fiction, OFC, past OMC/OFC, Victorianish setting. Written for the threesentenceficathon prompt 'Any, any, grey' 101 words.
It is six months to the day that she puts aside full mourning and the heavy blacks for grey, like rained-on slate. The household knew it was coming, because she had discussed it with Smith at the start of the week, and no doubt her lady’s maid spread the word, but it surprises her first visitor and she knows the news will fly around the neighbourhood. It hardly matters, six months more, through lighter greys and lilacs, and she will put on her old clothes again, and, she fully intends, remove the gold band, and leave his house and this pretence.
And that, I think, is it for this year.