#microficiton

Today at Pemberley, The 9th of November:

To celebrate Pemberley being empty of guests, Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy convinced her household to hold what she insisted on referring to as a ball. The list of invitees included only Mr. Darcy, Miss Georgiana Darcy, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy herself. 

The festivities consisted of Miss Georgiana playing the pianoforte Mr. Darcy built earlier this year. Even her exemplary skills were not able to offset the instrument’s rather unique sound quality. 

Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy led her husband in a spirited dance while Colonel Fitzwilliam served an especially potent beverage he cited as being ‘Trafalgar Punch.’

This publication has heard the recipe for Trafalgar Punch to be:

A third brandy

A third rum

A third lemonade

Prayers

Everyday Drabbles #516

The witch took my hand and led me through her garden. She brought me through a maze of twisting, thorny hedges to a still rectangular pool. “This is the Pool of Possibility. It can show you the person you would be today if you had chosen differently. Gaze into the water and see the person you might have been and could still be.” I looked down at the water. “That’s just me wearing a new hat.” “Some people possess a greater capacity for change than others,” she replied. My reflection tipped his hat. I had to admit he looked good.

Read “55 Miles to the Gas Pump,” a very short horror story by Annie Proulx

“55 Miles to the Gas Pump” by Annie Proulx Rancher Croom in handmade boots and filthy hat, that walleyed cattleman, stray hairs like the curling fiddle string ends, that warm-handed, quick-foot dancer on splintery boards or down the cellar stairs to a rack of bottles of his own strange beer, yeasty, cloudy, bursting out in garlands of foam, Rancher Croom at night galloping drunk over the dark…

Text:

The humans we met all talked big; but without suit-shells, their bodies were frail and soft.

Today At Pemberley, the 23rd of October:

The Darcy Fox Hunt rode out with Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy and Miss Georgiana Darcy among their numbers. The Bingley ladies watched from a carriage, where Mr. Hurst eventually joined them after his tenth graceless attempt to mount his horse.

The honor of first spotting a fox and calling the party’s attention with a resolute “halloo” went to Mr. Martin Fitzmartin, who proved to be an adept and focused huntsman. The creature itself was a blur of copper and deep autumn red. It must have been born quite late in the Spring, because it still had much of the clumsy smallness of a cub.

Riding close behind the hounds, Col. Fitzwilliam had an air of distraction unsuited for a lively activity like fox hunting. As the hounds chased down the fox, the Colonel’s prize hound, Prince, led the pack of twenty couples. When Prince opened his teeth to fall upon the fox, Col. Fitzwilliam called a sharp command. Ever obedient, Prince grabbed the fox not by the neck, but the scruff, holding it as one would a puppy.

The few hounds that snapped at Prince’s captive backed down after a firm growl from him. Prince brought the fox to Col. Fitzwilliam who offered the creature to Miss Caroline Bingley as a pet.

Today at Pemberley, The 5th of November--Morning Edition,

Preparations were started before dawn in anticipation of the grounds of Pemberley being thrown open for all who wish to visit this evening for Bonfire Night celebrations. The cook was running a nearly militant sweet meats production operation. 

A massive bonfire was built with a competition taking place among the local youths as to who can create the best Guy Fawkes effigy to burn. Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy will judge their efforts, picking her favorite Guy to grace the Darcy Bonfire.

This morning, Mrs. Darcy greeted her husband with a sardonic, “Penny for the Guy?” Following which he pulled her into the library and neither were seen for the rest of the morning.

Amidst the chaos, a letter arrived for Col. Fitzwilliam from his parents. Miss Caroline Bingley commented on the letter’s arrival, “I wasn’t aware you had written them.

“I wished to inform them of an urgent matter,” the Colonel told her.

She pressed on, “What matter?”

“An urgent one,” he replied, leaving the parlor to read his letter privately.

The Evening Edition will post at 2pm PST

Today at Pemberley, The 13th of December:

The household has been a flurry of activity today. Miss Georgiana Darcy returns from London tomorrow and The Gardieners are expected soon after. 

Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy has been in close conference with Pemberley’s housekeeper since breakfast. They were personally overseeing the preparation of the rooms and ensuring that every corner of the grand house has a festive glow.

Conversely, Mr. Darcy has been a gentlemanly menace. In the lulls between assisting his wife and Pemberley’s staff, Mr. Darcy turned the conversation back to the mystery of his handkerchief.

“The fabric you were working on all these days was yellow and now I am presented with a handkerchief that is green,” Mr. Darcy’s tone was accusatory although his hand was gentle as he gestured with his handkerchief.

Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy barely spared him a glance. “It matches your favorite coat,” she said. “Also you were quite insistent you were not spying on me and yet here you are presenting me with a report of your espionage.”

“When did you even have time to make this?” He asked. “I never once saw you with it.”

She grinned. “I only worked on it in my dressing room.”

Today at Pemberley, The 26th of October:

Having spent much of the last couple of days in his library, Mr. Darcy found several volumes with helpful references to the biology and habits of foxes. He wrote down the titles for Miss Caroline Bingely and recommended she peruse them at her leisure. Upon being handed the list, Miss Caroline sat in the blinking silence of one attempting to politely explain that one has no intention of reading a book.

Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy took her husband to the library, collected his recommended books, and together they made a chart of the best information available. Mr. Darcy voiced surprise at his wife’s willingness to assist Miss Caroline, with whom she so frequently disagrees.

Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy’s only response was, “I am pleased to see her allow herself to be strange and unfashionable. Perhaps, one day soon, she will even allow herself to be happy.”