Not sure what to blame for my lack of activity here in the last 18 months or so: global pandemic, grad student life, combination of the two + whatever other weirdnesses life has brought? ...Yeah, let's go with that.
For the first time in a long time, I felt the creative impulse last month and produced the wee thing that follows. Probably inspired by being house-bound for such a long time, as well as my work with nineteenth-century literature and culture for my degree (and the occasional modern "historical" fiction set there, just for fun).
Enjoy.
~bdf
*Updated April 28th to fix a few typos my eagle-eyed readers found!*
Adaptation
B.D. Ferguson
She opened her eyes to darkness, a hissed whisper, and a cool hand on her shoulder, shaking her.
“Miss! Miss, please wake –” Through the shadows she recognized Sophie, stepping hurriedly away from the bed. “Oh, thank goodness. I’m so sorry to wake you, miss –”
“It’s all right. What’s wrong?”
“I’m so sorry, but – Jasper said he heard something. Something downstairs, miss.”
“It’s probably not,” came an agitated whisper from the hall. “I only said I thought –”
“You did, Jasper, there’s no use denying it,” another voice said from the hall, lower and calmer, as she swung her feet to the floor. Roland was always calmer. “Apologies for disturbing you, Miss Highbury,” he added, raising his voice only slightly. “But it seemed prudent.”
She nodded, pulling on the dressing gown Sophie offered. “It’s all right, Roland.” She belted the gown with a tidy knot, noted that her hand wasn’t shaking. Good. “I assume you believe it’s a Creature, Jasper?”
Sophie whimpered and crossed herself.
“Well, miss, it sounded – we thought – in case it is, miss…”
“That I ought to meet it first. Quite right.” With Sophie at her elbow, she reached the door and looked at the two men beyond it. Jasper’s waistcoat wasn’t fully buttoned, his hair standing up in tufts on one side. Roland held a hurricane lamp aloft, the flame at the low wick lighting the faces of the gathered group and not much else of the long hallway.
“Which room, Jasper?” She kept her voice low, and he answered in kind.
“I think… it might be in one of the front rooms, miss. The parlour perhaps. Or the dining room.” His gaze darted to the darkness at the end of the hallway.
“Well. Let’s hope for the former, shall we?” she murmured, with a smile meant to lighten the mood. It had no noticeable effect, so she nodded at Roland. “A little more light, Roland, and we’ll investigate.” She turned to Jasper and Sophie as Roland adjusted the lamp. “You two might stay up here, I think.”
“Thank you, miss,” Sophie breathed, just as Jasper whispered, “But what if you need us, miss?”
“Roland has experience with Creatures, if that’s what it is, and it will want to communicate with me. We shall be fine.”
“But what if it’s not a Creature, miss?”
She blinked at him. “In that case I’ll scream, and you and Sophie should run as quickly as possible down the back stairs, through the kitchen, and outside to call the patrolman. Shall we, Roland?”
“Yes, miss.” He handed her the lamp. “After you, miss.”
Read the rest here.
For the first time in a long time, I felt the creative impulse last month and produced the wee thing that follows. Probably inspired by being house-bound for such a long time, as well as my work with nineteenth-century literature and culture for my degree (and the occasional modern "historical" fiction set there, just for fun).
Enjoy.
~bdf
*Updated April 28th to fix a few typos my eagle-eyed readers found!*
Adaptation
B.D. Ferguson
She opened her eyes to darkness, a hissed whisper, and a cool hand on her shoulder, shaking her.
“Miss! Miss, please wake –” Through the shadows she recognized Sophie, stepping hurriedly away from the bed. “Oh, thank goodness. I’m so sorry to wake you, miss –”
“It’s all right. What’s wrong?”
“I’m so sorry, but – Jasper said he heard something. Something downstairs, miss.”
“It’s probably not,” came an agitated whisper from the hall. “I only said I thought –”
“You did, Jasper, there’s no use denying it,” another voice said from the hall, lower and calmer, as she swung her feet to the floor. Roland was always calmer. “Apologies for disturbing you, Miss Highbury,” he added, raising his voice only slightly. “But it seemed prudent.”
She nodded, pulling on the dressing gown Sophie offered. “It’s all right, Roland.” She belted the gown with a tidy knot, noted that her hand wasn’t shaking. Good. “I assume you believe it’s a Creature, Jasper?”
Sophie whimpered and crossed herself.
“Well, miss, it sounded – we thought – in case it is, miss…”
“That I ought to meet it first. Quite right.” With Sophie at her elbow, she reached the door and looked at the two men beyond it. Jasper’s waistcoat wasn’t fully buttoned, his hair standing up in tufts on one side. Roland held a hurricane lamp aloft, the flame at the low wick lighting the faces of the gathered group and not much else of the long hallway.
“Which room, Jasper?” She kept her voice low, and he answered in kind.
“I think… it might be in one of the front rooms, miss. The parlour perhaps. Or the dining room.” His gaze darted to the darkness at the end of the hallway.
“Well. Let’s hope for the former, shall we?” she murmured, with a smile meant to lighten the mood. It had no noticeable effect, so she nodded at Roland. “A little more light, Roland, and we’ll investigate.” She turned to Jasper and Sophie as Roland adjusted the lamp. “You two might stay up here, I think.”
“Thank you, miss,” Sophie breathed, just as Jasper whispered, “But what if you need us, miss?”
“Roland has experience with Creatures, if that’s what it is, and it will want to communicate with me. We shall be fine.”
“But what if it’s not a Creature, miss?”
She blinked at him. “In that case I’ll scream, and you and Sophie should run as quickly as possible down the back stairs, through the kitchen, and outside to call the patrolman. Shall we, Roland?”
“Yes, miss.” He handed her the lamp. “After you, miss.”
Read the rest here.
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