Post by ylva torhild skjeggestad on Oct 10, 2017 14:38:09 GMT -5
Ylva rarely wrote in her own apartment. Her apartment was a place for scented candles, her Elven collection, and horror movie binge sessions. No, when she needed to get her work done she had to be elsewhere. Like Kiss My Axe. She found she could focus there with people coming and going. She had set up a little table near the back office, just an old discarded patio set that was peeling paint and barely big enough for her laptop, notebooks and whatever drink was currently her favourite brew. If she needed to block out the sounds of groups laughing and hollering, she had a phone full of death metal that worked wonders for her concentration – much to her editor’s horror. She explained it to him once and somehow he looked startled that this bubbly blonde thing was so dark, tattooed and obsessed with all things occult. Ylva joked it was the only way to survive a small Kentucky town.
Stearns was a place she couldn’t write about. She didn’t even want to think about it. Forgetting the horror she had experienced as a little girl whose face was plastered on MISSING posters, the place was still a prison cell. There was no freedom to be who she wanted to be there. She survived being kidnapped by a mentally ill man, and then went on to survive and act like a regular teenager. She didn’t broadcast her nightmares or fears and that made her odd to the people in the town. They could deal with her dark clothes and piercings, but surviving a life changing ordeal was alien to them. Ylva ran at the first chance and never looked back. Even now she only did what she had to and returned for necessary holidays. She stood out, was the odd one in a town full of comfortable families with their lives all neatly arranged and safely planned out. She was the triangle who was never going to fit into that circular hole even though they kept slamming her against it waiting for her to slide through and slip into place.
Even now she probably seemed a little out of place. Regulars and two parties were in for the booked sessions at Kiss My Axe and here she was in a corner, tapping away at a laptop. She had a cup of liquorice tea in front of her and was paying no mind to the sharp objects whizzing by just ten feet away. She had a knife in the bag on the back of her chair and one tucked in her boot, as per her usual standard of practice, but Ylva was working, not enjoying her hobbies right now. If she could get this chapter on Romania completed by tonight then she could forward it to her editor and spend tomorrow relaxing before the concert she had tickets for. She needed to lose herself in a heavy mosh pit; she felt stiff. Ylva was proofreading her last few paragraphs, chewing on her thumb when she spotted someone hovering near her table, just out of the corner of her eye. Without looking up from her laptop, she spoke. “I’m not working here. Any problems you need to take to the front desk.” She pointed casually in the direction of where she had seen her brother just five minutes beforehand, expecting whoever’s shadow was floating over her to follow the line of her finger. She was so close to being done with this chapter.
• • •
TAGGED! Schuyler Pacey Sorenson
WORDS! 583!
OUTFIT! Nordic Nightmare!
LYRICS! Pirate’s Life - - - We Cut Corners
NOTES! <3
