kayeaton: (small!kay)
[The handwriting is unrecognizable, having gone from this to something much closer to this; it's neat as a pin, like someone spent a lot of time working on her penmanship.]

It seems like this book is getting messages from other people (or else I don't know where all the words are coming from on the other pages), so I'll try writing a message, too. If it don't doesn't work, no one else'll know.

Can someone please tell me how I can get to Ben Davis High School from here? Mildred says we're going to start reading Romeo and Juliet today, so I can't miss class. And Miss Breibeck gets real mad if you're late to homeroom.

I'm also interested in how this book here works, if anyone happens to know. I never seen saw another like it. It's like if radio was written down. Oh, I hope anyone can actually read this.

((OOC: Replies to come from [livejournal.com profile] kayhunter~!))
kayeaton: (tell me more.)
All right, I've got to know: Are there any publishing outfits here? In a town this size, the chances seem slim, but for all I know, there's a paper no one's mentioned to me. I've got a story or two started, and if I could see them in print, I wouldn't mind dropping my asking price to zero cents a word. It won't hurt them to sit in handwritten piles in my apartment, of course, but stories are always better when they're shared.

It's strange to think that it's May here. It was November back in Manhattan, and that meant a lot of gray skies and windy days, and some rainy ones. Thanksgiving was coming up; between Julius and I, a whole turkey is a waste of a bird, but we were going to have something nice for dinner nonetheless. And in the meanwhile, it would have been a whole lot of pounding on typewriters and talking, no doubt.

At least I left near the start of the month. Just in case time here doesn't run faster than every other world's time, he's got a few weeks to plan out a story or two about the drunken scientist or the mutant hillbillies, and from there...well, ideally, he'd show up here one of these days, too. And if not, he's written plenty on his own before; he's not about to starve to death just because I'm not there to do my share.

I do miss him, though.

((OOC: And just in case you're curious, when she says drunken scientist and mutant hillbillies, she is, uh. Completely serious.))

first draft

May. 4th, 2011 06:27 pm
kayeaton: (tell me more.)
All right, I give up. Did I die in my sleep? They always told me about clouds and white angel wings when I was a girl, though nothing says they had to be right about that--it's not like any of them had died before. This place has the white gowns, at least, so that's a point in favor of the theory.

But maybe it isn't Heaven--let's see, what're the other options? The future? I always imagined more city and less wildlife, and I wouldn't've figured on wings as the next big fad, but this isn't bad looking, for a future. Another planet entirely? Doesn't really explain the wings. An alternate dimension? Could explain the wings, if there're alternate dimensions out there where everyone has wings. Hell, maybe it's the past, though I think they skipped the Time of the Bird People back in history class.

Maybe I've just fallen into Wonderland.

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Kay Eaton

November 2013

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