Jot eats his tureen, ٹورین of beef سٹو, اسیجنا with alarming speed. I savor the rich flavor of the meal, knowing I should put on as much padding as possible before the games begin to have energy reserves.
"So," he says. "we pondered quite a few ideas when designing your costumes. We could dress آپ as fishermen, but we feel that would be too... drab. Typical. We also considered dressing آپ as a wave, but we couldn't get the fabrics in time. So Reida (Jay's stylist) and I decided to try a new approach."
"New approach?"
"Yes. Would آپ like to see it?" He asks, standing up and pushing his chair in. He walks briskly, even though we have several hours until the opening parade.
-----------<()>-----------
"Close your eyes," he tells me. I hear the creak of the dresser at the far side of the room being opened. Then his footsteps. A dress is gently settled over my head and onto my shoulders. It weighs enough that it startles me into opening my eyes.
I look down. It immediately strikes me as the most beautifully ethereal thing I have ever laid eyes on, much less worn.
The dress is sleeveless. The سب, سب سے اوپر hem is embroidered with فیتا, فیتے and pearls. Tiny سونا beads line the edge of the lace. From there, the fabric flows down, but there are scales sewn onto it. They are all mother-of-pearl and they ripple when I move, like chain mail. It is gathered at my waist and extends to knee length. Jot smiles.
"You look even مزید beautiful than I pictured. See what I meant?"
And I do. Jot has turned me into a fish, if مچھلی are divine creatures.
I turn and look behind me into the mirror. Pale golden gauze forms fins down my back.
"That's not all," Jot says as he opens the dresser drawer again. He grabs a pair of golden slippers with pearl beadwork, a semitransparent شال that has the appearance of seaweed, and a headpiece کے, headpiece, ہیڈپیسی that tops it all.
It is golden, with the seaweed-shawl material and pearls woven into it. Satiny streamers of fabric in gold, green, pale pink, blue, and cream spread from the sides and flutter down my back when he places it on my head.
I'm going to have سپانسرز lined up around the block.
-----------------------<()>-------------------------
Sorry this is a short chapter, but I can't write اگلے week, so I thought I'd go ahead and کریں شائع this. Hope آپ like it and please become a fan!
"So," he says. "we pondered quite a few ideas when designing your costumes. We could dress آپ as fishermen, but we feel that would be too... drab. Typical. We also considered dressing آپ as a wave, but we couldn't get the fabrics in time. So Reida (Jay's stylist) and I decided to try a new approach."
"New approach?"
"Yes. Would آپ like to see it?" He asks, standing up and pushing his chair in. He walks briskly, even though we have several hours until the opening parade.
-----------<()>-----------
"Close your eyes," he tells me. I hear the creak of the dresser at the far side of the room being opened. Then his footsteps. A dress is gently settled over my head and onto my shoulders. It weighs enough that it startles me into opening my eyes.
I look down. It immediately strikes me as the most beautifully ethereal thing I have ever laid eyes on, much less worn.
The dress is sleeveless. The سب, سب سے اوپر hem is embroidered with فیتا, فیتے and pearls. Tiny سونا beads line the edge of the lace. From there, the fabric flows down, but there are scales sewn onto it. They are all mother-of-pearl and they ripple when I move, like chain mail. It is gathered at my waist and extends to knee length. Jot smiles.
"You look even مزید beautiful than I pictured. See what I meant?"
And I do. Jot has turned me into a fish, if مچھلی are divine creatures.
I turn and look behind me into the mirror. Pale golden gauze forms fins down my back.
"That's not all," Jot says as he opens the dresser drawer again. He grabs a pair of golden slippers with pearl beadwork, a semitransparent شال that has the appearance of seaweed, and a headpiece کے, headpiece, ہیڈپیسی that tops it all.
It is golden, with the seaweed-shawl material and pearls woven into it. Satiny streamers of fabric in gold, green, pale pink, blue, and cream spread from the sides and flutter down my back when he places it on my head.
I'm going to have سپانسرز lined up around the block.
-----------------------<()>-------------------------
Sorry this is a short chapter, but I can't write اگلے week, so I thought I'd go ahead and کریں شائع this. Hope آپ like it and please become a fan!
Deep in the trees, in the midst of their Games,
We stood together: a pact, a team, friends.
Your presence revived me, weakened my pains,
Brought back who I was outside of their lens.
Yet now I lay with you, knowing you’re gone
Watching your innocence fade from your eyes.
As a parting wish, I whisper a song,
A hymn that follows your soul as it dies.
Your eyes flicker shut, your breath is now gone,
Yet your soul echoes throughout the vast wood,
Filling these desolate trees with a song;
And through my tears I stand where آپ once stood,
Holding a young girl whom I barely knew,
Eleven’s tribute, forever my Rue.
Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where they strung up a man they say murdered three.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree.
Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where the dead man called out for his love to flee.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree.
Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where I told آپ to run so we’d both be free.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree.
Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Wear a ہار of rope, side سے طرف کی side with me.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree
Coming to the tree
Where they strung up a man they say murdered three.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree.
Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where the dead man called out for his love to flee.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree.
Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where I told آپ to run so we’d both be free.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree.
Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Wear a ہار of rope, side سے طرف کی side with me.
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree
