A little bit of me mixed with some hard liquor -- Library

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Date Posted: 05:51:59 06/24/02 Mon
Author: Katherine 'Kitty' Naylor
Subject: A little bit of me mixed with some hard liquor
In reply to: Julian Emberson 's message, "Re: You're such a monster." on 22:29:00 06/23/02 Sun

((I'm only posting because I was reading through OOC stuff waiting to be accepted and noticed this posted recently: 'and if you invent another character, just start playing them without my approval.' -Haley. If I am not supposed to be posting...tell me.))

Katherine had bounded into the library in good spirits. Her white/silvery hair bounced along from behind, and as she came to a walk it fell back down the length of her back. An intense icy blue gaze scowered the library. If you were someone pretty well aware of everyone in the school, you wouldn't recognize her because she wasn't an American. She was from England, however, she looked happy to be there. In fact she was happy to be there, her life in England hadn't been that great.

Katherine sat at a table across from an American boy, she gave him a soft smile as if not to disturb him, and continued on about her business. She took a book out, a collection of poems. As Katherine turned the pages she finally stopped somewhere in the middle to a poem by Dylan Thomas entitled 'Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night'. Katherine then took out a blank sheet of music, with only the bars and no notes. Katherine was about to fix that problem.

Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Katherine sang a tune inside her head, and as she did, she wrote down the notes on her paper. She seemed to be concentrating very hard on creating a song out of this poem.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right, Because their words had forked no lightning they Do not go gentle into that good night.

More notes were being scribbled away quickly, until she came to the next verse.

d men, the last wave by, crying how bright Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

She put the end of her quill between her teeth, as if she were stuck with the song. She was really, she couldn't make the verse fit with the music she had written so far correctly. So after a few moments of contemplation, Katherine erased a few notes, but it still wasn't working. She wasn't frustrated, this was part of the process. Writing a song took patience and creativity, finding/writing lyrics was the easy part. The music was what mattered. Katherine had written her own songs before, but she loved this poem and this poet, so she had chosen to use one of his poems for her next piece.

As her eyes traveled up to the boy in front of her once again, she wondered if he could help her. "Um, excuse me, do you know anything about writing music? I'm just stuck on my song." she said after she had tapped his shoulder lightly. "I hope I'm not bothering you or anything." she added.

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Replies:

Note From Aaron. -- Aaron, 22:35:06 06/24/02 Mon
- Note From Kat. -- Katherine (yes...it's my real name to), 05:40:40 06/25/02 Tue