12 Apr 2021, 18:35
Not the Time
From the ripped edges of parchment to the sopping errors of ink, he knew it wasn't good enough.
He supposed others would etch 'father' or something of the sort as the recipient, but Pres knew better than that. He twiddled with a quill in his left hand as he reviewed his letter for hopefully the last time, his mind only allowing certain words of 'Gryffindor' and 'pleased' to register. He was only one of those things at the moment.
His eyes trailed over twice, mayhaps trice before he willed his mind to cease the gears turning in his head. His eyes glanced from Herboverd Holding at the top to the simple Pres after a sincerely and absent mindedly moved on his own.
He added another line to his letter of feint (or perhaps it was real?) glee, reading 'I hope you are proud of me'. He let those words float in a pool of his own concerns, thinking everything and merely nothing simultaneously. He ripped the parchment into halves, into to quarters, and did not stop until all that remained were undecipherable slices of paper that littered the Owlery floor. Pres huffed and stormed to his dormitory in a twisted feeling of self-loathing.
Today was not the day. It'll never be the day.
He supposed others would etch 'father' or something of the sort as the recipient, but Pres knew better than that. He twiddled with a quill in his left hand as he reviewed his letter for hopefully the last time, his mind only allowing certain words of 'Gryffindor' and 'pleased' to register. He was only one of those things at the moment.
His eyes trailed over twice, mayhaps trice before he willed his mind to cease the gears turning in his head. His eyes glanced from Herboverd Holding at the top to the simple Pres after a sincerely and absent mindedly moved on his own.
He added another line to his letter of feint (or perhaps it was real?) glee, reading 'I hope you are proud of me'. He let those words float in a pool of his own concerns, thinking everything and merely nothing simultaneously. He ripped the parchment into halves, into to quarters, and did not stop until all that remained were undecipherable slices of paper that littered the Owlery floor. Pres huffed and stormed to his dormitory in a twisted feeling of self-loathing.
Today was not the day. It'll never be the day.
Pres Holding