Playground
Parents do not fear; your children are safe in the Playground. A benevolent fairy watches over young colts and fillies who come to frolic here. The trees are ancient things, and widely spaced (excellent for tag) and there are several low logs to leap over and many ponds and thickets full of wonder for the little ones. Come play and form friendships that will last a lifetime.
when we collide, any
IP: 88.198.24.199
Posted on May 16, 2011 at 04:33:44 PM by ebenezer
The youngest of six children, the youngest of four sons, Ebenezer was born. After a Marley, then a Teddy and before him a Fluery, his mother had decided it was time to buck the trend. He was also born so soon (only a few years, a moment really in her long, long lifetime) after her last son; the babies in the family tended to remain so for at least a decade of so – such was the case when you came from a family prone to entirely unnatural longevity.
Like his brothers (and long gone sisters) he was a paint, the bold mark of their father impressed upon their very flesh. It was a strange experience to be surrounded by that familiarity, his three older, boisterous brothers – all laughter and levity – with their piebald father, the one who always dominated their looks, and their quiet but smiling mother. Kings and queens came and went, romances of the ages blossomed and aged to become stories of their times, but nary a soul knew of Kieran and Adora, forever-companions and their barbarian hoard of children (or so he had once heard his mother refer to them as).
As comforting as they were, it was also easy to feel lost amongst their laid back ways and the sea of white on bay, grey and black. And so the young Ebenezer slipped away, in the middle of some particularly enthralling joke his father was weaving, knowing they wouldn't worry (so long as he returned before nightfall). Having pelted across the meadow and through to the playground, he catches his breath for a moment while he watches the others play with rapt eyes. |
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