Patty's Place.It's been on her mind ever since Anne had returned from the "consitutional" through the park with the girls, and Charlie and Gilbert. Even now, sitting on a low wall in the graveyard across from her room, her mind is not on the here and now but rather trailing delightfully through dreams of tiny red brick cottages, laughter, and a ( Read more... )

It's the fault of the letters.

Those letters from Avonlea, full of gossip and warmth from Diana, full of advice and kind words from Marilla and Mrs. Rachel, full of spotty ink and misspelled words from Davey. That must be why Anne is feeling so very homesick, as she readies for bed and braids her long red hair ( Read more... )

The steps heading towards Room 203 aren't as light as they once were, but the laughter and the voices are just as girlish, and it's almost possible to forget the curve to Amy's stomach or the way Anne's hair is coiled so firmly instead of falling in a loose braid ( Read more... )

Anne has never particularly cared for March. It tends to be cold, and gray, and rainy and muddy, and she almost always has a cold through most of it. But it is her birthmonth, and this particular day does happen to be her birthday ( Read more... )

Green Gables looks particularly pretty on a clear winter's evening, when the sun has just set and stained the snow rose and gold and orange, and the windows glow comfortingly into the settling dusk. It looks everything calm, and peaceful, and you know that inside there will be a crackling fire, and the smell of baking bread.

There will also be a ( Read more... )

( Bran Davies )

It's marvelous, Anne thinks, that the air in Avonlea hasn't yet chilled, and that the leaves haven't fallen yet, though they are red and gold and glowing in the slanting October sunlight, and she breathes in the familiar scents happily and with a sigh, closing her eyes in bliss. Behind her, the music from the A.V.I.S's harvest party hums merrily ( Read more... )

This is not, in actuality, plot-related. Just a little something that poked as me until I had to write it. Do enjoy.Anne isn't sure, exactly, what it is that draws her to him so. He is prickly, and proud, and his moods oscillate wildly--he glares and laughs and freezes all in a minute and she loses her balance and grasps blindly at words while ( Read more... )

It has been...an interesting night ( Read more... )