Sylvie

[toharponaboutit]

This is for the delightful Mademoiselle Fawcett. Who claimed I did not do her justice in my earlier story. So...

I have met a woman. No. The woman. Next to her she forces all others into pale imitations. Diluted. Washed out. Sunbleached and envious moons

Comments

[sylvie_renee]

Simply 'Marie' Antoinette, chéri.

Otherwise, I do believe this is your best piece of literature yet.

[toharponaboutit]

Ah, oui. I was jotting down notes about a marionette earlier and I suppose I got confused.

I am not so surprised.

[sylvie_renee]

I really just had to steal Carmichael's editing job before he got here.

That's because you know it's great as well. Possibly even close to epic.

[toharponaboutit]

Is that the name of the editor? I am certain he will find something else to pass comment upon, for which I'm grateful.

Isn't that odd? I wrote it in a matter of minutes.

[summerchef]

In other words, the universe demands that a Sylvie exists.

[sylvie_renee]

Well, just think of how much darker the world would be without one of me.

[summerchef]

And there'd be less crumbling statues and dangerous whirlwinds.

[sylvie_renee]

It would be a tragic loss, indeed.

[missmacdougal]

I still think Sylvie needs a friend.

[toharponaboutit]

I think so too. Would you object to be called Morton?

[missmacdougal]

Morton? But isn't that a guy's name? Why can't she jsut be Morag?

[toharponaboutit]

Because the muse is male, of course! I suppose I could always call him Morag, but that would be a tad awkward, don't you think?

[mad_meaghan]

Oh please.

[toharponaboutit]

I know, I know.

[mad_meaghan]

The last was better.

[toharponaboutit]

Perhaps you could poll the other tenants? I heard that was en vogue a month or so back.