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Post by Prince on Jul 25, 2007 4:45:33 GMT -5
Grab a good book and come read in the sunlight at the window chairs.
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Post by writecollins on Nov 10, 2007 21:32:47 GMT -5
Write sat quietly, reading a worn out copy of Robinson Crusoe in the library. He had a rare mments when he didn't have deadline to meet, he didn't have to chase after his cousin because she was at a rehearsal, and his shift at the restaraunt didn't start for another hour. He sat there, enjoying the quiet.
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Post by Daisy O'Connor on Nov 10, 2007 22:51:06 GMT -5
Daisy had carefully chosen a book from the shelves and was looking for an available chair to curl up in and read for awhile before she headed into McGinty's for her evening shift. Peem was busy and she had just seen him the day before, so it looked as though her company was going to be the characters of The Scarlet Letter. She smiled slightly at the sight of someone else settled in the chairs and took an available seat, opening the book and beginning to read.
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Post by writecollins on Nov 10, 2007 23:26:11 GMT -5
Write glanced up from his book at the girl, smiling congenially. "What are you reading?" he asked in a cultured British accent.
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Post by Daisy O'Connor on Nov 10, 2007 23:52:58 GMT -5
Daisy glanced up as the boy spoke and she smiled slightly, "The Scarlet Letter." She held up the book, tucking a strand of her wild, unruly hair behind her ear before looking at the book in his lap. "You?"
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Post by writecollins on Nov 11, 2007 17:40:02 GMT -5
Write smiled. "Robinson Crusoe. Always had a bit of a fondness for a good adventure story, you know?"
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Post by Daisy O'Connor on Nov 13, 2007 6:44:06 GMT -5
"Aye, I understand," Daisy said softly, with a slightly smile. "Tis the beauty of books...that they can take us on an adventure."
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Post by writecollins on Nov 13, 2007 18:02:59 GMT -5
Write smiled. "Someone in this town who understands! If you don't mind my asking, where are you from? You don't have that God-awful 'New Yawk' accent like most of the people here do."
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Post by Daisy O'Connor on Nov 13, 2007 18:49:20 GMT -5
Daisy smiled, laughing slightly as he spoke. "I'm from Ireland...grew up there so I can't quite shake the accent." She shrugged slightly and allowed her book to fall shut in her lap. "And you?"
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Post by writecollins on Nov 13, 2007 21:07:50 GMT -5
Write smiled. "England, mostly."
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Post by emilyb on Feb 11, 2009 19:14:10 GMT -5
*New Day*
In her two short years of living in America, Emily had managed to read every non-fiction book and nearly every fiction book in the library, granted she had done a lot of her reading in England as well. She sat in one of the window chairs, completely engrossed in her book -- "Great Expectations" by her favorite author, Charles Dickens.
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Post by Dodger Samuels on Feb 11, 2009 19:35:46 GMT -5
Dickens? She was a fan of Dickens? The artful Dodger was sitting on a chair near the window his hat cocked to the side as he read Nicholas Nickelby. It was for Moira that he was reading it, remembering when she'd read it to him. That girl--- smiling to himself he continued over the chapter.
Honestly he almost looked like the rascal Dickens described. He was tall though, not short and boyish. He was growing out of the cute stage and leaning towards the adult stage but not quit there yet. The Bronx leader was a lot of things; verbose, wickedly humorous and always fond of a good joke. But aside from all that he was a serious bloke who did love to read. That was how he'd taken his name-- Dodger. Sam didn't feel like his name any longer. Dodger was what he wanted to be called, because it was who he was now. Samuel was a street rat with nothing to gain or to lose. Dodger had his own things; a borough to care for, a girl he loved very much, friends he didn't want to do without and to top it all off--- he was cared about.
Mumbling he turned the page again and tipped his hat back from his face, dark eyes on the page. Where did Moira stop?
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Post by emilyb on Feb 11, 2009 21:37:25 GMT -5
At his mumble, Emily glanced inquisitively over her book, becoming more curious when she saw what he was reading. Nicholas Nickleby. Not one of her favorites, but a good read all the same. She enjoyed its characters, particularly Mrs. Nickleby, Nicholas mother. Her muddle-headedness was something Enioy could relate to on occasion and it was nice to see it in a story. Lowering her own book to her lap, she regarded the fellow.
"D'you loike it?" she asked, her Bermondsey accent coming off a bit strong.
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Post by Dodger Samuels on Feb 11, 2009 21:56:21 GMT -5
"D'you loike it?" she asked, her Bermondsey accent coming off a bit strong.
Dodger looked up from the book, his eyes settling on the girl that had an accent that could mirror his own. London child born and raised the smile that he cast at her was as jolly as he could be.
"This tripe," he started laughing and nodded. "Aye, tis my favorite book. What about you, love? You like Dickens?"
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Post by emilyb on Feb 11, 2009 22:20:28 GMT -5
Emily smiled once she heard him speak, recognizing his accent to be English as well.
"I do. Can't say 's me favorite, though," she answered, holding up the book. "Tis me firs' time readin' 'is one, it is."
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(c)Red
