...Or 'unfinished writing attempts' These mini-episodes were made to let out some pent-up creative steam and to put to paper some products of imagination that are constantly running around in my mind.
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Well, I wrote this some years ago and until now I am not very satisfied with it. *sigh*
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Intention
“I want this over and settled
with, Bishwit and I don’t want any damn
arguments to begin with. As for now, the
Aglaia clan is at the mercy of stupid, worthless scumbags who are being
unwittingly manipulated by that old, traitorous fleabag. I had to hand it to him, I did not see that coming. He kept changing his mind so often that I
wondered if he would even come round a decision. Conveniently enough, my brother went
‘hunting’ and he never came back. My father
can’t do anything since he needs the approval of the elder council, add to the
fact that he’s ill and the clan is “innocently” following the fleabags. I would’ve sworn in front of the entire
congregation of what is happening, but I don’t have any proof except my visions
– which they wouldn’t accept, since they don’t know I’m a clairvoyant. Besides, no one would believe a harbinger of
evil.”
She looked at the loyal,
white-haired butler, who taught her how to play the most exciting game of
cards, after this tirade and asked, “Would you be so kind as to tell the
messenger that I accept the invitation and am eagerly looking forward to this
benefit ball?”
Bishwit raised his eyebrows, “Of
course, Yuki-sama.” And he turned to
convey the message to the waiting messenger at the door but halted as he
listened to his mistress’ parting shot.
“And Bishwit?” she smiled that
famous sly grin of hers when she would do the most outrageous things no one
ever expected. “And as for the clan, given that I’m naturally
the next in line, I don’t give a damn.
I’d have my grandmother take my father’s place. Let’s see how they handle her!” she expressed
with glee.
Turning, Bishwit shook his head,
praying to every god to bestow mercy on anyone who crosses his angry mistress
now.
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