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    Anne versus The Medievalists

    Story written on July 24, 2019 by Blackbird.
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    Number of Comments: 4
    Words: 2545
    Story Shortlink: https://lesfan.com/?p=95729
    Author Notes:

    ”Cordingly,” I ask, looking away from the mirror having decided that before breakfast is the time to break my nose back into form. ”Can you get me several rolls of cotton? You know the kind you use for a nosebleed. Something to stick right up your nostril,” I say while making a shoving motion that

    ”Cordingly,” I ask, looking away from the mirror having decided that before breakfast is the time to break my nose back into form. ”Can you get me several rolls of cotton? You know the kind you use for a nosebleed. Something to stick right up your nostril,” I say while making a shoving motion that unnerves her and she flinches at my idea and hurries from my bedroom.

    Once I’m alone, I put the spine of a volume of poetry against the right side of my nose and pick up a hefty tortoiseshell hairbrush to smack the left side back into place.

    This method I do not recommend trying at home, but when the bleeding had finally stopped, and I no longer saw double, Cordingly managed enough tape and cotton that I felt I wouldn’t bleed freely on myself, for at least part of the day.

    If I keep telling myself it’s only a bad headache, and surely by tomorrow I’ll be a nose-breather again, I think I can make it down the hill to where Pickles and his crew are building something for me.

    As predicted, everyone in my family acts strangely around me during breakfast, when a note from Miss Walker arrived inquiring if I had any first-hand news about what happened to Mr. Ainsworth on his way out of town. If so, she was summoning my presence, at my earliest convenience, to discuss the matter.

    The head of steam I’ve gotten under me —solely fueled by broken-nose pain —may be short-lived. I incline to check in on Pickles building my stacking stone walls. Each piece chiseled out of the quarries at Shibden.

    standing stone wall at Shibden

    I find the wall under construction after a ten-minute walk. Now that I’ve examined them, how nicely the stone pieces are balanced and fitted together, I’m certain of it. Still standing a thousand years from now will be my ornamental walk that meanders alongside the boundaries of an ancient Roman road I discovered on one of Shibden’s hillsides.

    It’s going to be beautiful.

    After congratulating Pickles and his men on what an excellent job they’re doing, I flip open my pocket watch and see that it’s half-past ten.

    I can’t put off seeing Miss Walker any longer.

    Twenty minutes later —

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    Comments

    1. Luv this.

      “In Paris, I had the best sex of my life…”

      Was just thinking, “Wait til she takes Ann to the beautiful Lake District.” Some distance from her native Halifax, yes, and she probably didn’t, in real life. But can you see it? That setting, your two romantic leading ladies, riding or walking that spectacular land, perhaps conversing with Wordsworth, a fellow Tory, and founder of English Romanticism.

      I think she’d do it.

      Meanwhile, sorry about not answering right away — you asked some weeks back about what to read. I recently finished “Three Women” and haven’t stopped thinking about it. The loneliness of female desire. Not for the faint of heart.

      • .Skydancer,

        To learn more about Anne Lister, I’m looking into the books, novels, and poetry she read during the period I’m writing about her. Wordsworth was one as was Byron. Whether it was an idea Byron had that excited Anne Lister, too, or whether this was an erotic custom known on the fringes, I have not discovered that answer yet, but both Anne Lister and Lord Byron had the unusual desire to keep clippings of their lover’s pubic hair. Anne Lister wore Miss Walker’s in a locket around her neck.

        Good Lord, there are so many parts of the historical period during which they lived and their own lives. I’m delighted to keep writing them. My thanks for your comment. I skipped over purchasing Lisa Tardoe’s book and instead got the newest novel “City of Girls” by Elizabeth Gilbert and “Educated” by Tara Westover. I shall look for Lisa’s book once I’ve finished those above two.

      • K12foru,

        My great thanks for your comment. In the opening scene of this story, it was vital, while Anne was in agony to show her irritation and how frustrated and furious she’d become with the prospect of losing yet another woman to marriage with another man.

        When it came time to write her anger, and these lines came into my mind, “Should I tell her that toying with me —like she’s been doing in this hellish back and forth —has eaten away at my heart whole because only a broken aching thing would satisfy its ghoulish appetites?

        Should I tell her how insane it makes me that my love life resembles a battlefield because I’m at war with surrender?” I felt I had captured her a depth of her lover’s angst.

        Thank you for reading, and I’m delighted you enjoyed the story.

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