Vois Sur Ton Chemin

The Adventures of Marlow: The Beginning

Marlow was a pig. A potbellied pig, to be precise. He was not particularly large, nor particularly small, nor even particularly potbellied. He possessed no magical powers, average intelligence, modest hobbies, and manageable ambitions. In just about every way that could be measured, weighed, evaluated--if devices existed to measure happiness, empathy, or any other emotion--Marlow was what one could, were one to be generous, describe as 'normal'.



Yesterday Marlow decided to go grocery shopping. This is always a big event, shopping, and he always waits until his house is completely empty of food before going, until he is tempted to nibble on the doorframes. In fact, some times he does nibble and nobble a bit, but only on the door to the upstairs linen closet, where no one ever looks, since he hasn't any linen and seldom any guests. He is often disappointed in himself when he does this, but he very much dislikes shopping so it's a close call.

Marlow lived in a house. It, like Marlow, was a normal house, of average size, relatively well-kept. It had a front yard and a small back garden where Marlow attempted to grow vegetables, and despite the fact he was a pig he managed relatively well. The house was red, the trim was white, the windows curtained, the mice well-behaved, the street quiet. Marlow was relatively content with his house.

Marlow's house enjoyed being Marlow's house. It didn't have a name, unfortunately, because it was unable to tell Marlow it wanted one. It would have liked to have been called Harrison, or perhaps Bingham, or maybe Alderford. But since Marlow never understood it when it tried to talk, Marlow's house just stayed Marlow's House. It didn't mind so much when Marlow nibbled on the upstairs linen closet. It had lots of closets, and was happy to share. Marlow took relatively good care of Marlow's House, told it stories some times.




..::to be continued...

posted by Vivyenne @ 12:26 PM