Amanda Sefton (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
xp_daytripper) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
xp_logs2008-04-29 10:33 pm
xp_daytripper) wrote in xp_logs2008-04-29 10:33 pm
Entry tags:
London Calling - Amanda, Tuesday night
A restless witch gets a strange call.
London Bridge is falling down...
Amanda sighed and tossed her book aside, reaching for the remote. A minute or two later, she was on her feet padding over to her fridge. But when she got there, she stood idly, hanging onto the door and eyeing the contents. No, not hungry either... instead she snagged a beer and wandered back over to the couch, twisting off the top as she went. She'd been restless all evening, but she couldn't figure out why.
...falling down, falling down...
Two swigs of beer later, she set the bottle down on the coffee table, picking up her cigarettes and heading for the kitchen window and the fire escape. Maybe nicotine would clear her head, or, failing that, she could tune into New York. Sitting on the step, she lit up, blowing out smoke with a sigh. What was up with her tonight?
London Bridge is falling down...
A couple of drags in, she found herself stubbing out the cigarette and standing, leaning against the railing and looking out over the street. Closing her eyes, she tried to focus on her mutant power, tried to find some kind of calm, but the energy grated like biting down on tinfoil. Something, somewhere, was going very wrong.
Her pocket began to shrill and she pulled out her cellphone. Overseas number, not one she knew straight away.
"Hello?" she said, frowning a little as static gusted across the line, but no immediate answer. Then faintly came the sound of voices, childlike ones echoing the same rhyme that had been stuck in her head all evening:
"London Bridge is falling down, my fair lady..."
London Bridge is falling down...
Amanda sighed and tossed her book aside, reaching for the remote. A minute or two later, she was on her feet padding over to her fridge. But when she got there, she stood idly, hanging onto the door and eyeing the contents. No, not hungry either... instead she snagged a beer and wandered back over to the couch, twisting off the top as she went. She'd been restless all evening, but she couldn't figure out why.
...falling down, falling down...
Two swigs of beer later, she set the bottle down on the coffee table, picking up her cigarettes and heading for the kitchen window and the fire escape. Maybe nicotine would clear her head, or, failing that, she could tune into New York. Sitting on the step, she lit up, blowing out smoke with a sigh. What was up with her tonight?
London Bridge is falling down...
A couple of drags in, she found herself stubbing out the cigarette and standing, leaning against the railing and looking out over the street. Closing her eyes, she tried to focus on her mutant power, tried to find some kind of calm, but the energy grated like biting down on tinfoil. Something, somewhere, was going very wrong.
Her pocket began to shrill and she pulled out her cellphone. Overseas number, not one she knew straight away.
"Hello?" she said, frowning a little as static gusted across the line, but no immediate answer. Then faintly came the sound of voices, childlike ones echoing the same rhyme that had been stuck in her head all evening:
"London Bridge is falling down, my fair lady..."