Treasure

It is truly amazing how many battered and beautiful things can be found once people have forgotten about them. This one was my sister's find, and our granddad let us have it, for a little while at least. Since he's as avida bibliophile as we are, and almost never throws away anything when he can pass it on instead, I guess I'm not too surprised that he should have such a thing. I'm just sorry I'd never seen it before, though maybe I would not have appreciated it when I was younger.

"Language of Flowers", one of Warne's Bijou Books. A battered little thing, inkstained and faded, of a size to fit in your palm. Loose-leaved, the glue and webbing about to fall apart, the colour plate in the front half-detached. The cover is barely legible anymore, but you can see the hints of the gold-and-ink decoration that used to be there. The publishing date is missing, but the style of the opening page is late 19th/early 20th century. The pages can still be read, though, for all that turning them makes you afraid you'll tear them.

It's a beautiful, fragile and battered little thing. I love it.

I'm going to have to write a victorian fic just so I can use some of the things inside it.

Q/Picard ficlet

Because merfilly  has put me in the mood for cosmic trekfic. Thank you, hon, by the way! Also, this is Christmas-fic. So sue me!

Title:  Snowglobe
Rating:  PG
Characters/Pairing:  Q/Picard, though only from a distance, as yet.
Wordcount:  421
Summary:  It was pure whimsy.
Notes:  Partly inspired by the crystal-ball scene from Labyrinth. Opening line is from that song.
Disclaimer:  It's Paramount's, yes?

( But I'll be there for you, as the world falls down ... )