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#amwriting "The Owl from Oblivion", 196,233 words #LiteraryFiction #scifi #fantasy #writing #ChildrensBooks #adoption
Anashivalia deeply imbibes the narcotic vapors of her books, preparing to defend her British composure against the emotional onslaught of the uncivilized brutality perpetrated upon the boy she wishes was her son—instead of Stefan—a boy of exceptional kindness and civility, one in need of a parental haven, unlike Stefan’s dragging of his parentage behind him like a burdensome ball and chain shackle. Syon is dirty and unkempt, shivering uncontrollably from extended exposure to the morning cold. She quickly descends the stairs, grabs her keys from behind the register, and unlocks the front door. The boy enters the store and she locks the door behind him. “Syon, how long have you been standing out there?”
“Oh, just a little while,” he says whimsically, with a big smile meant to hide the pain he is feeling.
“So you have been out there for at least an hour. What happened this time? It seems your mother turned you out without breakfast or even making sure you were presentable.”
Anashivalia picks a stack of books up off the large worktables, sorting them onto the bookstore shelves while dreaming of Syon being her son, working in the bookstore with her.
“She didn’t feel inclined to get out of bed this morning. Besides, I love matching my dear friend Ty.”
“Ty has a certain allowance, due to not having a proper mother.”
“Neither do I,” mumbles Syon.
Anashivalia examines Syon’s expression. She detects that his cheerfulness is a deception. “Did your mother give you grief about your hair?”
“She screamed at me for half an hour and then tried to scrub it out with dish soap.”
“Just shampoo should have taken it out. I ensured it wasn’t permanent hair color.”
“Um…” He pauses. “During chemistry lesson-time yesterday, Stefan explained how he turned it into a permanent dye. That way, he said, I could always be his son. He said I needed a new father.” A few tears drop from Syon’s eye.
Anashivalia puts a pile of books down on the table and walks over to Syon. She lifts up some of his hair to reveal bloody sores on his scalp. She gives him a tight hug. He sniffles and moans slightly. Anashivalia kisses him on his cheek and breaks their embrace. “All right, turn around and let me see.”
Syon turns his back towards her and lifts his shirt up. “Leonard thrashed me to get my insanity out of me and put some real brains in me. He said maybe I would start acting like a man and not embarrass them in front of their friends.”
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