Motivation Monday
Aug. 13th, 2023 08:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rosanicusAnother day of the week another new alliterative post title! All weekend I have been thinking about writing and only now, on Monday evening, am I finally sitting down to actually get something written!
Today I bring you a little more of the Frau Lowenhardt show, in which she is explaining the inciting incident to Biggles and holding back one vital piece of information.
“Thank you,” she said. “I will ask that you listen to my story in its entirety before you decide whether to assist. I will understand if you choose not to; indeed I assume that will be the cast. And yet, as I have said, this is my last resort. You will forgive me if my narrative is a little confused, for I have not slept in several days.”
Biggles nodded in acknowledgment. “I regret that you have been in such extreme circumstances. It can’t have been easy for you.”
“Indeed not,” said Frau Lowenhardt. “My troubles began last month. My brother had been to visit us in Berlin - it should not surprise you to learn that it was East Berlin, I imagine?”
“No,” Biggles replied. He made a note on a scrap of paper, “I had assumed that such a long and difficult journey would not be necessary if you were on this side of the Curtain.”
“Yes, it would have been much easier,” she said. “Many things would have been. But there is no point indulging in speculation on a time long past.” She paused for a moment. Biggles leaned back in his chair, noting that Frau Lowenhardt had twisted her fingers together at her waist. There was a thin mark on her ring finger where a wedding band would usually sit. “Yes. My brother had come to visit us, and then he was called away on a case. This often happens; it is usual that he will not contact us for some weeks at a time and indeed there have been years when we only hear from him perhaps two or three times. This case in particular seemed to frustrate him, but of course behind the Curtain there is nothing one can do besides stew. He had been gone for three weeks when we received news that he was missing.”
The fact this fic is probably going to end up being like ten thousand words haunts me.
Today I bring you a little more of the Frau Lowenhardt show, in which she is explaining the inciting incident to Biggles and holding back one vital piece of information.
“Thank you,” she said. “I will ask that you listen to my story in its entirety before you decide whether to assist. I will understand if you choose not to; indeed I assume that will be the cast. And yet, as I have said, this is my last resort. You will forgive me if my narrative is a little confused, for I have not slept in several days.”
Biggles nodded in acknowledgment. “I regret that you have been in such extreme circumstances. It can’t have been easy for you.”
“Indeed not,” said Frau Lowenhardt. “My troubles began last month. My brother had been to visit us in Berlin - it should not surprise you to learn that it was East Berlin, I imagine?”
“No,” Biggles replied. He made a note on a scrap of paper, “I had assumed that such a long and difficult journey would not be necessary if you were on this side of the Curtain.”
“Yes, it would have been much easier,” she said. “Many things would have been. But there is no point indulging in speculation on a time long past.” She paused for a moment. Biggles leaned back in his chair, noting that Frau Lowenhardt had twisted her fingers together at her waist. There was a thin mark on her ring finger where a wedding band would usually sit. “Yes. My brother had come to visit us, and then he was called away on a case. This often happens; it is usual that he will not contact us for some weeks at a time and indeed there have been years when we only hear from him perhaps two or three times. This case in particular seemed to frustrate him, but of course behind the Curtain there is nothing one can do besides stew. He had been gone for three weeks when we received news that he was missing.”
The fact this fic is probably going to end up being like ten thousand words haunts me.
