I am so sorry about how long it took me to release this chapter! I have fallen so behind on writing recently :,) I think I'm finally pulling my act together now though so expect some sort of biweekly routine hopefullyyy
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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
THURSDAY, AUGUST 28, 1969
Alexandria had had an enlightening conversation with Kathleen just a few days ago. She had been down and depressed because a meeting with her editor had ended sour and with a threat to release her if she didn't, "pull it together and get something written that was worth anyone's time," so the two had had just a few sips of wine (that ended up with Kathleen having to call George to pick Alexandria up because she was drunk and whiny), and Kathleen had suggested "getting back to her roots".
Alexandria had been confused at first because she didn't understand what that could mean, but Kathleen had gratefully clarified that all she meant was that Alexandria could go back to a simpler time and remind herself of why she started writing at all. Her troubles in the present clearly weren't helping, so why not go back before those troubles arose?
The next morning, Alexandria was miserably hungover, but as soon as George gave her the medicine that he knew always helped her, she immediately crawled up into the attic and fished around for the box that held all of her writings from when she was a teenager. They were completely awful, and she barely recognized them as her own when she observed the unfortunate writing style she had written them in, but she'd never had the heart to throw them away. They simply meant too much to her.
It wasn't long before she came across the lengthy novel that she had written during and about her relationship with Paul. She scoffed at the downright comical nature of teenage drama, but she also smiled at the memories of this time in her life. Despite how confusing it felt back then, in hindsight, it was probably the simplest time she could remember.
So she sat up in the attic and read right through three lengthy chapters while George searched everywhere for her downstairs. He'd spent the morning tidying up around the house. They'd done the bulk of their monthly cleaning yesterday, but George had left his wife to sleep off her hangover while he put the last finishing touches on their job.
He had returned to the bedroom with the intent to lay down with her for a bit before they finished packing for a trip the the Isle of Wight festival they were embarking on later this evening, but he was surprised to find her gone.
He walked all over the house until he saw that the attic was open. Then, once he knew she was up there, and just to have a little harmless fun, he walked over and folded the ladder up quietly before closing the door. Then, he leaned against the wall and waited to see if she would notice.
Alexandria heard the door close as soon as George closed it, and she turned. It was then that she realized she was very near to the end of the third chapter in her younger self's novel. She finished it up and then turned, crawling over to the closed door and knocking against the wood.
