Ｔｈｅ Ｌｉｔｔｌｅ Ｄｒｉｆｔｗｏｏｄ Ｈｏｕｓｅ- ａ ｔｒｙｏｕｔ ｔｈｒｅａｄ ｆｏｒ ＪＢＤ #575

[zakki]

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The title basically says all- here is where I shall link segments of my form to, so as to save space on the final product. Please don't post until I say you can, and whatever you do don't steal or take or claim as your own.
Let's get started, shall we? <3

[zakki]

Q and A with smileygirl99

Q: What does Marika mean?
A: Marika means “quiet and careful” in Maori

Q: Why did you choose that name?
A: I wanted a name that meant quiet, shy or careful, so I tried out some of those words on a baby name site and Marika was one that came up. I liked it’s exotic sound, so that’s why I chose it

Q: Where does her nickname come from?
A: In the little profile the baby naming site gave me for the name “Marika”, there was a list of nicknames. One of these was ‘Mai”, which I liked. It’s origin is Swedish

Q: What about her middle name?
A: I thought I should give her one, and “Josephine” was the first one that popped into my head. Apparently it means “Variation of Joseph, 'God shall add” and originates from Hebrew

Q: Why “Rendezvous”?
A: I was pondering last names, and then I thought of rendezvous, which means “a meeting with someone that is arranged for a particular time and place and that is often secret”. I couldn’t remember it’s definition when I chose it, but I liked it anyway, so that was my final decision

[zakki]

An acrostic by me

M eticulous, careful
A pprehensive, shy
R omance reader
I nobtrusive, quiet
K ind
A vid blusher

[zakki]

A little paragraph by me

Marika’s favourite colour is the dark magenta in her eyes; 43091F. Made up of 125 red, 28 green and 69 blue, and sitting at 224 hue, 126 sat and 71 lum, it to her has the perfect mix of purple and pink, darkened beautifully and she is happy to have it in her eyes. The heart on her silver chain that she always wears around her neck is the same colour, too. The other shade of pink in her eyes, which happens to be her second favourite colour, is the same shade of the pink grapefruit drink that she absolutely adores, and can always be found sipping from it while sitting in her window seat, reading a book of love poems and blushing. One of her favourite things to do is to read, and you can often find her lost inside a book, most often romance, and her favourite scent is coincidently of rose.

154 words

[zakki]

A delivery- story by me

You squint up at the house, comparing what’s written on you piece of paper to the address stated on the letterbox. Sure enough, it matches; 298b Fosters Lane. You walk down the pebbled pathway and ring the doorbell, which gives off a high, fairy-like sound. There’s a sound of rustling book pages from above, and a head sticks out the window.
“Package for a …. M. Rendezvous?” you question, holding up the parcel for the girl to see. She nods, and a couple of moments later the door opens and she swiftly descends the rope ladder.
“Th-that’s me,” she says shyly.
“Have a pen?” you ask, revealing the clipboard she was required to sign.
She nods, pointing to the little driftwood house nestled in the branches of the tree above, then gestures for you to come up. Standing on the balcony after the awkward climb up with the parcel, you admire the beautiful ocean view while she fiddles with the brass doorknob. With a “click” you’re let inside, and you wander to the centre of the bookshelves circling the room while she searches through a drawer in the little kitchenette for a pen.
You spot the window seat with the abandoned book and pink drink shimmering in the sunlight, and are wondering what it might be when you feel a tap on your shoulder. She’s back, smelling of roses and holding a pen and a pair of scissors. She signs her name with the pen, which you notice is engraved with the name “Marika”. How nice. She slices open the parcel and pulls out two thick volumes, which she adds to the shelves which you realise all carry romance novels and poetry. She gives a small smile and leads you back down the ladder, through the –word– branches to your van. You get in and start the engine as she thanks you and waves goodbye, and as you check in the rear vision mirror when you reach the end of the street, you can just see her back in her window seat, reading away again.

345 words

[zakki]

A poem by me

On the first of July,
In 1995,
A beautiful girl was born.
Her parents,
So loving,
Were Sophie and Lament,
They gave her everything
A little girl could want.

Her toddler years,
At the size of a cat,
Were admittedly
A bit more of a struggle
Money was tight
And her parents, they were starting
To fight.

Arguing and arguing
Yet Mai was oblivious
She was, only five
Which made a big difference.

The teenage years,
Her parents had split
Her belongings,
Were shipped
Back and forth
Each month,
From England to New Zealand
She would be shunt.

School was average
Being shy, closed off,
Meant most leaved her alone
Which was all she could want.

Sitting in the far corner of the oval
Reading her book
When somebody came
Her hands, they shook.
Jumpy around strangers,
That’s what she was.
So, they left her
Just because

When she reached of age
She moved away
To her own little house
By the shore.
Yet, that is
Another story in itself.
Perhaps,
For another day.

174 words

[zakki]

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One last reserve <3

[zakki]

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Now, you may post if you wish <3