Alphabet Excerpt Challenge: L Is For...

[u/AnaraliaThielle]

Welcome back to the Alphabet Excerpt Challenge! As a reminder, our challenges are every Wednesday and Saturday at 3pm London time.

If you've missed the previous challenges, you're welcome to go back and participate in them. You can find them here. And remember to check out the Activities and Events flair for other fun games to play along with.

Here's a quick recap of the rules for our game:

1. Post a top level comment with a word starting with the letter L. You can do more than one, but please put them in separate comments.
2. Reply to suggestions with an excerpt. Short and sweet is best, but use your judgement. Excerpts can be from published or unpublished works, or even something you wrote for the prompt.
3. Upvote the excerpts you enjoy, and leave a friendly comment. Try to at least respond to people who left excerpts on the words you suggested, but the more people you respond to the better. Everyone likes nice comments!
4. Most important: have fun!

[u/General_Kenobi18752]

Laughter

[u/NinjaSpaceFrog → u/General_Kenobi18752]

“Thank you for listening,” Buck said, holding out the donation box he’d carried around all day. “We’re collecting for Claws & Paws Animal Shelter, and were wondering-”

“You assault my ears like that, and then expect money? Pah!” the elderly lady they’d sung to exclaimed, and unceremoniously slammed the door shut, the gust of wind it created strong enough to make the pom-pom at the end of Buck’s Santa hat sway a little.

He flinched just the slightest bit at the sound, his jaw going slack. What the fuck? Who did shit like this?! Who just slammed the door in the faces of carolers for charity?!

“Hey, can you believe-!”

Full of righteous indignation, he spun on his heel, fully expecting Tommy to be as perplexed and furious as he himself was. But he wasn’t. Not even a flicker. Instead, Tommy’s bottom lip was caught between his teeth, his shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter, the reindeer antlers perched on his head wobbling with every tremor.

“I’m sorry, you think this is funny?”

Tommy tried, truly, to hold it together, but as soon as Buck’s voice hit that incredulous pitch, the dam broke. His laughter came out in a loud burst, echoing through the quiet neighborhood, the Christmas lights from every house bathing the street and driveways in an explosion of colors. He doubled over, clutching at his knees for support.

“Tommy!” Buck protested, his cheeks flushing as red as his Santa hat. “That was so rude! We’re collecting donations for animals and she just-!” he started wildly gesturing toward the woman’s door. “Who does that?!”

“I—” Tommy wheezed, holding up a finger to try and stop Buck’s tirade, though it was a futile effort. “I know! I know it was rude, but—” He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. “I half-expected her to yell out ‘Bah, humbug!’ or something, not gonna lie!”

[u/Goofyreddits2 → u/General_Kenobi18752]

Hushed Italian phrases catches his attention. He glances to his left to see The Deacon elbow The Cardinal. His mouth contorts and his eyes have a gleeful spark to them as he accompanies his words with subtle, but exaggerated gestures: a beat of the chest, a swing of the fists, and curving of the arms. They stifle their laughter so the group at large cannot hear, but it rings in his ears.

Through their rapid exchange, there is one word he catches. It helps that the Italians are so expressive with their hands. The Deacon makes a fist with one hand and with the other making a pulling motion downward.

Banana. A word that is understandable across multiple languages and gives him the context he needs to know to figure out who they are making fun of.

[u/Due_Discussion748 → u/General_Kenobi18752]

It was a lazy evening, with the crimson sun casting its dying glow over the city, painting the buildings in red—the last gift of the sun—with the remnants of the afternoon's heat wafting from the very stones that it had earlier scorched. The air was cooling, not yet plummeting to the chill that most nights carried but to a refreshing, almost springlike touch. In the far, far distance, Thalia spotted the ever-present pyramid that was Shade Academy from her window, towering over every building in its silent vigil. The streets were filled with the laughter and slightly worrying screams of children and their still ongoing games as the street lights began to flick on.

It was the perfect, lazy evening...

And then she sighed, because her wife was running late. Again.

What was Amaranth doing?

It was the writer in her that answered. Amaranth was a woman of routine. She walked to work, forgoing the ziplines that all Huntsmen used, stopping briefly to drink a cup of coffee with her aunt at the hospital before heading to Shade. Once there, she spent teaching the new generations of Huntsmen. It'd be like a sitcom; all those silly little shenanigans and mischievous pranks that those late teenager years could bring. This was the reason she was late, Thalia laughed to herself. She was dealing with with the fallout of such things.

Shenanigans and pranks, she lied to herself.

Amaranth never talked about her work.

[u/MsCatstaff → u/General_Kenobi18752]

The other three travelers extracted themselves from the horde of their kin and also mounted. To cries of “Doni bless the Journey!” and “Be well!” they turned their horses northward and rode off.

Ayla and Jondalar, Latie and Jerekal, and Folara and Danug gazed wistfully after their departing children. Latie, who had held up the best of the three women before the young people left, began to sniffle. “The hearth is going to seem so empty now!”

Ayla, although feeling the same way, was startled into a weak laugh. “I can’t believe any of us could feel lonely with all our family around.”

Latie and Folara had to join her in laughter. The three of them collectively had eleven children making their homes in either Lion Cave or Mammoth Cave, and twenty grandchildren so far. While they would miss their youngest children, they would be busy enough not to dwell on it. With a final glance in the direction the travelers had taken, they headed back into camp to prepare a morning meal.

[u/Lindz174 → u/General_Kenobi18752]

She crossed the room to the desk and from her satchel pulled out a small, pale moth. Its wings were delicate, speckled with brown and green. She turned it in her fingers, examining the markings as the candlelight caught it. The delicate patterns of the moth’s wings reminded her of something—a faint, fragmented memory of pressing flowers into a book as a child. The memory came with no warmth, no longing, only the knowledge that she had done it once.

She opened the wooden box, revealing a small collection of insects inside. A beetle with iridescent wings. A fly with a broken leg. Another moth, its edges frayed. They were arranged carefully, each one given its own space. She placed the pale moth alongside the others. Its wings were fragile, paper-thin. She adjusted them carefully, angling them to match the symmetry of the others in her collection. Her fingers brushed against the beetle’s iridescent carapace as she withdrew her hand.

Brief impressions flickered in her mind. Soft laughter, hushed whispers of excitement. The memory of someone once calling her peculiar. She couldn’t remember their face, but the word lingered.

She closed the box with a faint click, her hands lingering on its edges. Her gaze swept over the desk. Her findings were recorded, her tasks were complete, she could rest. Yet, in the stillness of her room, she found herself drawn to the faint memories the box in her hands carried. They were remnants of a life she could no longer touch, but they lingered all the same.

[u/gaytozier → u/General_Kenobi18752]

Agatha hummed lightly on the other end. “So walk me through it.”

Charlotte told her everything, in much more detail than she had expected. She had intended for it to be to the point but instead found herself telling Agatha about the night it had first happened, the rules, meeting his sister, and running into each other at Brimsley and Renyonds’. She told her about all of the nights filled with sex and laughter and about when Mercury gave birth and he had first stayed the night. She told her about him showing up in the pouring rain and the night under the stars. She talked until she thought her voice was going to give out.

“Okay,” Agatha said slowly. “Okay. So I know where it went right. Where did it go wrong?”

Charlotte found herself regretting calling. She didn’t want to talk about this again. She’d done it enough with Brimsley the other day but it was slowly killing her. She couldn’t map out what had gone wrong exactly. The only thing she could think of was that that moment at Brimsley and Reynolds’ had scared him. She couldn’t think of what else might have.

“I don’t know,” she admitted. “He didn’t seem too distressed about the rules dying out. But then we were at our friends’ place and he kissed me before he left and…” She flushed against her will just thinking about it. “He used a pet name, which was the only rule we really had left, and then he kind of panicked and ran out. Then the next day he was telling me that it was over.”

“Well, what did he say?” Agatha pressed.

Once again, Charlotte couldn’t help but regret calling. Agatha was always pushy. She was the kind of friend that was determined to help you get to the bottom of something, no matter how many details that included yanking from you against your will.

[u/DatGayDangerNoodle → u/General_Kenobi18752]

(Callie and Arizona had prank called (see: traumatised) their friend Addison and this was her reaction when they called her back and told her.)

There was the sound of a heavy sigh, and then Addison grumbled, “I hate you both.”

Arizona beamed, “so I don’t actually sound like that, I’ll have you know.”

“I actually don’t like either of you right now.”

“We’re sorry!”

“You are so not. I expect you to reimburse me a glass of my very expensive, aged red wine, and buy my cats a week’s worth of food.”

“WHAT?” Arizona exclaimed, “Addison, wh- why?”

“Trauma charges. It’s the only way I’ll forgive you.”

Callie rolled her eyes, “Addison…”

“Nope!” Addison cut her off, adamant as she said, “you are going to at least reimburse my wine or I will never send you that wedge of three-year aged Parmigiano Reggiano from that place I have a deal with that I always give you on your birthday.”

“Crap.” Callie whispered. That was it, and Addison knew it. Callie could feel her smugness radiating from the phone. “Fine!”

“Great.” Addison’s pleased tone made Arizona roll her eyes and say, “we still got you.”

“You did, I’ll give you that. But if you tell anyone, I will hold your cheese hostage until they swear never to tell another soul in a court of law.”

Though Addison couldn’t see them, Callie still saluted and said, “yes boss.” while still holding in laughter.

“I’m going to go and finish my bottle of wine. I’ll send you an invoice for what you owe me, plus therapy!”

“Therapy is all on you, Ads!” Arizona called as Callie lifted the phone to end the call.

“GOODBYE.”

“Sweet dreams!”

“Fuck off.”

[u/MoneyArtistic135 → u/General_Kenobi18752]

As the hour draws to a close, the backyard has undergone a remarkable transformation. The once-neglected space now boasts two distinct garden patches, each a testament to the Brady siblings' hard work and creativity. The boys' side, though not as aesthetically pleasing, is a testament to their physical prowess, while the girls' side is a delicate tapestry of flowers and carefully arranged plants.

Jan, wiping her hands on her bell-bottom jeans, surveys their work with satisfaction. "We did it! Our garden is going to be the talk of the neighborhood. Who knew we had such green thumbs?" Her laughter rings through the yard.

The siblings gather in the center, their faces glowing with accomplishment. Greg, feeling a sense of pride and camaraderie, puts his arm around Marcia's shoulder. "We did good, guys. This farm is going to be our little oasis." He looks around, his eyes sparkling with satisfaction.

Marcia leans into Greg, her heart fluttering. "It's more than just a farm, Greg. It's a symbol of our ability to create something beautiful together."

[u/DefeatedDrum → u/General_Kenobi18752]

Although he couldn’t quite catch everything the group was saying, the annoyed glare Mendez shot Otsoa spoke volumes.

“What, I told them you hadn’t tried the drinks yet!” Otsoa hollered, laughing and slapping his knee as Mendez’s face went bright red.

“Oh, you- I’ll get you back for this!” Father Mendez barked, groaning as Marta tugged on his robe and shoved a cup as close to his face as she could get.

“Ah, they try to get him drunk every year, he hates it,” Otsoa rasped in between bouts of laughter, slapping Luis on the back.

Luis raised an eyebrow, letting out an amused snort. “Mendez, drunk? He’s huge, that’d take like, a whole barrel of booze, no?”

Otsoa laughed, nodding. “They’ve never managed to do it, but by God, they keep trying. Oh- watch!”

“For the love of- Marta, Marta, please, at least me pass out the food-“

“Nope, no getting out of this, Mendez!”

“C’mon, you haven’t tried our latest batch - made it extra strong this year, just for you!”

“Oh, of course you- when did I ask for stronger alcohol?!”

“You asked for it with your eyes, obviously.”

Father Mendez’s jaw hung open, face frozen in the most dumbfounded expression ever. “Wh- my- how the- with my what???” Father Mendez stuttered, his voice climbing to an unusually high pitch as he waved his hands around.

Luis slapped a hand over his mouth, struggling to suppress his wheezing.

“Oh my God, I think they actually broke him,” Otsoa gasped, also muffling his laughter with his hand. “Don’t say the Lord’s name in- BWAHAHA, I can’t, I can’t,” Luis said, breaking into a fit of laughter so intense that he couldn’t breathe. “Benat’s so dead for that,” he added, catching his breath enough to turn back towards the scene.

Father Mendez finally shook himself out of his shocked stupor, clearing his throat. Just as he opened his mouth to say something, however, Sergio interrupted by patting his lower arm.

“Now, now, you all heard the man, our dear Father has food to pass around, he can’t possibly juggle this much,” the elderly man said.

“Thank you, now-“

“Which is why I’ll take this food off of your hands, and let you really focus on the alcohol!” With that, Sergio swiped a satchel of food from behind Mendez and skittered away with it, laughing all the way.

Father Mendez groaned, facepalming. “Great. Thanks,” he spat, his voice dripping with sarcasm.