Originally written as a treat in the everywoman exchange, uploaded to AO3 for reveals on 30 June. Also on my website.
The Interviewer’s visits were far less frequent nowadays. How long had it been? Somehow something always seemed to come up. Time after time, she had put off coming today because tomorrow would do as just well—tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after that. This today, though … this particular today … she had no interview to conduct, no write-up to complete for her Editor, no must-watch TV, no party with friends, no date with a stranger new-met through a dating app. So, with no excuses left, she had finally decided that this was the day that she was going to go to the Community Clubhouse. (The “Community Clubhouse”? She wondered for a moment if that were still an appropriate term for the place.)
She prinked a bit in the mirror, freshened her lipstick, and straightened her skirt. There had been times when she’d arrived far more informally, even sometimes dressed in jeans when she’d just popped in for coffee and a chat. But it had been so long. She didn’t know who she’d find (or what she’d find) when she got there—or if (she felt a frisson) she even could get there. She realized suddenly that she was as nervous as she’d been the first time she’d slipped through the interfictional dimensions, sent by her Editor to talk to as many of Mary Renault’s characters as decided to come to their invited interviews.
Actually, she thought, today she was more nervous. That time, she had been venturing into the unknown. This time, she feared what she’d find.
Yes. It was time, and past time. With a final glance over her shoulder at her familiar apartment, she opened the door and … turned a corner.
( Read more... )