"Mr. Jim died, two weeks ago and he taught me how to pick cherries and I punched his daughter in the nose because she was mean. Mr. Jim was good. - Tori Amos, "Toodles Mr. Jim" - Bee-side from the "CALS" maxi single.
Myra Ellen Amos, now called Tori, sat in a dark lounge warming herself with a glass of good wine and a dose of good memories. She thought back to her days of "Fuck you. I can play Mozart." Those days as the youngest person ever accepted to Peabody. Those days on the cherry farm with Mr. Jim. Those were the best days.
Mr. Jim... Goddess, she couldn't even remember his first name now.... had been her favorite neighbor. She'd gone over there every day almosyt to pick those marashinos and drink that ginger ale.
There had been that conflict with his daughter. She was a stuck-up bitch who was a few years old than Tori who had told Tori that she wasn't good enough to come over. One day Tori said that was enough, backed up her fist and let fly to lang on Mr. Jim's daughter's nose. Splattered, swattered... Not a nice day for that little girl who had screamed and sent Mr. Jim running. Tori fondly recalled the anger in the older girl's eyes when Mr. Jim stood up for Tori rather than his daughter.
Filled with the warmth of happiness and red wine, she slid from her seat and joined her piano onstage. She situated herself on the bench in a way that was only hers, pressed her fingers to the keys she shared with no one, let loose a haunting laugh and began to sing.
~ Hanfic ~ Torific ~ Other Writings ~ Moffatts ~ The Babble Zone ~ Webmistress ~ Contact ~ Guestbook ~ Links ~ Cool Stuff ~ Updates List ~ Tori ~ Zac ~ Tay ~ Ike ~ Aspie's Fic ~ Fastimes At Moffatt High ~ Starstruck Fiction ~ HF.C ~ Home ~