Strummin' my six-string

Week-days were unhappy for Rupert. Out of boredom, restlessness and worry, he had resumed his former occupation only a few weeks after Lucy entered Meestake School. He had quit a long ago, the moment he had returned to his home land.
In his youth, he had worked for years at the Mind Circus, playing with words, a tightrope walker of the Logos. Later, much later, the idea of settling down started to take root in the back of his head. When it had grown, he left the Mind Circus and moved to Southern land. A city by the sea crossed by a river of trees and flowers, a city inhabited by people of fire. He rented a flat, his own kingdom. Under the bleak light of the old lamp, he sat at the old desk and worked. He liked the new job. Cross-words. Not so different from the old one.
Then, one sunny morning, he saw her. One sunny, spring-scented morning, Rupert saw Luce. He followed her, mesmerized. She didn't see him, not until she moved to F. Land. Rupert had followed her.
Mesmerized.
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Wrong road to Avonlea

Lucy's lighthouse collapsed again next class. And the next. On Wednesday afternoon she still had only a few lines written for the essay. She looked around at her bed-room. It was nice, quite cosy for a boarding school. Quite cosy for outside F. Land. Her first moments at Meestake had been nerve-racking. All the calm she had gained the second she decided positively to give herself up had gone. Not even the trial and the judges had broken it. But the unknown of Meestake did. Her heart started to slow to a normal pace when she, after being led down long wide corridors and some stairs, saw her new bed-room and instantly noticed the one single bed. She muttered a fervent thank you to the Powers That Be (If They Really Are).
That Wednesday she was very aware of the fact that it was a privilege that could be as easily revoked. Lucy turned her attention to the paper on the desk. "Consequences of a collapse, by Lucy Favorleigh. It depends on the magnitude of the collapse and the previous state of the building, which often is related to the quality of the construction. Therefore consequences can be from minor damage, easily reparable, to total destruction."
"It has to be enough", she said to herself, "at least it's absolutely true."
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A miss is as good as a mile

On Monday, right after the morning break, there was Masonry. The class took place outside the main building, in the grounds next to the stables. Lucy sat at her place and stared at the cracked stones. Mr. Carter eyed her but said nothing nor interrupted her inmobile concentration. Carefully, Lucy picked them up one by one. Some had deep, neat fractures, others slight bruises. The touch under her fingers were of different kinds, rough, smooth, sharp.
She looked up, in the distance, trying to clear her mind. Something white moved in the orchard. A white cap. Then a face and the full figure of the nurse walking the path to the back door of the school. Lucy thought she could hear the nurse's heels tip top tip top. The stone in her hand fell. It broke with a smash.
The bell sounded. "Class, dismiss", said Mr. Carter, "work on your papers, ladies and gentlemen, remember they are due by Thursday."
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P.S. I love you

Lucy was tired. Tired of trying. Tired of failing. The damned sword grazing her head. She was running out of time.
If only she could start her lighthouse with brand-new stones! But no, bloody Mr. Carter forbade it! She knew the trick was to smoothe the old ones and reshape them, but she never did it right, the fractures in them were too deep. A few days earlier, Mr. Carter said she didn't dig enough. Lucy stuck her tongue out at him.
It was late. She wanted to sleep, but she was too tired to rest. Missing Rupert so much was stressful. When he was close she forgot she was failing him too. She had to sleep. She and Rupert had a date in Dream Land.
Lucy took a sheet of paper with the school letterhead and wrote
My love,
I'm trying.
Lots of kisses,
Lucy.
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What matters?

Lucy was sitting in a lonely corner of the library. She had been there for a long time, but the paper on the desk was still blank. Mr. Carter had given her an essay. Suposedly, it was going to help her building skills. Bloody Mr. Carter! That was why she was there, even if there weren't results yet.
Pouting, she took up her pen. Name five things you have to do before adding a stone. Lucy nibbled the pen while thinking. Nothing happened. She frowned, biting her tongue in concentration. Then, a slow smile blossomed on her face. Painstakingly, she wrote: 1. look at the stones already placed. 2. look again. 3. mend them. 4. mend them again. 5. look again.
Next class, Mr. Carter returned her paper with an C. But her lighthouse crashed down again. At the end of the class, Mr. Carter gave her another paper. Consequences of a collapse.
What matters?, she thought distressed.
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