florence - enola holmes

now, where to begin?

pluto projector - rex orange county

now, where to begin?

my twin sister, enola, and i are currently cycling the dirt path towards the train station.

*enola*

the first thing you need to know is that my mother named me enola. she insisted on it, in fact!
i know it's an unusual name, but my mother is rather a fan of word games. and enola spelled backwards reads, well, "alone."
although mother did name my sister florence!
which is a scrumptious name! and when her name is spelled backwards it's, well, "ecnerolf."
anywho,
she would continuously tell us...
"you'll do very well on your own."
and yet we were always together.
our father died when we were young. neither of us really remembered him.
and both our brothers left home soon after.
we barely remember them, either.
so then it was just the three of us, and it was wonderful.
she was not an ordinary mother.
she didn't teach us to string seashells or practice our embroidery.
even though i do believe florence does know how to string seashells...
we did different things.
reading, science, sports, all sorts of exercise, both physical... and mental.
although i don't recall ever seeing florence participate in the physical ones, she's never been a fan of violence. and i mean ever.
mother said we were free to do anything at ferndell...
...and be anyone.
she was our whole world,
besides each other of course.
but she didn't share everything with us.

-flashback-

florence and enola were minding their own business, walking down the hall, each reading a quite intriguing book.
they began to hear their mother's voice along with other murmurs.
"right, ladies, to conclude: our choices. the bankmen met, entangle herb, ellie houseman."
"ooh, marvelous." a woman says.
they two young girls lower their books, and avert their eyes to the room in which these voices were coming from. they give each other a small look and slowly approach the slightly opened door.
"are we all agreed? yes?" they hear their mother say.
"yes." one of the many woman replies.
"ellie houseman." their mother says again.
they peek in the small crack for only a second, before enola slowly pushes the door open, leaving room for both of them to walk in.
as the two girls enter the room, they see a group of about 8 or 9 women circling around a table filled with different papers, maps, pencils, and other magnificent things that intrigued them both.
the chatter ends with a small gasp from one of the woman, as the two young girls catch their eye.
everyone quickly looks over to the door to see them both.
a lady who was holding some sort of map, quickly puts it in a different position that doesn't allow florence, nor enola, to see it any longer.
as every woman in the room gives the two young girls a glare, their mother gets up from her spot around the table, and walks towards the door where both girls were still standing.

mother believed privacy was the highest virtue, and the one most frequently violated.

as their mother walks to them, the girls both blink and put on a face that shows more strength, and maturity.
as their mother reaches the door, she simply just shuts it in their faces

-end of flashback-

enola and i have made it quite far down the dirt path, as we both come to a sudden stop on our bicycles.