Author's Note: These three drabbles are from the point of view of major characters rather than minor characters because they are a commission. Gina Dalfonzo of Dickensblog was doing a pledge drive to help raise money for the restoration of several of Dickens' manuscripts by the Victoria and Albert Museum, and my bit was to write drabbles certain pledges, based on the pledger's request. She requested I write anything about Arthur Clennam, Sydney Carton, and Eugene Wrayburn. [We share favorite characters, it appears.] So here they are:

Prompt #2: Middles

Arthur Clennam, Pet Meagles Little Dorrit


In Marseilles, the sun shone bright on a golden head and a sweet face, and Arthur Clennam wondered at his own happiness. His life was bounded by harshness, guilt in the past, uncertainty in the future, and here he was trapped between them, as he'd been his whole life, trapped in a world of someone else's making, hemmed by severity he could not understand, enslaved to a life he hated, with nothing to look forward to but more anger and more guilt. But today the sun shone in Marseilles on a bright head and bright eyes, and he was happy.

Prompt #5: Outsides

Sydney Carton, Lucie Manette, Two Cities

Always Outside

[Inspired by a scene in the 1935 Ronald Coleman movie; I'm not sure if it was in the book or not.]

He stands outside the house, snow falling on his hat and his hands. It's ridiculous, standing outside under a streetlamp in the cold and dark, but he supposes he's always been a bit ridiculous. It's certain he's always been outside. At university he hung about the outsides of things, allowed in momentarily to do someone else's work, then stumbling back out again. At the bar he's even outside his own practice, because it's Stryver's practice, though he does the work. And now he is outside her house, and if he has ever been contented being outside, he is content now.

Prompt #14: Green

Eugene Wrayburn, Our Mutual Friend


It's a serene world, a rhythmic one, rowing alone and leisurely down the river. The sound of the oars in the water and the feeling in the shoulders of pulling them are soothing in their repetition. The vivid countryside spreads out like a universe around him. He never thought he cared much for the country, but this slow process through it makes him see things he has never seen before, the way a tree silhouettes against the sky, the way the fields each have their own particular shade of green. He wonders if Lizzie would let him show her this.