rec: jokes I may have misremembered by fahye
Story: Jokes I May Have Misremembered
Author: Fahye
Rating: All Ages
Word Count: 1682
Author's Summary: He travels and travels until the jetlag would have killed anyone else, until he can feel the time sickness shredding his sanity, and then he aims himself at the last clue he’s got and pulls back on the throttle.
Characters/Pairings: Jack Harkness
Warnings: None
Recced because: I've never seen an episode of Torchwood, but this story still grabbed me right away. It's a wonderful character study, literary and moody, and it has section breaks with titles taken from McSweeney's lists! What more could you ask for?
An excerpt:
The faint outline of the TARDIS is still in the air when Jack starts running through reactions in his head, trying each one on for size and then discarding it. He wonders if crying would help; decides that it wouldn’t. He wonders if praying is viable; decides that he probably hasn’t racked up enough good karma yet for it to be worthwhile, considering his former occupation, and anyway, he’s an atheist, and now he’s babbling away on the inside of his head because he can’t hear anything but the hiss of air filters and the raggedness of his own breath and he is very, very alone.
Jack, after some further consideration, decides to start with anger.
Author: Fahye
Rating: All Ages
Word Count: 1682
Author's Summary: He travels and travels until the jetlag would have killed anyone else, until he can feel the time sickness shredding his sanity, and then he aims himself at the last clue he’s got and pulls back on the throttle.
Characters/Pairings: Jack Harkness
Warnings: None
Recced because: I've never seen an episode of Torchwood, but this story still grabbed me right away. It's a wonderful character study, literary and moody, and it has section breaks with titles taken from McSweeney's lists! What more could you ask for?
An excerpt:
The faint outline of the TARDIS is still in the air when Jack starts running through reactions in his head, trying each one on for size and then discarding it. He wonders if crying would help; decides that it wouldn’t. He wonders if praying is viable; decides that he probably hasn’t racked up enough good karma yet for it to be worthwhile, considering his former occupation, and anyway, he’s an atheist, and now he’s babbling away on the inside of his head because he can’t hear anything but the hiss of air filters and the raggedness of his own breath and he is very, very alone.
Jack, after some further consideration, decides to start with anger.