Finding the Dark
I reached up to the top of the gurney, feeling for the sheet that had once covered the body for politeness' sake, or at least to keep any of the others from looking at the things they didn't want to really see in the first place. Or...the last place...or at all. All I knew was that it purpose seemed to be concealment, and that suited me as much as mostly anything else had today.
Oh there were a few other elses tickling the back of my brain, but it couldn't seem to become anything more solid than a face, and a voice. I was loosing names again, things getting harder as they got simpler. Slipping the sheet around me, I marveled at the softness of it even as the odor that clung to it made me want to shrink away. As it always seemed to be, it was decision time. Was the sheet a need, or a want? Would it keep me going...surviving...living? Or was it just something to get in the way, the things that lead to trouble.
I think there had been some flowers once, far away and out of reach, and I had wanted them in a very uneeded way. They weren't about food or shelter, and they weren't anything close to nessecery. I went to far...and I was sure there was more to the story there I wasn't remembering. Was it mine? Or someone elses? I think it just might be a little, and a lot of both.
Ignoring the voices above me I curled into a smalled ball, hand reaching up to trace the smooth, metal surface above me. It didn't feel right, and it didn't look that way either. I was still much too exposed, all the air that rushed by making me nervous. I would just have to make due until I could find something else. Something...safer.
I began to scetch my plans into the sky, ignoring the way the silver plane reflected my face back at me.
"I need to get past all that," I answered myself, continuing to write. "I need to go further..."
((Open to Faith and Kennedy...and Wes, Lilah and Roger when they arrive))
Oh there were a few other elses tickling the back of my brain, but it couldn't seem to become anything more solid than a face, and a voice. I was loosing names again, things getting harder as they got simpler. Slipping the sheet around me, I marveled at the softness of it even as the odor that clung to it made me want to shrink away. As it always seemed to be, it was decision time. Was the sheet a need, or a want? Would it keep me going...surviving...living? Or was it just something to get in the way, the things that lead to trouble.
I think there had been some flowers once, far away and out of reach, and I had wanted them in a very uneeded way. They weren't about food or shelter, and they weren't anything close to nessecery. I went to far...and I was sure there was more to the story there I wasn't remembering. Was it mine? Or someone elses? I think it just might be a little, and a lot of both.
Ignoring the voices above me I curled into a smalled ball, hand reaching up to trace the smooth, metal surface above me. It didn't feel right, and it didn't look that way either. I was still much too exposed, all the air that rushed by making me nervous. I would just have to make due until I could find something else. Something...safer.
I began to scetch my plans into the sky, ignoring the way the silver plane reflected my face back at me.
"I need to get past all that," I answered myself, continuing to write. "I need to go further..."
((Open to Faith and Kennedy...and Wes, Lilah and Roger when they arrive))