(no subject)
Title: Staring Into the Sun
Fandom: Original
Genre: General
Word Count: 207
Notes: For a mouseai challenge.
Summary: Short. Kind of bitter.
When I was a little boy my mother told me never to stare into the sun.
So once when I was six, I did. I remember it was almost disappointing, in a way; an anticlimax. I had expected that something terrible would happen, perhaps that the world would come to an end, but the only result was sore eyes and a headache for the rest of the day. I saw afterimages everywhere I looked, as if the whole world were a negative print of itself. I didn't think to ask why you shouldn't look into the sun until I was 8; my mother told me that if you stare too long you'll go blind.
That was the first time I really began to realise that my mother didn't know everything. Somehow, it shook my faith in the very universe.
As I grew older, I eventually learned the difference between fables intended to make one eat their crusts and actual truth. When my mother lied to me, it wasn't through ignorance. It wasn't because she liked lying to me, either. It was because she thought by deceiving me she could protect me. A noble reason, one might think. Maybe she was justified.
Nevertheless, I hate being lied to.
Fandom: Original
Genre: General
Word Count: 207
Notes: For a mouseai challenge.
Summary: Short. Kind of bitter.
When I was a little boy my mother told me never to stare into the sun.
So once when I was six, I did. I remember it was almost disappointing, in a way; an anticlimax. I had expected that something terrible would happen, perhaps that the world would come to an end, but the only result was sore eyes and a headache for the rest of the day. I saw afterimages everywhere I looked, as if the whole world were a negative print of itself. I didn't think to ask why you shouldn't look into the sun until I was 8; my mother told me that if you stare too long you'll go blind.
That was the first time I really began to realise that my mother didn't know everything. Somehow, it shook my faith in the very universe.
As I grew older, I eventually learned the difference between fables intended to make one eat their crusts and actual truth. When my mother lied to me, it wasn't through ignorance. It wasn't because she liked lying to me, either. It was because she thought by deceiving me she could protect me. A noble reason, one might think. Maybe she was justified.
Nevertheless, I hate being lied to.