Just a teaser, because I can, yeah!
I haven't written anything dark and introspective in a while... It's surprising how easy it was to slip back into the style after struggling so long on trying to make my writing more active fot the last chapter. ^^;;;
In any case, here's a little teaser for the next chapter of American Magic: Chapter 5 - Spitting in the Wind. I had originally wanted to title it 'Pissing in the Wind' but my sensibility thankfully caught up with me and I made it more audience friendly. Yeah. ^_^
American Magic: Chapter 5 - Spitting in the Wind
It’s useless, really, to struggle and yell at the wind. It’ll just keep on blowing, throwing all your pretty words back in your face. Didn’t anyone ever tell you the wind was deaf?
~*~
She was sitting there, silent and watching the shadows from the edge of the roof. Riley never did understand why she insisted on sitting so damn close to the edge. What was she trying to prove? Not even the great Robin Goodfellow could fly.
Then, again, it wasn’t like she’d have to. Someone would be there to catch her if she fell, no doubt about that. She wouldn’t even have to scream. One tiny little totter too far over, and -someone- would appear by her side to pull her back over. That was just how it was.
Riley felt disgust rising in the back of her throat because she knew, she just knew, that that someone was her.
She watched the little shadow leaning ever so precariously, and the disgust tasted like bile. It would be so easy to push her. Just the tiniest of shoves. And, really, if she was going to catch her, anyways, was it so wrong? She just wanted to see something, anything, wipe that smug look off her face. Fear seemed a little easy, really.
She was right behind her, now, staring at that black-clad back, the long, rope-like braid dangling loosely behind her, fading into the fabric of her robe.
Her hand reached out, slowly, as if the shadows were a tangible force that she had to push through. He skin glowed against the darkness of the small girl, and the image made her pause. There was no moon, tonight, and the stars didn’t shine very brightly this close to the city. Why was her skin so bright?
She looked back up from her hand and her breath caught in her throat, curled up in a tight ball with the disgust as impossibly dark eyes stared at her calmly over a shoulder.
“Is this why you were looking for me?” Robin Goodfellow asked, her voice quiet and calm and so damn untouchable.
Riley’s hand began to tremor, slightly, not moving from its position. Didn’t she realize what she had been about to do? What she could still do, actually. Didn’t she know? Wasn’t she even the slightest bit afraid?
“Seems a waste, really,” she continued, turning away from her and staring back out into the shadows. “Such a waste… At least put some effort into it, little star, or you’re never going to wake up.”
And, she was gone, a swift, fluid motion, pushing off the roof and melting seamlessly into the shadows below.
Effort. She wanted Riley’s effort, when she made none of her own?
Riley looked down at her hand, her too pale skin still glowing against the shadows surrounding it. The disgust she tasted wasn’t aimed at Robin, though.
Riley’s hand dropped down to her side and she walked to the edge, staring down into the void of night.
In the end, she hadn’t even made an effort to catch her.
~*~
In any case, here's a little teaser for the next chapter of American Magic: Chapter 5 - Spitting in the Wind. I had originally wanted to title it 'Pissing in the Wind' but my sensibility thankfully caught up with me and I made it more audience friendly. Yeah. ^_^
American Magic: Chapter 5 - Spitting in the Wind
It’s useless, really, to struggle and yell at the wind. It’ll just keep on blowing, throwing all your pretty words back in your face. Didn’t anyone ever tell you the wind was deaf?
~*~
She was sitting there, silent and watching the shadows from the edge of the roof. Riley never did understand why she insisted on sitting so damn close to the edge. What was she trying to prove? Not even the great Robin Goodfellow could fly.
Then, again, it wasn’t like she’d have to. Someone would be there to catch her if she fell, no doubt about that. She wouldn’t even have to scream. One tiny little totter too far over, and -someone- would appear by her side to pull her back over. That was just how it was.
Riley felt disgust rising in the back of her throat because she knew, she just knew, that that someone was her.
She watched the little shadow leaning ever so precariously, and the disgust tasted like bile. It would be so easy to push her. Just the tiniest of shoves. And, really, if she was going to catch her, anyways, was it so wrong? She just wanted to see something, anything, wipe that smug look off her face. Fear seemed a little easy, really.
She was right behind her, now, staring at that black-clad back, the long, rope-like braid dangling loosely behind her, fading into the fabric of her robe.
Her hand reached out, slowly, as if the shadows were a tangible force that she had to push through. He skin glowed against the darkness of the small girl, and the image made her pause. There was no moon, tonight, and the stars didn’t shine very brightly this close to the city. Why was her skin so bright?
She looked back up from her hand and her breath caught in her throat, curled up in a tight ball with the disgust as impossibly dark eyes stared at her calmly over a shoulder.
“Is this why you were looking for me?” Robin Goodfellow asked, her voice quiet and calm and so damn untouchable.
Riley’s hand began to tremor, slightly, not moving from its position. Didn’t she realize what she had been about to do? What she could still do, actually. Didn’t she know? Wasn’t she even the slightest bit afraid?
“Seems a waste, really,” she continued, turning away from her and staring back out into the shadows. “Such a waste… At least put some effort into it, little star, or you’re never going to wake up.”
And, she was gone, a swift, fluid motion, pushing off the roof and melting seamlessly into the shadows below.
Effort. She wanted Riley’s effort, when she made none of her own?
Riley looked down at her hand, her too pale skin still glowing against the shadows surrounding it. The disgust she tasted wasn’t aimed at Robin, though.
Riley’s hand dropped down to her side and she walked to the edge, staring down into the void of night.
In the end, she hadn’t even made an effort to catch her.
~*~