And the next dream
Back to first person for this. There's an almost snuggle and I think it shows some promise?
Not written the next bit yet, but know where it's going and the story starts to uplift in it (thankfully) I'm thinking two more parts depending how I feel tomorrow as to whether I get it done in one.
It is not going to last 9 months though! no. no. no. I can promise that.
No more tonight - we're having celebratory Pizza and a bottle of alcoholic beverage each (I'm in at 6 tomorrow :( ) and there may well be some tooshie wiggling ;)
oo, oo, oo *bounces* forgot to crow - payday and Sherlock dvd was reduced to a reasonable price so......elementary my dear flist ;)
Title : Wash it all Away
Wordcount : 656
Part : 3 of 7
Warning : angst, not particuarly cute - (HA - how often do I get to give that warning!) - still reading?
PREVIOUS - a Shiver by Day
Rain this heavy could not be natural. My body feels beaten, bruised from the onslaught. Hair slick and sticking to my skull. There is no shelter. The trees here are tall and branches to high and barren to offer aid. Towering overhead that all below are rendered tiny. Insignificant. I am the only wanderer in this storm driven landscape, the only lost soul left to seek.
Feet sliding in slime and body hitting rocks I struggle forward. Ever forward. The reason is lost and the must reach destination distant. I forget the purpose of this trek if there ever was one. Know not where or why I trudge on, what hope there is ahead. I know only that I must get there. Must battle on and not be left behind.
I don’t want to be left behind. Don’t leave me, here. I can’t go on. Can’t quit.. Existing is all that’s left to me. Too much else has dangers. You have to protect against dangers, wrap yourself in shields and stay safe. An island in a sea of circling Sharks.
The wind’s howl mocks me, slices through my thin clothing to expose my weakness. Leave me hunched sore under the falling rain. Thunder strikes. Heavy continuous beating though I saw no light. No lantern flash to lead me on. Only darkness.
I misread and feel myself fall. So often I stumble. Where no fallen leaves exist to pillow me, rocks rise jagged peaks in greeting. Rain beats on down, getting in my eyes ruthless as unshed tears. The thunder pounds again.
My last sight is of the moon. A wider crescent than on other nights, visible despite the deluge. It shines. Washed clean by rain and strangely know my name!
‘Nigel? Nigel! Can you hear me Nigel?’ The moon’s voice is familiar. Trusted, yet feared with intensity. Strange I can not place it.
** **** **
‘Nigel’
I wake in the bath. Sprawled ungainly with the shower directing it’s full stream into my blinking eyes. Ben stretches a long arm over my head to switch it off. I gaze for awhile at the shiny nickel shower head before it dawns on me that Ben is in my bathroom and that I should question why. I should cover up, not lay naked, exposed to his eyes. My body with it’s pale wan skin, the scars long healed yet livid on my flesh.
‘Landlord got me the key’ Ben speaks to calm himself ’I heard a bang through the wall and you wouldn’t answer’ he shouts something behind him, the words nonsensical noise that get an answer. ‘You must have slipped Nigel, knocked yourself out. Nigel?’
Not speaking, as the truth of his words is evident I allow him to help me up. Grimace at the aches and pains, welcome the warmth of the all covering towel. I curse the harshness of cruel rocks then startle and change the thought to the hard enamel bath side.
Pliant I barely feel the rub of towels drying me and I sink into the easy chair passive as can be. Sip tea, hot enough to burn my tongue and far too sweet to taste. Hum in the conversation spaces without registering the words. Get tucked into bed, still towelling adorned. The quilt is pulled up to tuck me in. Warm, snug comfort that brings the threat of sleep.
As I close my eyes a feel a flutter touch my forehead. A Butterfly soft kiss, it may be real or imagined. I’ve long imagined such fond touch, too often now to know if this is real.
The door is softly, softly closed. Closing me into darkness, and oh, oh how I’d rail against it. I would so love to scream and cry.
‘Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me’
My mouth shapes the plea, but I’m unable to give it voice. Ben is returned to his own rooms. I am again alone.
NEXT - Halfway Somewhere
x
Not written the next bit yet, but know where it's going and the story starts to uplift in it (thankfully) I'm thinking two more parts depending how I feel tomorrow as to whether I get it done in one.
It is not going to last 9 months though! no. no. no. I can promise that.
No more tonight - we're having celebratory Pizza and a bottle of alcoholic beverage each (I'm in at 6 tomorrow :( ) and there may well be some tooshie wiggling ;)
oo, oo, oo *bounces* forgot to crow - payday and Sherlock dvd was reduced to a reasonable price so......elementary my dear flist ;)
Title : Wash it all Away
Wordcount : 656
Part : 3 of 7
Warning : angst, not particuarly cute - (HA - how often do I get to give that warning!) - still reading?
PREVIOUS - a Shiver by Day
Rain this heavy could not be natural. My body feels beaten, bruised from the onslaught. Hair slick and sticking to my skull. There is no shelter. The trees here are tall and branches to high and barren to offer aid. Towering overhead that all below are rendered tiny. Insignificant. I am the only wanderer in this storm driven landscape, the only lost soul left to seek.
Feet sliding in slime and body hitting rocks I struggle forward. Ever forward. The reason is lost and the must reach destination distant. I forget the purpose of this trek if there ever was one. Know not where or why I trudge on, what hope there is ahead. I know only that I must get there. Must battle on and not be left behind.
I don’t want to be left behind. Don’t leave me, here. I can’t go on. Can’t quit.. Existing is all that’s left to me. Too much else has dangers. You have to protect against dangers, wrap yourself in shields and stay safe. An island in a sea of circling Sharks.
The wind’s howl mocks me, slices through my thin clothing to expose my weakness. Leave me hunched sore under the falling rain. Thunder strikes. Heavy continuous beating though I saw no light. No lantern flash to lead me on. Only darkness.
I misread and feel myself fall. So often I stumble. Where no fallen leaves exist to pillow me, rocks rise jagged peaks in greeting. Rain beats on down, getting in my eyes ruthless as unshed tears. The thunder pounds again.
My last sight is of the moon. A wider crescent than on other nights, visible despite the deluge. It shines. Washed clean by rain and strangely know my name!
‘Nigel? Nigel! Can you hear me Nigel?’ The moon’s voice is familiar. Trusted, yet feared with intensity. Strange I can not place it.
** **** **
‘Nigel’
I wake in the bath. Sprawled ungainly with the shower directing it’s full stream into my blinking eyes. Ben stretches a long arm over my head to switch it off. I gaze for awhile at the shiny nickel shower head before it dawns on me that Ben is in my bathroom and that I should question why. I should cover up, not lay naked, exposed to his eyes. My body with it’s pale wan skin, the scars long healed yet livid on my flesh.
‘Landlord got me the key’ Ben speaks to calm himself ’I heard a bang through the wall and you wouldn’t answer’ he shouts something behind him, the words nonsensical noise that get an answer. ‘You must have slipped Nigel, knocked yourself out. Nigel?’
Not speaking, as the truth of his words is evident I allow him to help me up. Grimace at the aches and pains, welcome the warmth of the all covering towel. I curse the harshness of cruel rocks then startle and change the thought to the hard enamel bath side.
Pliant I barely feel the rub of towels drying me and I sink into the easy chair passive as can be. Sip tea, hot enough to burn my tongue and far too sweet to taste. Hum in the conversation spaces without registering the words. Get tucked into bed, still towelling adorned. The quilt is pulled up to tuck me in. Warm, snug comfort that brings the threat of sleep.
As I close my eyes a feel a flutter touch my forehead. A Butterfly soft kiss, it may be real or imagined. I’ve long imagined such fond touch, too often now to know if this is real.
The door is softly, softly closed. Closing me into darkness, and oh, oh how I’d rail against it. I would so love to scream and cry.
‘Don’t leave me, please don’t leave me’
My mouth shapes the plea, but I’m unable to give it voice. Ben is returned to his own rooms. I am again alone.
NEXT - Halfway Somewhere
x