starry nights, wheat fields, yellow houses, this
Tournesols. Yuuko muses. Holic drabble written for 31_days, Sept. 1 ~ don't think your life didn't matter.
The woman's eyes are green, her stomach is swollen, and she has the kind of face that should always be smiling - a beautiful tripwire of a smile, the kind that runs high on tension, that gleams brightest when fired with desperation.
She isn't ( Read more... )
The woman's eyes are green, her stomach is swollen, and she has the kind of face that should always be smiling - a beautiful tripwire of a smile, the kind that runs high on tension, that gleams brightest when fired with desperation.
She isn't ( Read more... )
Comments 2
Himawari is a Van Gogh sunflower. Holy carp, that makes so much sense. Wow.
Mmm, and I like how she got her mom's smile, if only so we could see that brilliant description of it in this snapshot.
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This drabble was written around that smile. No lie.
Oh, and I read the first book of the Blackbird 'verse? And it made my heart go melty at the edges, like a good grilled cheese sandwich. It was this description that got me: ...It wasn't right out where everyone could see, but he could feel it lingering around the corners of his mouth all afternoon and evening, fizzing inside him like a sweet cold drink, until he finally slept. I love that air of regret colouring the end of it, the fragility of their "moments". I really could see all of that happening out of the corner of the camera's eye. :D
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