(no subject)
Title: Living In Metaphor
Rating: PG
Pairing: None, really, but if you lean that way and squint, you might see some Tessa/Dean
Summary: Even anthropormorphic personifications need some downtime. Tessa's an anthropormorphic person, shaped by thoughts and fears. This is her downtime.
Disclaimer: Trust me, if I own SPN, I would not be sitting here,writing this stuff. I;d be in the Bahamas. Ergo, I do not own SPN and made no profit off this.
Living In Metaphor
Tessa is a non-corporeal being made up of energy, whether spiritual, or of some other type, harnessed by will, at least on this plane. On other planes, where the world is shaped by thought, Tessa is a woman, or a dog, or a salmon, depending on who’s doing the thinking. Most of all, Tessa is frightening. Tessa is a gateway to the last, undiscovered country.
Most of all, Tessa is working.
Now, lacking corporeal form, Tessa lives in metaphor. Her earliest metaphor was a cloud, chaped by her earliest thoughts and as her thoughts evolved, so did her metaphor.
Tessa’s world has gone from being a collection of metaphorical particles to a nunnery in a metaphorical southern France. Most lately, or at least since the twenties, it’s been an office, a flatfoot’s little hole in the wall. There’s a metaphorical coffeepot and a metaphorical window, looking out into a beautiful, muddy little trash filled metaphorical street.
There’s a metaphorical cabinet, next to a metaphorical door. It’s alphabetically organized, jobs she hasn’t finished. Metaphorically speaking.
One of the files is at the bottom, in the fourth to last section. It’s the one she takes out after a long day, dusting it’s metaphorical cover and spreading all over her metaphor of a desk, metaphorical pictures and all. She reads all the notes, runs her metaphorical fingers over the pictures. She folds it back up and reads the name.
Winchester, D.
She smiles, every time, and puts it away. The one that got away, the one that she never really wanted anyhow, the one snatched from her grasp as he put himself into it.
Metaphorically speaking, of course.
Rating: PG
Pairing: None, really, but if you lean that way and squint, you might see some Tessa/Dean
Summary: Even anthropormorphic personifications need some downtime. Tessa's an anthropormorphic person, shaped by thoughts and fears. This is her downtime.
Disclaimer: Trust me, if I own SPN, I would not be sitting here,writing this stuff. I;d be in the Bahamas. Ergo, I do not own SPN and made no profit off this.
Living In Metaphor
Tessa is a non-corporeal being made up of energy, whether spiritual, or of some other type, harnessed by will, at least on this plane. On other planes, where the world is shaped by thought, Tessa is a woman, or a dog, or a salmon, depending on who’s doing the thinking. Most of all, Tessa is frightening. Tessa is a gateway to the last, undiscovered country.
Most of all, Tessa is working.
Now, lacking corporeal form, Tessa lives in metaphor. Her earliest metaphor was a cloud, chaped by her earliest thoughts and as her thoughts evolved, so did her metaphor.
Tessa’s world has gone from being a collection of metaphorical particles to a nunnery in a metaphorical southern France. Most lately, or at least since the twenties, it’s been an office, a flatfoot’s little hole in the wall. There’s a metaphorical coffeepot and a metaphorical window, looking out into a beautiful, muddy little trash filled metaphorical street.
There’s a metaphorical cabinet, next to a metaphorical door. It’s alphabetically organized, jobs she hasn’t finished. Metaphorically speaking.
One of the files is at the bottom, in the fourth to last section. It’s the one she takes out after a long day, dusting it’s metaphorical cover and spreading all over her metaphor of a desk, metaphorical pictures and all. She reads all the notes, runs her metaphorical fingers over the pictures. She folds it back up and reads the name.
Winchester, D.
She smiles, every time, and puts it away. The one that got away, the one that she never really wanted anyhow, the one snatched from her grasp as he put himself into it.
Metaphorically speaking, of course.