A ficlet about skies, sailors, and fate. No slash, unfortunately
“Look, Guil, the sky is red. Isn’t it pretty?”
“That would explain why it’s too dark to be day.”
“Or too light for night.”
“Or too light for night,” he agrees.
“It’s like that old saying: Red sky by night, sailor’s delight. That’s good luck, isn’t it?”
“But what if we’re not the sailors? After all, Hamlet’s in charge of this ship.”
“Okay then. I didn’t want to say the second part in case we were supposed to be the sailors, but it goes like this: Red sky in morning, sailor’s warning.”
“Now that sounds something more like what the universe would say to us. If it were inclined to give us anything at all.”
“Why are you so gloomy all the time? If it were night, there could be something delightful for everyone involved.”
“Not according to the Player. There’s got to be blood somewhere or there’s no story.”
“I don’t need a story - I have you. Let’s just say that the sun is all the blood we need and get on with our lives.”
“That sounds fair.”
I have some longer ones in the works, but I don't know if I have their voices right. If anyone wants to beta, that would be great.