I like writing. I'd forgotten that.
So, I got home from work this morning and found that somewhere on my walk, a bunny had attached it self to my brain. Go figure.
This is the next part in my PRJF series Roundabout. It's wretchedly short, but then again it was a very small bunny. I do not own these characters so please if you are a legal person, do not sue me.
However if you'd like you can
Contemplation
#13 - loss
R.J. is not entirely certain that there is, in fact, a hell.
To be fair, he is also undecided on the factual qualities of heaven.
R.J. believes in life, in love, in friendship, family, loyalty, and in doing the right thing. He does his best to save the planet, and be a friend to all creatures, and he has a vague sense of guilt over still being an omnivore. However the month that he spent as a vegan… well, the less said the better.
That was the first time he’d ever felt his control of the wolf slipping.
His control has gotten considerably better since then, and R.J. makes a quiet effort to eat at least a little meat everyday. He also believes that a little caution never hurt anybody.
So entering a his own brightly lit kitchen, with the smell of coffee in the air, and the warm weight of Casey a phantom against his arms should not in anyway be daunting, or ominous. R.J. is the Wolf Ranger. He’s fought multiple external enemies (including a disturbingly tentacled hyena) and his own internal self. He has faith again, and Casey to thank for it’s return. His father (wherever Dai Shi has him) is fine, if he weren’t R.J. would know. He’d know.
Of course, that fact had never been in question. If he’d felt even a moment of doubt in his father’s ability to persevere, his cubs would have had a hell of a lot more to worry about than surliness, and a night time kata. It’s the feeling of helplessness that R.J. despises. The feeling that he should be doing something, doing something, that could find his father and the other masters just that little bit faster.
Casey helped him there. Casey, who refused to back down, or off. Who watched R.J. break in a way he hadn’t since his mother had died without judgment or pause. Casey who’d held him through the night, and kept all bad things at bay. Casey, his mate. R.J. smiles to himself at the memory of Casey that is only moments old. A Casey that is sleep-tousled, and smiling, and warm. R.J. is determined to make many more variations on that memory.
Today is going to be a good day. R.J. can feel it. He is at peace with himself, and peace with oneself equals equanimity with the universe. Equanimity with the universe is all that is necessary for a peaceful existence in life.
A coffee cup with an utterly delicious scent pouring from it shoved unceremoniously under his nose breaks him from his contemplations of the glory of his small part of the universe.
Lily is holding out a coffee cup with a very, very small grin, and very, very bright eyes.
R.J. feels his hold on equanimity slip from of his grasp like a fish.
“Is there any possibility of bacon this morning?”
So, yeah. There ya go. ^_^
This is the next part in my PRJF series Roundabout. It's wretchedly short, but then again it was a very small bunny. I do not own these characters so please if you are a legal person, do not sue me.
However if you'd like you can
Contemplation
#13 - loss
R.J. is not entirely certain that there is, in fact, a hell.
To be fair, he is also undecided on the factual qualities of heaven.
R.J. believes in life, in love, in friendship, family, loyalty, and in doing the right thing. He does his best to save the planet, and be a friend to all creatures, and he has a vague sense of guilt over still being an omnivore. However the month that he spent as a vegan… well, the less said the better.
That was the first time he’d ever felt his control of the wolf slipping.
His control has gotten considerably better since then, and R.J. makes a quiet effort to eat at least a little meat everyday. He also believes that a little caution never hurt anybody.
So entering a his own brightly lit kitchen, with the smell of coffee in the air, and the warm weight of Casey a phantom against his arms should not in anyway be daunting, or ominous. R.J. is the Wolf Ranger. He’s fought multiple external enemies (including a disturbingly tentacled hyena) and his own internal self. He has faith again, and Casey to thank for it’s return. His father (wherever Dai Shi has him) is fine, if he weren’t R.J. would know. He’d know.
Of course, that fact had never been in question. If he’d felt even a moment of doubt in his father’s ability to persevere, his cubs would have had a hell of a lot more to worry about than surliness, and a night time kata. It’s the feeling of helplessness that R.J. despises. The feeling that he should be doing something, doing something, that could find his father and the other masters just that little bit faster.
Casey helped him there. Casey, who refused to back down, or off. Who watched R.J. break in a way he hadn’t since his mother had died without judgment or pause. Casey who’d held him through the night, and kept all bad things at bay. Casey, his mate. R.J. smiles to himself at the memory of Casey that is only moments old. A Casey that is sleep-tousled, and smiling, and warm. R.J. is determined to make many more variations on that memory.
Today is going to be a good day. R.J. can feel it. He is at peace with himself, and peace with oneself equals equanimity with the universe. Equanimity with the universe is all that is necessary for a peaceful existence in life.
A coffee cup with an utterly delicious scent pouring from it shoved unceremoniously under his nose breaks him from his contemplations of the glory of his small part of the universe.
Lily is holding out a coffee cup with a very, very small grin, and very, very bright eyes.
R.J. feels his hold on equanimity slip from of his grasp like a fish.
“Is there any possibility of bacon this morning?”
So, yeah. There ya go. ^_^