2 drabbles: Rome, Equilibrium
The in-flight entertainment on Qantas was good. I barely got any reading done, I was too busy watching movies:
Proof
Everything Is Illuminated
and The Constant Gardener (boy did I bawl).
But I did get two drabbles written.
Rome for fan_elune
Prompt: blood
The metal blinds him: the wide vicious swing of Pullo’s blunted sword, for just a second in the courtyard the sun blinds him and it all vanishes under a magnesic white brilliance, oblique light striking metal as the blade-edge divines unstoppably towards him, sparks ring in his ears, rattle in the base of his skull: at that point, whittled down to a will, forcing himself to keep moving, careening, hold steady those aching arms - defend; he will never be a great swordsman, but now don't look down don’t back away don’t ever resign, the Julii never give up, even when they should stumble; the ground is hard like a slap, scraping his side, unevenly broken with splinters and patchy with bloodstains, and one palm is already peeling skin and blood and scabs from yesterday, he plants that solidly to regain his footing; in his other hand, gripped tightly, with a will, his sword.
31 January 2006
~~~
Equilibrium for so_spiffed (It's sappy. For that, I am very sorry. *sad face*)
“Man is a small thing,/and the night is very large/and full of wonders.”
- Lord Dunsany, “The Laughter of the Gods”
He reads with his breath held. He reads with the knowledge that each word may be the last word he will ever read. He reads it like it is for the first time. He reads with an ache in his heart; a jab for every love he has never had the chance to meet and every sorrow he has never suffered as fully as he might. He reads with exultation welling still and silently like tears. He has never felt more vulnerable or more alive. He reads with the whole of his intent lying on the lines of verse in front of him, until Preston is there and he can’t ignore the near silent tread of his feet any more. He read aloud, that he might hold onto the sound.
31 January 2006
ETA: My hands are freezing and I can't type any more tonight, but I will catch up on my flist reading tomorrow.
Proof
Everything Is Illuminated
and The Constant Gardener (boy did I bawl).
But I did get two drabbles written.
Rome for fan_elune
Prompt: blood
The metal blinds him: the wide vicious swing of Pullo’s blunted sword, for just a second in the courtyard the sun blinds him and it all vanishes under a magnesic white brilliance, oblique light striking metal as the blade-edge divines unstoppably towards him, sparks ring in his ears, rattle in the base of his skull: at that point, whittled down to a will, forcing himself to keep moving, careening, hold steady those aching arms - defend; he will never be a great swordsman, but now don't look down don’t back away don’t ever resign, the Julii never give up, even when they should stumble; the ground is hard like a slap, scraping his side, unevenly broken with splinters and patchy with bloodstains, and one palm is already peeling skin and blood and scabs from yesterday, he plants that solidly to regain his footing; in his other hand, gripped tightly, with a will, his sword.
31 January 2006
~~~
Equilibrium for so_spiffed (It's sappy. For that, I am very sorry. *sad face*)
“Man is a small thing,/and the night is very large/and full of wonders.”
- Lord Dunsany, “The Laughter of the Gods”
He reads with his breath held. He reads with the knowledge that each word may be the last word he will ever read. He reads it like it is for the first time. He reads with an ache in his heart; a jab for every love he has never had the chance to meet and every sorrow he has never suffered as fully as he might. He reads with exultation welling still and silently like tears. He has never felt more vulnerable or more alive. He reads with the whole of his intent lying on the lines of verse in front of him, until Preston is there and he can’t ignore the near silent tread of his feet any more. He read aloud, that he might hold onto the sound.
31 January 2006
ETA: My hands are freezing and I can't type any more tonight, but I will catch up on my flist reading tomorrow.