PotC Oneshot: Fragile Things

[erinya]

Title: Fragile Things
Fandom: PotC
Disclaimer: Er, not mine.
Rating: PG
Warning: Character death and unremitting angst.
Summary: It's far too late for miracles or mercies, and not even the Devil's listening. Short (just a little over 400 words.)
Note: This is not in any way what I planned to write next, but I am sick, dosed up on far too much cold

Comments

[hereswith]

Beautiful and oh, so painful. All these years, and she never said it, 'til now. And the fact that he doesn't take her hand, because it seems like someone else is holding it, and ...if what we were was ever more than a dream of the sea, a flame, a bird in flight hurtling towards the vanishing point of a bright horizon. *sniffles, teary-eyed*

I hope you get better soon!

[erinya]

Thank you! I think my angst muse was feeling neglected, what with the classical farce muse getting all the attention lately.

[erinya]

Gaiman is one of my all-time favorites. I'm reading his new short story collection right now, the one from which I stole the title for this fic.

Thank you!

[sixpences]

Oh.

if what we were was ever more than a dream of the sea, a flame, a bird in flight hurtling towards the vanishing point of a bright horizon.

That is just... gah. Beautiful. This fic makes me hurty, but in a good way. I hope you feel better soon!

[erinya]

Thanks m'dear! Hurty in a good way was what I was aiming for (I think, this one more or less wrote itself.)

[zagzagael]

*applauds*

Nicely done - concise and yet says bucketloads!

[erinya]

Thank you so much. I was aiming for short and sharp.

[the_dala]

Oooooh. I like that. Lovely imagery, and works perfectly within the POV. Also, Neil Gaiman ::hearts::

[erinya]

I don't usually use the first person, but this required it--one of those times when the voice was so strong it seems like it did all the work for me. Thank you! And Neil is indeed of the awesome. He's one of my writing idols.