(no subject)
Challenge: [240] Ocean
Title: Odessa
Word Count: 335
Notes: Kind of strange.
Kairi isn't sure if it's the chocolate cake she ate-secretly, in the dark, over the kitchen stove-just before sleeping, or if she's having this dream because her life finally feels quiet.
She's standing on their island, on the beach, and it's all real enough that she can feel sand between her toes and a draft through her nightdress. She's looking at a cluster of rocks just offshore, close enough that she can see clearly their sharp, jagged outlines and the angry froth of seawater around them. They are as dark as the night sky over her head, but the soft sheen of moonlight, like fine mist over everything, reveals them.
And there is a woman, or something like one. She is swimming-she must be, because Kairi remembers the depth of that water-and she is throwing herself against the rocks.
"Hey!" The cry comes unbidden from Kairi's mouth. Her heart is thumping faintly but quickly beneath her sternum, which she presses a hand against in a familiar gesture. (Sometimes, even so many years later, she has to be sure that everything is still where it should be.) "Hey..." Her voice trails into a sigh, and something cold grips her throat.
The woman has stilled, has looked up, and Kairi's own eyes, wide and without the crows' feet she's grown used to, are staring back at her. Her mouth moves slowly.
She wakes with a start, jolts upright, and looks at her weathered hands against her bedspread. The room is quiet, but her heart is loud in her ears and fierce under her palm when she presses it against her chest. The house creaks and the man lying next to her-his hair is not brown and his hair is not silver-snores softly.
If she closes her eyes she can still smell the sea, still feel the weight of a word on those lips, closing softly around it in the dark.
She falls back against the bed, and dares not repeat it.
Title: Odessa
Word Count: 335
Notes: Kind of strange.
Kairi isn't sure if it's the chocolate cake she ate-secretly, in the dark, over the kitchen stove-just before sleeping, or if she's having this dream because her life finally feels quiet.
She's standing on their island, on the beach, and it's all real enough that she can feel sand between her toes and a draft through her nightdress. She's looking at a cluster of rocks just offshore, close enough that she can see clearly their sharp, jagged outlines and the angry froth of seawater around them. They are as dark as the night sky over her head, but the soft sheen of moonlight, like fine mist over everything, reveals them.
And there is a woman, or something like one. She is swimming-she must be, because Kairi remembers the depth of that water-and she is throwing herself against the rocks.
"Hey!" The cry comes unbidden from Kairi's mouth. Her heart is thumping faintly but quickly beneath her sternum, which she presses a hand against in a familiar gesture. (Sometimes, even so many years later, she has to be sure that everything is still where it should be.) "Hey..." Her voice trails into a sigh, and something cold grips her throat.
The woman has stilled, has looked up, and Kairi's own eyes, wide and without the crows' feet she's grown used to, are staring back at her. Her mouth moves slowly.
She wakes with a start, jolts upright, and looks at her weathered hands against her bedspread. The room is quiet, but her heart is loud in her ears and fierce under her palm when she presses it against her chest. The house creaks and the man lying next to her-his hair is not brown and his hair is not silver-snores softly.
If she closes her eyes she can still smell the sea, still feel the weight of a word on those lips, closing softly around it in the dark.
She falls back against the bed, and dares not repeat it.