(no subject)
The tree is still blooming and it's still raining. The wind's lashed the branches, scattering hundreds of flowers onto the ground around it, and with a carpet of white it looks like an early winter has come to this little corner of the jungle. Which is almost funny, considering.
Tom has gone out to get food and fresh water and Mike's left with the girls on Eostre's wide bed, watching them nap fitfully and wondering if he might be able to sleep too. Last night he hadn't for more than an hour or so and when he'd woken his pillow had been wet. He doesn't know if Tom had slept. He thinks probably not.
He'd lain in this bed before with her warm and glowing with the banked-down coals of their sex and the rain against the side of the house like it is now. He'd lain in this bed with her and Tom next to him and listened to them breathing. It hurts so much to lie in this bed now but he's not sure where else he could go.
Flo's breath hitches in her sleep. He remembers a song he thinks he'd heard Eostre singing to them once when they'd been fussing, just a snatch of it. Her voice had been fairly tuneless, he knows that, but it had always been lovely to him.
I gave my love a cherry that has no stone,
I gave my love a chicken that has no bone,
I gave my love a ring that has no end,
I gave my love a baby with no crying
He sings it faintly under his breath, and Flo stills, but he's sure it must be a coincidence.
Tom has gone out to get food and fresh water and Mike's left with the girls on Eostre's wide bed, watching them nap fitfully and wondering if he might be able to sleep too. Last night he hadn't for more than an hour or so and when he'd woken his pillow had been wet. He doesn't know if Tom had slept. He thinks probably not.
He'd lain in this bed before with her warm and glowing with the banked-down coals of their sex and the rain against the side of the house like it is now. He'd lain in this bed with her and Tom next to him and listened to them breathing. It hurts so much to lie in this bed now but he's not sure where else he could go.
Flo's breath hitches in her sleep. He remembers a song he thinks he'd heard Eostre singing to them once when they'd been fussing, just a snatch of it. Her voice had been fairly tuneless, he knows that, but it had always been lovely to him.
I gave my love a cherry that has no stone,
I gave my love a chicken that has no bone,
I gave my love a ring that has no end,
I gave my love a baby with no crying
He sings it faintly under his breath, and Flo stills, but he's sure it must be a coincidence.