Drabble: The Source (BSG; Sam/Leoben/Kara)
I just walked out of an Economics test 30 minutes before the time was up. The whole thing was only 70 min and it was 20 multiple choice. I'm not sure whether that's good or bad, but I was finished, what could I do? *sigh*
On the train home, as I was listening to "Mongolian Traditional Long Song" (mp3) performed by Ganbaatar Khongorzul of the Silk Road Ensemble, on repeat, I started this drabble. It's for transtempts, who gave me the prompt: "Sam is beginning to wonder about the properties of water." Spoilers up to "Guess What's Coming to Dinner".
Sam/Leoben/Kara. G. They find Earth.
When you go deep, following a winding river to its source,
you're soon bewildered, wandering a place beyond knowing.
- Hsieh Ling-Yun, 'Dwelling In The Mountains' [trans. David Hinton]
The Source
The women are feeding dry grasses to the fire, their voices rising in chorus with the plume of blue-grey smoke, while the wind bears it through the valley. A high, almost wordless song, existing for itself, wistful cries diving like birds becoming one with the sky. The air is cold ambrosia. You have never seen snow so blindingly pure, a land so beautiful.
'It's the life note of the mountains, calling its children home,' says Leoben, the Two who has stayed since the crash.
You know him by the delicate tattoo upon the side on his neck. Two fish, you thought when you first saw the design, until Kara corrected you: They're wings, Sam. Like ours. And you think now they might be both - and neither.
She comes up between the two of you on soundless bare feet. Her saffron-coloured sleeve reaches out, taking your hand in hers. 'They're happy we're here at last.'
19 May 2008
On the train home, as I was listening to "Mongolian Traditional Long Song" (mp3) performed by Ganbaatar Khongorzul of the Silk Road Ensemble, on repeat, I started this drabble. It's for transtempts, who gave me the prompt: "Sam is beginning to wonder about the properties of water." Spoilers up to "Guess What's Coming to Dinner".
Sam/Leoben/Kara. G. They find Earth.
When you go deep, following a winding river to its source,
you're soon bewildered, wandering a place beyond knowing.
- Hsieh Ling-Yun, 'Dwelling In The Mountains' [trans. David Hinton]
The Source
The women are feeding dry grasses to the fire, their voices rising in chorus with the plume of blue-grey smoke, while the wind bears it through the valley. A high, almost wordless song, existing for itself, wistful cries diving like birds becoming one with the sky. The air is cold ambrosia. You have never seen snow so blindingly pure, a land so beautiful.
'It's the life note of the mountains, calling its children home,' says Leoben, the Two who has stayed since the crash.
You know him by the delicate tattoo upon the side on his neck. Two fish, you thought when you first saw the design, until Kara corrected you: They're wings, Sam. Like ours. And you think now they might be both - and neither.
She comes up between the two of you on soundless bare feet. Her saffron-coloured sleeve reaches out, taking your hand in hers. 'They're happy we're here at last.'
19 May 2008