(Untitled)

[thenakedcupcake]

 a strange edge of air, Ten/Rose, Ten/Hannah. All ages. 904 words. Directly after Doomsday.
Seventy eight point nine percent nitrogen, twenty point nine five percent oxygen. One percent water vapor.

How much of this air is Rose?

Comments

[professor_spork]

Oh, Doctor. He just broke my heart. I love the aesthetic of this.

[thenakedcupcake]

Oh, thank you! It felt a little whimsical while I was writing it, and then visceral when I reread it, and in the end I hope it met in the middle. I'm glad you liked it! <3

[wareander]

I especially like this bit:

...she is a beacon he could see from galaxies away, from MK37 or Plutarch or Apple Orange 4800Q.

(But standing directly parallel, she is invisible.)

It's like a poem.

...she can feel bone deep how he needs her...

Nicely done!

[jessicaqueen]

I really liked this. Poor guy. Look how much he wants it to be her, even though he knows it can't be. Sad, but beautiful.

[yuvia]

So sweet and so beautiful.
And I'm completely in love with this: "He has to touch her, the warm spring air knows. The trees disagree, and the TARDIS sits blocks away, offering no opinion at all. "
Use to like your writing. I don't comment often, but I like your ways.