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writing_shadowsIn which I explore the images in my head of where Dey went.
Physically at least. Mentally not so much.
I made a promise
A battered VW camper van is parked by the beach front, looking lonely in the dawn light. The tide is in; and a few hardy souls are fishing for mackerel from the concrete blocks overhanging the crashing waves.
A girl wanders along the front, with a thermos in her hand; a bundled up figure in red hoodie and combats. She chats to a young fisherman and walks away with a bunch of gleaming fish dangling from her hand.
*********
I made a promise
There’s a picnic spot along the motorway; with a table and bench overlooking the sea. It’s cold and windy, but there’s a van parked slightly skewed on the gravel; and a camping stove perched on the table.
An age ago apple trees were planted in a tiny huddle. Normally they get ignored by people; and are left to the birds and squirrels. Today however there’s a bent branch as someone picks the ones at the very top of the tree.
*********
I made a promise
Brilliant green and scarlet fruits are piled up by the wheels of the van. Haphazardly arranged in a basket are squishy blue spheres, flecked with white spots, and a bowl contains luminous yellow fungal forms.
A figure comes through a pair of branches that have been bent and tied together at the top to create a makeshift doorway. A basket is hooked under one arm, almost spilling the pile of leaves that look almost black; and over her shoulder blood dripped from an animal that the world wouldn’t have recognised; a single twisted horn protruding from its nose.
Blood spatters, black pools of it as the figure butchers the carcase, strong hands pulling the ribcage apart with ease. The fur is rolled and stowed away and she washes her hands in a bottle of water before packing her hedge treasures into the van. As she drives away she eats a brilliant pink fruit, golden juice spilling down her mouth as she hit the indicator.
*********
I made a promise
The graveyard is quiet and empty when the car drives up and parks next to the camper van which is the sole occupant of the carpark. Two figures come out, stretching slightly as they look around.
In the distance is a flash of red fabric. The man nods to his female companion and they pick their way through the gravestones to where someone is kneeling and arranging roses in an urn.
She ignores the footsteps behind her; concentrating instead on arranging the flowers to her mother’s liking. She was a little surprised that after death her mother would still demand that they are arranged to her satisfaction, but she’s glad for the chance to explain to her parents what had happened; and why she hadn’t been to visit them before.
There is a cough behind her. She turns and sees two people standing together; one of the small ones, clad in purple and white; the other one of the great ones, standing with easy confidence. She bows quickly, hoping that he is not angry that she hadn’t realised he was here.
He asks questions in the language of the visitors; and she answers carefully. The small one speaks but the language is one she was beaten for using before, so she ignores her, worrying slightly that the small one is getting into trouble.
When they decide to leave she obediently follows. She stares out of the window as the small one starts to drive the car, unsure where they intend to go, but happy to be moving once more.
I made a promise. I will keep my promise. I made a promise.
Physically at least. Mentally not so much.
I made a promise
A battered VW camper van is parked by the beach front, looking lonely in the dawn light. The tide is in; and a few hardy souls are fishing for mackerel from the concrete blocks overhanging the crashing waves.
A girl wanders along the front, with a thermos in her hand; a bundled up figure in red hoodie and combats. She chats to a young fisherman and walks away with a bunch of gleaming fish dangling from her hand.
I made a promise
There’s a picnic spot along the motorway; with a table and bench overlooking the sea. It’s cold and windy, but there’s a van parked slightly skewed on the gravel; and a camping stove perched on the table.
An age ago apple trees were planted in a tiny huddle. Normally they get ignored by people; and are left to the birds and squirrels. Today however there’s a bent branch as someone picks the ones at the very top of the tree.
I made a promise
Brilliant green and scarlet fruits are piled up by the wheels of the van. Haphazardly arranged in a basket are squishy blue spheres, flecked with white spots, and a bowl contains luminous yellow fungal forms.
A figure comes through a pair of branches that have been bent and tied together at the top to create a makeshift doorway. A basket is hooked under one arm, almost spilling the pile of leaves that look almost black; and over her shoulder blood dripped from an animal that the world wouldn’t have recognised; a single twisted horn protruding from its nose.
Blood spatters, black pools of it as the figure butchers the carcase, strong hands pulling the ribcage apart with ease. The fur is rolled and stowed away and she washes her hands in a bottle of water before packing her hedge treasures into the van. As she drives away she eats a brilliant pink fruit, golden juice spilling down her mouth as she hit the indicator.
I made a promise
The graveyard is quiet and empty when the car drives up and parks next to the camper van which is the sole occupant of the carpark. Two figures come out, stretching slightly as they look around.
In the distance is a flash of red fabric. The man nods to his female companion and they pick their way through the gravestones to where someone is kneeling and arranging roses in an urn.
She ignores the footsteps behind her; concentrating instead on arranging the flowers to her mother’s liking. She was a little surprised that after death her mother would still demand that they are arranged to her satisfaction, but she’s glad for the chance to explain to her parents what had happened; and why she hadn’t been to visit them before.
There is a cough behind her. She turns and sees two people standing together; one of the small ones, clad in purple and white; the other one of the great ones, standing with easy confidence. She bows quickly, hoping that he is not angry that she hadn’t realised he was here.
He asks questions in the language of the visitors; and she answers carefully. The small one speaks but the language is one she was beaten for using before, so she ignores her, worrying slightly that the small one is getting into trouble.
When they decide to leave she obediently follows. She stares out of the window as the small one starts to drive the car, unsure where they intend to go, but happy to be moving once more.
I made a promise. I will keep my promise. I made a promise.
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no subject
Date: 2009-10-14 10:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-14 10:23 am (UTC)It's all going to be fine. One way or another.
no subject
Date: 2009-10-15 12:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-10-15 10:22 am (UTC)There are three very clear things in her head atm; she made a promise; she's been banished from London so can't go to Quasimodos; and she can't go home because Aria may have been forced to tell Darken Fel where it is. The fourth bit which was the need to visit her parents' grave has been resolved. She managed to hold together enough to do a couple of bits and then all three derangements kicked off big style.
Right now I'm in the middle of a scene - and good lord my dice hates me. I've bulleted so many times trying to get out of the derangements it's not funny.