Post by zbilja on Apr 13, 2009 17:39:43 GMT 10
Title: Green Silk
Rating: G
Prompt: #2 - Hauntings
Summary:What the innocence of forgetfulness can do to you. (Apologies:- I'm not even sure my three hundred and something words can even be clssified as a drabble. Sorry!)
It’s cold.
Dark.
It’s raining outside, too.
“Where’s Ilane, Kel? Please tell me where she’s gone!”
Keladry, crying, rests her wet chin on her hand; she can feel the edges of her eyes sting, and her throat is raw, but it’s going to be worse if she doesn’t say anything.
“She’s dead, Papa – gone.”
“No she’s not! I tell you! I saw her two minutes ago! Tell me where my wife’s gone, Kel!”
Keladry sighs. She can feel her shoulders sake unsteadily with the movement; maybe it was better not to say anything.
“She’s gone to the Isles, Papa.”
He seems to accept this.
“Oh, ok.”
Keladry’s father, with the later stages of dementia rocks back in his chair. He fails asleep not too long later, his age-spotted skin now rosy from the warmth of the blanket on his knees.
‘And sleep’s death-remedy…’ Kel thinks bitterly.
She can feel something cold poke their fingers into her belly; her stomach curdles unpleasantly.
The wind blows outside the dark window. A shutter slams open, the wild knocking makes her ears throb.
But before she gets off her stool to close it, there’s a moment when she’s afraid to turn around – there’s a clammy breeze on the back of her neck, like the one her mama used to blow on the back of her head when she had had a tantrum, and was crying in her room.
But she still turns around.
She closes the shutters - silently.
But before she draws the curtains, a flash of lightning slices down between the night – so bright, it’s almost green silk.
A bolt of green silk.
“Keladry?” Her fathers asks, shakily.
“Yes, Papa.” There is a new resilience in her voice.
“I’m glad you’re wearing your mother’s dress.”
“Thankyou… Papa.”
“That green silk looks beautiful on you – you look like Ilane.”
The fingers have gone.
And it’s stopped raining outside.
Rating: G
Prompt: #2 - Hauntings
Summary:What the innocence of forgetfulness can do to you. (Apologies:- I'm not even sure my three hundred and something words can even be clssified as a drabble. Sorry!)
It’s cold.
Dark.
It’s raining outside, too.
“Where’s Ilane, Kel? Please tell me where she’s gone!”
Keladry, crying, rests her wet chin on her hand; she can feel the edges of her eyes sting, and her throat is raw, but it’s going to be worse if she doesn’t say anything.
“She’s dead, Papa – gone.”
“No she’s not! I tell you! I saw her two minutes ago! Tell me where my wife’s gone, Kel!”
Keladry sighs. She can feel her shoulders sake unsteadily with the movement; maybe it was better not to say anything.
“She’s gone to the Isles, Papa.”
He seems to accept this.
“Oh, ok.”
Keladry’s father, with the later stages of dementia rocks back in his chair. He fails asleep not too long later, his age-spotted skin now rosy from the warmth of the blanket on his knees.
‘And sleep’s death-remedy…’ Kel thinks bitterly.
She can feel something cold poke their fingers into her belly; her stomach curdles unpleasantly.
The wind blows outside the dark window. A shutter slams open, the wild knocking makes her ears throb.
But before she gets off her stool to close it, there’s a moment when she’s afraid to turn around – there’s a clammy breeze on the back of her neck, like the one her mama used to blow on the back of her head when she had had a tantrum, and was crying in her room.
But she still turns around.
She closes the shutters - silently.
But before she draws the curtains, a flash of lightning slices down between the night – so bright, it’s almost green silk.
A bolt of green silk.
“Keladry?” Her fathers asks, shakily.
“Yes, Papa.” There is a new resilience in her voice.
“I’m glad you’re wearing your mother’s dress.”
“Thankyou… Papa.”
“That green silk looks beautiful on you – you look like Ilane.”
The fingers have gone.
And it’s stopped raining outside.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!