shadowsong26 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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rainbowfic2016-11-01 10:30 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2016-11-01 10:30 pm
Plant Party #41, Paprika #12
Name: shadowsong26
Story: tree
'Verse: Lux
Colors: Plant Party #41. Ficus sycomorus, Paprika #12. I'll be waiting, everlasting, like the sun.
Supplies and Materials: photography, fingerpainting (weird second-person thing?), graffiti (Trick or Treat), brush (gravid), yarn, glitter, glue ("However, you want to remain connected with the more profound issues that touch your heart now...Living in two worlds keeps you whole."))
Word Count: 327
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Simon
Warnings: References to memory loss and past sex.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. Last Plant Party!
every tree begins with a seed.
you know what the seed was--or you do when you remember, anyway; you find it in memories of ruth's hands on yours, her skin flush against yours, her mouth teasing yours open; memories of paradisiacal delight.
so small a thing, and it grew into something so...so...
you wake up, and you remember, and you go to the island your children and your children's children and your children's children's children built; the one they want you to call home.
(it isn't home. you're not sure you can have one anymore. you're not sure that would be allowed.)
but you go anyway, to see this tree you planted, centuries ago with the wife you loved, the wife who deserved so much better than you.
she should be the one gifted with this paradise. she should be the one watching the branches spread ever upward and outward. she should be the one to delight in the fruits of your vines, the vines that tied you two together for so brief a time.
this should all be hers.
instead, you are the immortal. you are the one who comes to the island your distant descendants call your home. you don't deserve it, you never have, but it's there for you anyway.
because this is the tree you planted; you and ruth, all those centuries ago.
and then you forget again, until the next time, and when you return the tree has new branches, and--
strange.
you had given up on this long ago, and it's hard to find, so hard to find in those first chaotic moments of awareness, after the angel's touch has faded; but as you watch your tree grow, as you watch the vines twist across the ages, still binding you to her...
at times, while it still doesn't feel like home, sitting in the shade of your tree on family island brings you close to paradise.
Story: tree
'Verse: Lux
Colors: Plant Party #41. Ficus sycomorus, Paprika #12. I'll be waiting, everlasting, like the sun.
Supplies and Materials: photography, fingerpainting (weird second-person thing?), graffiti (Trick or Treat), brush (gravid), yarn, glitter, glue ("However, you want to remain connected with the more profound issues that touch your heart now...Living in two worlds keeps you whole."))
Word Count: 327
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Simon
Warnings: References to memory loss and past sex.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. Last Plant Party!
every tree begins with a seed.
you know what the seed was--or you do when you remember, anyway; you find it in memories of ruth's hands on yours, her skin flush against yours, her mouth teasing yours open; memories of paradisiacal delight.
so small a thing, and it grew into something so...so...
you wake up, and you remember, and you go to the island your children and your children's children and your children's children's children built; the one they want you to call home.
(it isn't home. you're not sure you can have one anymore. you're not sure that would be allowed.)
but you go anyway, to see this tree you planted, centuries ago with the wife you loved, the wife who deserved so much better than you.
she should be the one gifted with this paradise. she should be the one watching the branches spread ever upward and outward. she should be the one to delight in the fruits of your vines, the vines that tied you two together for so brief a time.
this should all be hers.
instead, you are the immortal. you are the one who comes to the island your distant descendants call your home. you don't deserve it, you never have, but it's there for you anyway.
because this is the tree you planted; you and ruth, all those centuries ago.
and then you forget again, until the next time, and when you return the tree has new branches, and--
strange.
you had given up on this long ago, and it's hard to find, so hard to find in those first chaotic moments of awareness, after the angel's touch has faded; but as you watch your tree grow, as you watch the vines twist across the ages, still binding you to her...
at times, while it still doesn't feel like home, sitting in the shade of your tree on family island brings you close to paradise.
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