Ilthit (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ilthit) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rainbowfic2020-08-12 03:01 pm
ilthit) wrote in rainbowfic2020-08-12 03:01 pm
Entry tags:
Grey #9: The Greyhound (Gloria Pearce)
Name: The Greyhound
Story: Gloria Pearce
Colors: Grey #5: Greyhound
Supplies and Styles: Frame
Word Count: 215
Rating: teen
Warnings: Reference to murder.
Summary: Sasha reminisces about her crush/friend Didi.
Notes: Crossposted onfemslashficlets .
The doors of the bus folded open before Sasha. The Greyhound always made Sasha think of Didi, even after all these years. A bus just like this—or maybe an older model, one of those that stopped in every little town from state to state—had picked her up somewhere in God’s forsake country and brought her to LA with a bag full of dreams. Brought her sparkling to Sasha’s city of sin, to her boarding house, and eventually to the same bar they both worked.
She’d thought Los Angeles would kill Didi in the end, but it had been her past, catching up to her, riding the same damn bus. Like locusts from the desert, because she’d dared to dream bigger than a small town husband and a backbreaking small town life.
Sasha didn’t want to remember that. Not the blood, not the hatred, and not Didi’s broken dreams.
Just Didi, full of life and too tender for this world. She had loved her in at least three different ways, and Didi had loved her back in one.
Why the hell did everything so precious have to be so damn breakable?
“You gettin’ in or what?”
She shot the driver a glare and stepped in.
This time it was Sasha who was going places.
Story: Gloria Pearce
Colors: Grey #5: Greyhound
Supplies and Styles: Frame
Word Count: 215
Rating: teen
Warnings: Reference to murder.
Summary: Sasha reminisces about her crush/friend Didi.
Notes: Crossposted on
femslashficlets .The doors of the bus folded open before Sasha. The Greyhound always made Sasha think of Didi, even after all these years. A bus just like this—or maybe an older model, one of those that stopped in every little town from state to state—had picked her up somewhere in God’s forsake country and brought her to LA with a bag full of dreams. Brought her sparkling to Sasha’s city of sin, to her boarding house, and eventually to the same bar they both worked.
She’d thought Los Angeles would kill Didi in the end, but it had been her past, catching up to her, riding the same damn bus. Like locusts from the desert, because she’d dared to dream bigger than a small town husband and a backbreaking small town life.
Sasha didn’t want to remember that. Not the blood, not the hatred, and not Didi’s broken dreams.
Just Didi, full of life and too tender for this world. She had loved her in at least three different ways, and Didi had loved her back in one.
Why the hell did everything so precious have to be so damn breakable?
“You gettin’ in or what?”
She shot the driver a glare and stepped in.
This time it was Sasha who was going places.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject