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rainbowfic2012-04-27 04:03 pm
bookblather) wrote in rainbowfic2012-04-27 04:03 pm
Tractor Red 12: Stay
Author: Kat
Title: Stay
Story: In the Heart:
Colors: Tractor red 12 (old hound dog) with Nikki's paint-by-numbers (People always know where to find Aaron.)
Supplies and Materials: Miniature, eraser (apocalypse AU), acrylic (life altering situations), watercolors (write a story about the end of the world that takes place in a coffee shop), stain ("whereof one cannot speak thereof one must be silent.” - Ludwig Wittgenstein, 1922), beading wire (hikers huddled around a fire), glitter (coffee).
Word Count: 100.
Rating: PG.
Summary: Aaron stays.
Warnings: lots of unspecific, off-screen death via disease.
Notes: Look at that, last tractor red. Don't worry, the fairy tale is still coming tonight. And is happier.
The world was ending, and still everyone knew where to find him.
Not that he was hiding. The coffeeshop he'd claimed was neutral ground, even to the scavengers. Every morning he made coffee and waited, and they came-- children mostly, orphaned by the disease, abandoned by the world. He cared for them because no one else would, because most of them were dying, and still they needed someone.
He never caught the disease. His family died around him, the children breathed their last, and he still lived.
He thought, making his morning coffee, that he lived because they needed him.
Title: Stay
Story: In the Heart:
Colors: Tractor red 12 (old hound dog) with Nikki's paint-by-numbers (People always know where to find Aaron.)
Supplies and Materials: Miniature, eraser (apocalypse AU), acrylic (life altering situations), watercolors (write a story about the end of the world that takes place in a coffee shop), stain ("whereof one cannot speak thereof one must be silent.” - Ludwig Wittgenstein, 1922), beading wire (hikers huddled around a fire), glitter (coffee).
Word Count: 100.
Rating: PG.
Summary: Aaron stays.
Warnings: lots of unspecific, off-screen death via disease.
Notes: Look at that, last tractor red. Don't worry, the fairy tale is still coming tonight. And is happier.
The world was ending, and still everyone knew where to find him.
Not that he was hiding. The coffeeshop he'd claimed was neutral ground, even to the scavengers. Every morning he made coffee and waited, and they came-- children mostly, orphaned by the disease, abandoned by the world. He cared for them because no one else would, because most of them were dying, and still they needed someone.
He never caught the disease. His family died around him, the children breathed their last, and he still lived.
He thought, making his morning coffee, that he lived because they needed him.
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Thank you.
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Thank you.
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Thank you.
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It is beautiful, in its own haunting way.
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Thank you!