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rainbowfic2013-02-23 10:47 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2013-02-23 10:47 pm
Entry tags:
- author: shadowsong26 supreme whumpmaster,
- color: iceberg,
- color: ivory,
- color: russet,
- story: lux,
- style: miniature collection,
- style: paint-by-numbers,
- style: photography,
- style: pointillism,
- supply: canvas,
- supply: fabric,
- supply: glitter,
- supply: modeling clay,
- supply: novelty beads,
- supply: pastels,
- supply: seed beads,
- supply: stain,
- supply: yarn
Ivory #25, Iceberg #1, Russet #13
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Forgotten
'Verse: Lux
Colors: Ivory #25. So, before we end and then begin, we'll drink a toast to how it's been., Iceberg #1. snow, Russet #13. gossamer [Cobwebs.]
Supplies and Materials: pointillism, photography, miniature collection, paint-by-numbers (from Kelly), canvas, stain, fabric, modeling clay, pastels (my curreng gen + romance card G4 "courage"), seed beads, novelty beads, yarn, glitter
Word Count: 550
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Ruth
Warnings: Disappearance of a loved one
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. 'David' is known later in his life as Simon Gilboa.
At first, when Ruth comes home and David isn't there, she doesn't think anything of it--his things are all there, neatly organized the way he likes, except some papers to grade spread out on the coffee table; he probably forgot to tell her about an appointment or something.
She calls the police at eleven that night, trying to make them understand, take her seriously--her husband doesn't remember anything before ten years ago, and they still don't know why, something terrible could have happened--but since David's been missing for less than twenty-four hours, the police won't do anything.
Ruth puts up posters with his name, approximate age, height, and so on all over the neighborhood, all the places they went together that let her borrow bulletin board space, a copy on her blog; she asks their rabbi to make an announcement, and prays as hard as she can that someone, somewhere, will have seen him.
Days pass--her blog post circles around the internet, her friends try to offer her a shoulder to cry on, pass fliers out to everyone they know that she doesn't, her boss gives her all kinds of leeway, but there's no response, no call, no substantive lead.
She refuses to believe it when people suggest he left her for another woman.
At the end of the first week, Ruth wakes up in the middle of the night, positive she heard his footsteps on the landing, his keys clinking next to hers in the bowl by the door; she scrambles out of bed, trips over the blankets, ignores her split lip to go to the door--and there's nothing.
Her cousin buys her a dog after ten days--and the dog does ease her loneliness, if only by being something she can cuddle at night.
Ruth doesn't ever give up, not really, but after four weeks, other people have--or at least that's what it looks like to her; comments on her post about him dwindle, her friends tiptoe around the subject instead of asking how she's holding up, if there have been any new leads, so she quietly lets him go, and a little piece of her heart dies.
When she finds out she's pregnant, she starts feeling like a widow; when her son is born, she names him David.
Every so often she'll see someone who looks like him out of the corner of her eye, or an actor on TV who smiles like him, or hear a teacher who explains things to his students like he did, but she's invariably disappointed and it just drives home that she's all alone.
Sometimes, Ruth wonders if he left because it all came back to him, all the memories he'd lost; she wonders if he had a wife, another family, before her, and figured that his first wife had a better claim on him, so he walked away--but she can't really believe that; she's positive that, if David had to abandon her because of something like that, he would have given her some explanation.
Her son sometimes asks about his father, and sometimes Ruth answers, and sometimes she changes the subject.
The day that would have been her tenth wedding anniversary, she takes off her rings and hides them in a drawer; every anniversary after, she takes them back out and wonders.
Story: Forgotten
'Verse: Lux
Colors: Ivory #25. So, before we end and then begin, we'll drink a toast to how it's been., Iceberg #1. snow, Russet #13. gossamer [Cobwebs.]
Supplies and Materials: pointillism, photography, miniature collection, paint-by-numbers (from Kelly), canvas, stain, fabric, modeling clay, pastels (my curreng gen + romance card G4 "courage"), seed beads, novelty beads, yarn, glitter
Word Count: 550
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Ruth
Warnings: Disappearance of a loved one
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. 'David' is known later in his life as Simon Gilboa.
At first, when Ruth comes home and David isn't there, she doesn't think anything of it--his things are all there, neatly organized the way he likes, except some papers to grade spread out on the coffee table; he probably forgot to tell her about an appointment or something.
She calls the police at eleven that night, trying to make them understand, take her seriously--her husband doesn't remember anything before ten years ago, and they still don't know why, something terrible could have happened--but since David's been missing for less than twenty-four hours, the police won't do anything.
Ruth puts up posters with his name, approximate age, height, and so on all over the neighborhood, all the places they went together that let her borrow bulletin board space, a copy on her blog; she asks their rabbi to make an announcement, and prays as hard as she can that someone, somewhere, will have seen him.
Days pass--her blog post circles around the internet, her friends try to offer her a shoulder to cry on, pass fliers out to everyone they know that she doesn't, her boss gives her all kinds of leeway, but there's no response, no call, no substantive lead.
She refuses to believe it when people suggest he left her for another woman.
At the end of the first week, Ruth wakes up in the middle of the night, positive she heard his footsteps on the landing, his keys clinking next to hers in the bowl by the door; she scrambles out of bed, trips over the blankets, ignores her split lip to go to the door--and there's nothing.
Her cousin buys her a dog after ten days--and the dog does ease her loneliness, if only by being something she can cuddle at night.
Ruth doesn't ever give up, not really, but after four weeks, other people have--or at least that's what it looks like to her; comments on her post about him dwindle, her friends tiptoe around the subject instead of asking how she's holding up, if there have been any new leads, so she quietly lets him go, and a little piece of her heart dies.
When she finds out she's pregnant, she starts feeling like a widow; when her son is born, she names him David.
Every so often she'll see someone who looks like him out of the corner of her eye, or an actor on TV who smiles like him, or hear a teacher who explains things to his students like he did, but she's invariably disappointed and it just drives home that she's all alone.
Sometimes, Ruth wonders if he left because it all came back to him, all the memories he'd lost; she wonders if he had a wife, another family, before her, and figured that his first wife had a better claim on him, so he walked away--but she can't really believe that; she's positive that, if David had to abandon her because of something like that, he would have given her some explanation.
Her son sometimes asks about his father, and sometimes Ruth answers, and sometimes she changes the subject.
The day that would have been her tenth wedding anniversary, she takes off her rings and hides them in a drawer; every anniversary after, she takes them back out and wonders.
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