shadowsong26 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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rainbowfic2013-03-25 01:33 am
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2013-03-25 01:33 am
Entry tags:
Old Lace #14, Dove White #18, Dove Grey #15
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Dashed
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Old Lace #14. I have had too much experience of life to believe in the infallibility of doctors., Dove White #18. Dude, marriage is the 'get out of loneliness free' card in the Monopoly game of life., Dove Grey #15. Numb with shock, we can only stand and watch as they fall away from us, gradually getting smaller...
Supplies and Materials: tapestry, bichromatic, miniature collection, photography, canvas (983 FY), brush (nascent), feathers, chalk, seed beeds, glitter
Word Count: 198
Rating: R
Characters: Keta
Warnings: Aftermath of a fatal accident involving family members, one of whom is a child
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. I will write something happy (or at least not bleak) tomorrow, I promise.
Denill was thirteen.
That's what beats through her mind, unceasing, after the accident,
as they pull his body, bent and broken, out of the sodden wreckage.
They try to heal him, to fix where he broke, and...
Denill, her son, her baby, was only thirteen.
It was an accident.
That's what they keep telling her, reassuring, and she knows
that it's true--a shifting sandbar, a sudden storm, a small pleasure-boat
dashed against unforgiving rocks.
An act of wrathful nature, no mortal hand involved.
She has his body.
She has that comfort, at least, in that body
which she can bury, a grave which she can visit,
where she can mourn, and feel she has some piece of him still.
His body, but not his father's.
It's all too much.
She plays it over and over in her head--why she wasn't with them,
how the weather turned (how like the morning
of her wedding day) how they brought her son back
and promised they'd keep searching for her husband.
They never find him.
And Denill--only thirteen--mirrors his father's watery grave
in one of earth, and she, in pieces, more alone than she dreamed possible,
despite her sisters at her side, kneels by her son,
too broken to weep.
Story: Dashed
'Verse: Feredar
Colors: Old Lace #14. I have had too much experience of life to believe in the infallibility of doctors., Dove White #18. Dude, marriage is the 'get out of loneliness free' card in the Monopoly game of life., Dove Grey #15. Numb with shock, we can only stand and watch as they fall away from us, gradually getting smaller...
Supplies and Materials: tapestry, bichromatic, miniature collection, photography, canvas (983 FY), brush (nascent), feathers, chalk, seed beeds, glitter
Word Count: 198
Rating: R
Characters: Keta
Warnings: Aftermath of a fatal accident involving family members, one of whom is a child
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always. I will write something happy (or at least not bleak) tomorrow, I promise.
Denill was thirteen.
That's what beats through her mind, unceasing, after the accident,
as they pull his body, bent and broken, out of the sodden wreckage.
They try to heal him, to fix where he broke, and...
Denill, her son, her baby, was only thirteen.
It was an accident.
That's what they keep telling her, reassuring, and she knows
that it's true--a shifting sandbar, a sudden storm, a small pleasure-boat
dashed against unforgiving rocks.
An act of wrathful nature, no mortal hand involved.
She has his body.
She has that comfort, at least, in that body
which she can bury, a grave which she can visit,
where she can mourn, and feel she has some piece of him still.
His body, but not his father's.
It's all too much.
She plays it over and over in her head--why she wasn't with them,
how the weather turned (how like the morning
of her wedding day) how they brought her son back
and promised they'd keep searching for her husband.
They never find him.
And Denill--only thirteen--mirrors his father's watery grave
in one of earth, and she, in pieces, more alone than she dreamed possible,
despite her sisters at her side, kneels by her son,
too broken to weep.
no subject
no subject
Yeah. Keta...quietly fell apart for a while after this, and pretty much lives in the archives from now on. Part of her thinks it would be easier if she had someone to blame, the way her father does for her mother's death, but...yeah.