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Care of suibhne_geilt

Write something for me. Just for me. A sentence, a paragraph. Nanofiction. Short story. A scene, dialogue, a picture described, a moment, anything. Long or short. But it's got to be just for me.

Then feel free to put this up in your own journal, and I'll reciprocate.

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zzinnia
Sep. 20th, 2004 02:24 am (UTC)
what is the light?
there is a light that lights the lines between the words now that she is here with him. there is slash of hope that cuts his dry wisdom. he knew what he knew, and what he didn't know--yet now, that matters so much less.
suibhne_geilt
Sep. 21st, 2004 02:37 am (UTC)
I should be at home here, but I'm not. I found myself, with you, in a vale outside of the cities. All around us, we were swallowed in the silence that only evergreens can give you. The fallen needles absorb the sound of your footsteps, the green needles on the trees drink up any noise trying to walk the air.

The mist is soft, slightly chilling, but not damping the bones yet.

I should be at home here, but I'm not.

Even the scent should welcome me. The sharp sap, the clean snap when you inhale.

I should be at home here, but I'm not.

It's the mountains. More than distance, more than the time it took to travel, they separate me from where I should be. It is not your presence that drives me back to my home. It is the lack of home here that compels me to return.

The stones, shoved from the ground, raking the bellies of the clouds. They break the travel of pollen, the spread of the trees. Your trees here are not mine, where I live.

It is the mountains that keep me from finding my home here, that keep me from staying, and I must leave.

queen_oblivia
Sep. 22nd, 2004 11:30 pm (UTC)
he said it couldn't be done so i did it. i did it just to show him up but i ended up discovering a previously unknown talent.
i'd thought, as a child, that something must surely be wrong with me as everyone i knew had some talent or other. my collection of acquaintances boasted junior mechanics, equestrians, bakers of cookies, angsty writers of poetry, computer whizzes and a kid who could belch his entire name, including middle initial. surrounded by such diverse abilities as these, i wondered how i could possibly manage to tread water in such company.
speaking of treading water, i lacked even that basic skill. it wasn't for lack of trying, believe me. every occupation was attempted at least once or, in most cases, i was asked to stop for the good of mankind. these included: setting tray after tray of baked goods(and once my kitchen) ablaze, deleting all information on my brother's hard drive--twice, writing a short story that made my English teacher's nose crinkle up at like she'd smelled bad eggs before she dropped the paper like it'd burned her hands and, most ignominous of all, inadvertantly causing a...let's call it an "incident" which resulted in my neighbor's rottweiler's untimely neutering.
considering my lack of success, i thought it impossible that i'd ever find something i could successfully do without causing an explosion at best or fatality at worst. my only option, i'd decided, was to stay indoors a lot and avoid strangers and sports--especially sports. good lord, don't get me started on sports--that is, until the challenge.
i'll never know what made me think i could do it. perhaps i'd had a psychic flash? maybe i knew somewhere inside me that this was my one big chance and i gravitated toward it with confidence coming more from my subconscious than from any reasonable expectation of success. in retrospect, it doesn't really matter. what matters is this: he said it couldn't be done so i did it.

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