September 5th, 2009
|05:52 am - Paragraphs-at-a-Time Story, "The Branch" #5|
Saturday story-bit, here we go! (I scatter garlands and thanks for those of you who've come along on this journey... :-))
The last entry ended with His yellow-gold eyes gazed at her unblinkingly. “You doing all right, hon?”
She considered how to answer this unutterably stupid question. 'Fine, sweetheart! As you know, I love me some heartbreak. It's better than witchin' magic or a new truck. Thanks for asking, hell, thanks for giving!' Or 'Just great, Tim. Since you ran out on me I've learned three languages, cornered the market in porkbellies, and made several small clay images of you and poked them with pins. How have you been?' Or maybe the simple truth would suffice.
“No, Rodriguez, but let's keep on going anyway.”
He twitched his shoulders, which signified he had something to say but wouldn't say it. Damn all stoic men, she thought. Damn all men who ran.
They went on, climbing a little now through old damage and new life. She no longer walked this way when she walked on the edge of sunset toward the moon. She'd missed it.
She saw with some pleasure that the underbrush was coming back, after two good monsoon seasons where tropical storms had managed to make their way up the mountain. She saw with some pleasure the signs of deer.
With less pleasure but no surprise, she saw the tracks of a big-footed cat. Hunting again, hunting again. There would be only one. Mountain lions didn't share their space.
At the emptiness of that thought, she looked south. They were close to the edge at this point in the trail. Tucson lay far below them, the valley deep and wide as a bowl. At dusk on ritual evenings, she and Tim had sometimes stopped here, sat on that old rock that looked like her grandmother's sofa, and gazed at the faraway life and lights.
She had sometimes summoned fire and held it in her palms so that she could see the faraway life dance in yellow-gold eyes. But she wouldn't need it now. They were still an hour or two away from sunset.
Soundless, Tim paced beside her. Then his shoulder brushed against hers without warning, and that old power surged, and the wind came up strong and fast from the valley, hot wind breaking apart the cold.
“Ah, Christ, honey,” he said. His voice was already changing.
May your Saturday changes all be good. :-)
Thank you thank you for all celebratory noises! :-)
Happy Saturday, too.
[sends thanks, good cheer, and appreciation]
[sends good thoughts for your Saturday]
|Date:||September 5th, 2009 03:29 pm (UTC)|| |
Thank you thank you, L! And happy Saturday, too. :-)
|Date:||September 5th, 2009 04:13 pm (UTC)|| |
This is gorgeous. Love this line "She no longer walked this way when she walked on the edge of sunset toward the moon." particularly :)
What a lovely thing to say. :-) Thank you, K, and a good end of Saturday to you, too!
|Date:||September 5th, 2009 04:52 pm (UTC)|| |
Whoa. Wow. Argh!
I am very much enjoying this.
I am so glad you're enjoying it! Thank you, A -- and I hope your Saturday is a good one.
Hey! Why isn't there more? Oh, right...paragraphs a day. ::waits::
Cheers for stoic men, damn their golden eyes.
Paragraphs a day. :-)
Thank you thank you, F, and it's kind of you to take Tim's side, too!
There will be a paragraph tomorrow? Not that you shouldn't have a day of rest, but there will be more tomorrow, right?
Yes, absolutely -- a few paragraphs a day, every day, until it's done. [beams]
Thank you, S, thank you twice, and a happy rest of Saturday!
Bloody hell, what a wonderful installment! So much said and unsaid in such a short space.
Hugs and thanks twice for kind words, A! And I hope your Saturday has been good, hope your Sunday is better. :-)
|Date:||September 6th, 2009 12:15 am (UTC)|| |
I love her unspoken answers to his stupid question! :-)
Thank you, Gwynne, thank you and a good Sunday to you!
[smiles and sends thanks]