it's spring...
Mar. 28th, 2005 06:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
pipistrellafelixThe trees outside our window have leafed out in abundance, and now there are long green fingers sweeping in the wind. It blocks the view, but I like it very much.
I am about to go eat dinner at C-Street (ah, good old college food!) and then possibly do my homework. Maybe. It's not due till Wendesday. *grin* But really honestly...my goal for this quarter--which I am writing here so a) you can all mock the unlikelihood of it and b) yell at my when I don't follow up--is to begin my long-term projects early. Especially if I get into Greenstage; those 6-10 rehearsals would cut hell into my life. In the best possible way, of course.
And now I go, and leave you with random writing number...four, is it?
He began to have nightmares, which he had never really had before. He remembered there had been some as a child; but the bogeys of the dark corners and the monsters in the closets had all been chased away long ago, leaving him sleeping with unremembered, unremarkable dreams.
Tonight he dreamt he was in a dark corridor, plain stone walls and no light but the faintly glowing windows. Someone was chasing him, he knew, but he couldn’t tell from where. He was utterly terrified, and unable to tell why. Then someone else was there—he didn’t know whom. She—he thought it was a she—was tugging his sleeve, speaking urgently. Her voice was familiar. He didn’t know the words, but caught the meaning well enough—it’s time to go. Let’s get out of here.
And then Thomas woke suddenly, heart pounding, staring at a dark ceiling.
Aislinn was up before him that morning, as usual, sitting at the table with a full pot of tea. She didn’t greet him, though, when he came in, but sat silently staring at the blank wood, her teacup clenched in both hands. He saw they were shaking. “Are you all right?”
She jerked her head up, and for a moment the expression in her eyes was simple, wild panic. Then she smiled slightly, and he wondered if he’d imagined it. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice catching slightly. She cleared her throat. “Fine. Good morning. Tea’s in the pot if you want it.” She reached out to place her cup on the waiting saucer, and it clattered loudly. Her hands were still shaking.
“You’re not all right,” he said, reaching for a second teacup and pouring for himself, then leaning against the kitchen counter.
“I’ll be fine, Thomas,” Aislinn insisted. “I…had a bad dream, that’s all. I’m just being silly.”
He took a sip of tea—scalding hot Earl Grey. “I had a nightmare last night.”
She looked up, a little too quickly. “Did you?” she asked after a moment, her voice carefully casual. “What…what was it about?”
He took another sip of tea, and grimaced. It wasn’t any cooler. “Nothing really,” he said. “One of those chasing dreams. Being chased, I mean.”
“Down a dark corridor,” she said, her voice low, staring into her teacup.
“You had it too?” he asked, and this time it was he who carefully controlled his voice. “The same one?”
There was a long pause. “You had my dream,” she said finally, and looked up at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would get so out of hand, but I must have missed a ward or something last night.”
“Wait.” Thomas put his teacup on the table and sat down across from her. “I had your dream? How is that even possible?”
She smiled. “A lot of things are possible.”
“Then it was you,” he said, remembering suddenly. “It was you who came—”
“And got you out, yes. You weren’t supposed to be there.” She picked up her cup again. “And you won’t ever be there again,” she said, her voice hard. “I shouldn’t have let it get so out of control.”
There was another long pause, while he tried to figure out what to say. “You…you have those dreams a lot, then?” he asked tentatively.
She flicked her gaze up at him. “Most every night.”
“Then why…why are you so upset this morning?” he asked, hoping she wouldn’t take offence.
“I’m really fine,” she repeated doggedly, then stopped at the look on his face, and sighed. “I had more dreams than usual. But it’s fine. I’m all right. Stop worrying, Thomas.”
He took another sip of tea, for lack of a better thing to do; and didn't stop worrying.
Extra special points for people who can tell me why her name is what it is. *grin*
I am about to go eat dinner at C-Street (ah, good old college food!) and then possibly do my homework. Maybe. It's not due till Wendesday. *grin* But really honestly...my goal for this quarter--which I am writing here so a) you can all mock the unlikelihood of it and b) yell at my when I don't follow up--is to begin my long-term projects early. Especially if I get into Greenstage; those 6-10 rehearsals would cut hell into my life. In the best possible way, of course.
And now I go, and leave you with random writing number...four, is it?
He began to have nightmares, which he had never really had before. He remembered there had been some as a child; but the bogeys of the dark corners and the monsters in the closets had all been chased away long ago, leaving him sleeping with unremembered, unremarkable dreams.
Tonight he dreamt he was in a dark corridor, plain stone walls and no light but the faintly glowing windows. Someone was chasing him, he knew, but he couldn’t tell from where. He was utterly terrified, and unable to tell why. Then someone else was there—he didn’t know whom. She—he thought it was a she—was tugging his sleeve, speaking urgently. Her voice was familiar. He didn’t know the words, but caught the meaning well enough—it’s time to go. Let’s get out of here.
And then Thomas woke suddenly, heart pounding, staring at a dark ceiling.
Aislinn was up before him that morning, as usual, sitting at the table with a full pot of tea. She didn’t greet him, though, when he came in, but sat silently staring at the blank wood, her teacup clenched in both hands. He saw they were shaking. “Are you all right?”
She jerked her head up, and for a moment the expression in her eyes was simple, wild panic. Then she smiled slightly, and he wondered if he’d imagined it. “I’m fine,” she said, her voice catching slightly. She cleared her throat. “Fine. Good morning. Tea’s in the pot if you want it.” She reached out to place her cup on the waiting saucer, and it clattered loudly. Her hands were still shaking.
“You’re not all right,” he said, reaching for a second teacup and pouring for himself, then leaning against the kitchen counter.
“I’ll be fine, Thomas,” Aislinn insisted. “I…had a bad dream, that’s all. I’m just being silly.”
He took a sip of tea—scalding hot Earl Grey. “I had a nightmare last night.”
She looked up, a little too quickly. “Did you?” she asked after a moment, her voice carefully casual. “What…what was it about?”
He took another sip of tea, and grimaced. It wasn’t any cooler. “Nothing really,” he said. “One of those chasing dreams. Being chased, I mean.”
“Down a dark corridor,” she said, her voice low, staring into her teacup.
“You had it too?” he asked, and this time it was he who carefully controlled his voice. “The same one?”
There was a long pause. “You had my dream,” she said finally, and looked up at him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think it would get so out of hand, but I must have missed a ward or something last night.”
“Wait.” Thomas put his teacup on the table and sat down across from her. “I had your dream? How is that even possible?”
She smiled. “A lot of things are possible.”
“Then it was you,” he said, remembering suddenly. “It was you who came—”
“And got you out, yes. You weren’t supposed to be there.” She picked up her cup again. “And you won’t ever be there again,” she said, her voice hard. “I shouldn’t have let it get so out of control.”
There was another long pause, while he tried to figure out what to say. “You…you have those dreams a lot, then?” he asked tentatively.
She flicked her gaze up at him. “Most every night.”
“Then why…why are you so upset this morning?” he asked, hoping she wouldn’t take offence.
“I’m really fine,” she repeated doggedly, then stopped at the look on his face, and sighed. “I had more dreams than usual. But it’s fine. I’m all right. Stop worrying, Thomas.”
He took another sip of tea, for lack of a better thing to do; and didn't stop worrying.
Extra special points for people who can tell me why her name is what it is. *grin*
