Ficlet: Breathe over the Isle
Oct. 3rd, 2010 02:42 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bibliodragonAnother ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
ar_drabbles challenge piece.
Title: Breathe over the Isle
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
bibliodragon
Rating: Gen
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 300
The breeze blows through the poplar and cypress trees as I make my way across the land. The place is deceptively desolate, but I know of the life that is hidden here, from the hawks that ride the winds above to their prey scurrying through the undergrowth, and smile at the irony.
The dog chases one of them, a streak of black and white hair blundering through the undergrowth. I call him back with a whistle and he trots to my side, tongue lolling with canine happiness. Leaning on my stick I survey the land below.
Here the river runs slow and wide, more a lake, with water clear as glass. The little cabin is almost hidden in the landscape, easy to miss, if I did not know it was there. Smoke curls from the chimney diffusing into clear blue sky, the garden modest but well tended, small paths picked out amongst beds of white daffodils and herbs, firewood neatly stacked against the wall.
She is holding the axe awkwardly as he watches, lifting the head up before dropping it down to the ground as he says something. She scowls but there is no force behind it, and as she attempts again her swing is marred by her shoulders shaking with laughter. The axe makes it half way down the log before sticking.
Pulling it free while she bends with laughter, he then stands behind her and pulls her against him, his hands travelling down her arms to cover her grip. He whispers something in her ear, something about stance as she shifts her feet. Together they swing the axe slowly, once, twice; the third time the movement is swift and the thunk of metal against wood echoes of the hillside.
I continue on, an intruder on my own land.
ar_drabbles challenge piece.Title: Breathe over the Isle
Author:
bibliodragonRating: Gen
Spoilers: None
Word Count: 300
The breeze blows through the poplar and cypress trees as I make my way across the land. The place is deceptively desolate, but I know of the life that is hidden here, from the hawks that ride the winds above to their prey scurrying through the undergrowth, and smile at the irony.
The dog chases one of them, a streak of black and white hair blundering through the undergrowth. I call him back with a whistle and he trots to my side, tongue lolling with canine happiness. Leaning on my stick I survey the land below.
Here the river runs slow and wide, more a lake, with water clear as glass. The little cabin is almost hidden in the landscape, easy to miss, if I did not know it was there. Smoke curls from the chimney diffusing into clear blue sky, the garden modest but well tended, small paths picked out amongst beds of white daffodils and herbs, firewood neatly stacked against the wall.
She is holding the axe awkwardly as he watches, lifting the head up before dropping it down to the ground as he says something. She scowls but there is no force behind it, and as she attempts again her swing is marred by her shoulders shaking with laughter. The axe makes it half way down the log before sticking.
Pulling it free while she bends with laughter, he then stands behind her and pulls her against him, his hands travelling down her arms to cover her grip. He whispers something in her ear, something about stance as she shifts her feet. Together they swing the axe slowly, once, twice; the third time the movement is swift and the thunk of metal against wood echoes of the hillside.
I continue on, an intruder on my own land.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-10-03 03:13 pm (UTC)Is the narrator Romo Lampkin, by any chance?
no subject
Date: 2010-10-03 03:25 pm (UTC)Thank you, I really wanted the cabin to be modest but idyllic.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-03 04:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-03 05:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-03 04:19 pm (UTC)You have set a wonderfully idyllic scene here, the simple perfection it seems right for these two characters to have craved. From that brief interaction we see between them we can deduce so much about their relationship, still more from that brilliant last line which suggests the intimacy of that moment.
That last line is what convinced me that the narrator was some sort of overseer of the afterlife - whether that be Death or a god and it is a highly imaginative choice for this challenge which you executed to perfection.
I love this. Thank you very much.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-03 05:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-05 03:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-05 08:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-07 01:03 am (UTC)This should be the ending to Daybreak.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-07 10:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-09 08:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-10 11:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-10-16 05:50 am (UTC)I really liked this drabble. We don't need to know who the narrator (POV) is. Simply a watcher or sorts. A guardian if you will.
If there was indeed a 'life after, the portrait you've painted here is definitely the one I see for Laura & Bill.
Lovely.
And I'm happy Jake was there.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-16 12:45 pm (UTC)Turns out the Cylons were reading just God backwards. And he has a PlanSQUIRREL!
Thank you for the nice words :).