So give me time
Aug. 19th, 2005 12:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stillsostrangeLast night I got to watch ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cpolk, matociquala, katallen and tanaise sit around and be smart at each other. And cpolk's story seems to have left some spores in my brain.
Nan woke to thunder, to the hot press of flesh and a weight on her chest that stole her breath.
She gasped, thrashed, and the cat jumped away with an indignant mrr and a parting claw in her stomach. Evie stirred beside her, kicked off sticky sheets and stilled again. Thunder cracked and the house shivered.
Nan stared at the ceiling through sifting storm-shadows, at the still blades of the fan. The power was out. She counted backwards from a hundred, made it to twenty-seven before her heart slowed and her head began to clear. Just a storm, and she was fine. Evie was fine. The pain in her back subsided from a hot red flare to the usual nagging awareness.
After a minute she slid out of bed, grabbed her cigarettes off the nightstand and padded across the sticky floor in tanktop and underwear. Sweat slicked her skin, and she could imagine all the paper in the house curling in the damp. She opened the front door to the wind and stepped onto the porch, pushing the creaking screen open slowly to keep from waking Evie.
Nan sighed as the wind whipped over her, raising goosebumps on her arms and legs. The lights were out down the block, nothing but lightning seething in the clouds. Rain drummed against the roof, pounded through the gutters and poured down in shining cascades.
It couldn't wash her away. She was safe here, in her house on the hill. The waters could rise, but they wouldn't reach her. Not this time.
She sat on the porch swing, kicked back and forth as she lit a cigarette. Smoke cleared the sleep-taste from her mouth, the metallic fear-taste. Insects droned above her head, searching for their stolen light. A cockroach nearly as long as her thumb crawled across the weathered floor and Nan pulled her feet up to let him pass.
Chains squealed softly as she swung. Alone. The only one awake, the only one watching.
Somewhere, somewhen, there was a Nan who slept soundly, a Nan who wasn't afraid of storms and rushing water.
She closed her eyes, listened to rain on leaves, rain on muddy earth, the buzz and click of the insects. Lightning arced down, and in the fading flash she saw huge trunks pushing toward the sky, broad weeping ferns where oak and magnolia had grown. The air was different, too sharp, too raw.
Stop it.
Nan turned, looked down at the porch. The cockroach was gone, replaced by something long and dark as a blown tire, something armored. Mandibles clacked and feelers twitched.
You think they don't notice when you do that? You think they don't care?
"Who?"
It turned, segmented arthropleurid body glistening as it crawled over the edge of the porch and disappeared into the rain.
Wings droned beside her ear, the draft tugging at her hair. Nan jerked around, threw up an arm as a giant dragonfly buzzed past her. They notice, girl. They care. Stop it, before they get involved.
The screen door creaked, swung open. "Nan?"
Stop it.
And then the giant bug was gone, just moths and mosquitoes flitting through the dark. Nan dropped her cigarette, hissed as the cherry brushed her fingers.
"I'm here." Her voice was still rough from sleep, low and scratchy; it hid the tremor in the words.
"Come back to bed?"
The wind shifted, and she caught the scent of Evie's clean sweat, the sweet smell of her hair. After a second Nan rose and followed her back into the close dark of the house.
cpolk, matociquala, katallen and tanaise sit around and be smart at each other. And cpolk's story seems to have left some spores in my brain.Nan woke to thunder, to the hot press of flesh and a weight on her chest that stole her breath.
She gasped, thrashed, and the cat jumped away with an indignant mrr and a parting claw in her stomach. Evie stirred beside her, kicked off sticky sheets and stilled again. Thunder cracked and the house shivered.
Nan stared at the ceiling through sifting storm-shadows, at the still blades of the fan. The power was out. She counted backwards from a hundred, made it to twenty-seven before her heart slowed and her head began to clear. Just a storm, and she was fine. Evie was fine. The pain in her back subsided from a hot red flare to the usual nagging awareness.
After a minute she slid out of bed, grabbed her cigarettes off the nightstand and padded across the sticky floor in tanktop and underwear. Sweat slicked her skin, and she could imagine all the paper in the house curling in the damp. She opened the front door to the wind and stepped onto the porch, pushing the creaking screen open slowly to keep from waking Evie.
Nan sighed as the wind whipped over her, raising goosebumps on her arms and legs. The lights were out down the block, nothing but lightning seething in the clouds. Rain drummed against the roof, pounded through the gutters and poured down in shining cascades.
It couldn't wash her away. She was safe here, in her house on the hill. The waters could rise, but they wouldn't reach her. Not this time.
She sat on the porch swing, kicked back and forth as she lit a cigarette. Smoke cleared the sleep-taste from her mouth, the metallic fear-taste. Insects droned above her head, searching for their stolen light. A cockroach nearly as long as her thumb crawled across the weathered floor and Nan pulled her feet up to let him pass.
Chains squealed softly as she swung. Alone. The only one awake, the only one watching.
Somewhere, somewhen, there was a Nan who slept soundly, a Nan who wasn't afraid of storms and rushing water.
She closed her eyes, listened to rain on leaves, rain on muddy earth, the buzz and click of the insects. Lightning arced down, and in the fading flash she saw huge trunks pushing toward the sky, broad weeping ferns where oak and magnolia had grown. The air was different, too sharp, too raw.
Stop it.
Nan turned, looked down at the porch. The cockroach was gone, replaced by something long and dark as a blown tire, something armored. Mandibles clacked and feelers twitched.
You think they don't notice when you do that? You think they don't care?
"Who?"
It turned, segmented arthropleurid body glistening as it crawled over the edge of the porch and disappeared into the rain.
Wings droned beside her ear, the draft tugging at her hair. Nan jerked around, threw up an arm as a giant dragonfly buzzed past her. They notice, girl. They care. Stop it, before they get involved.
The screen door creaked, swung open. "Nan?"
Stop it.
And then the giant bug was gone, just moths and mosquitoes flitting through the dark. Nan dropped her cigarette, hissed as the cherry brushed her fingers.
"I'm here." Her voice was still rough from sleep, low and scratchy; it hid the tremor in the words.
"Come back to bed?"
The wind shifted, and she caught the scent of Evie's clean sweat, the sweet smell of her hair. After a second Nan rose and followed her back into the close dark of the house.
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no subject
Date: 2005-08-19 06:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-08-19 07:21 pm (UTC)yeah, you should keep doing that.