Challenge Post - 213
Jan. 7th, 2010 01:44 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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Challenge: [213] Anticipation
Title: Here I am Waiting
Wordcount: 196
Notes: Kairi-centric. It was going to be longer, but I like it better as it is. Not entirely happy with this either, though… Hm.
It bothers her—the things that she can’t remember, and the things that she can remember. She remembers laughter and promises; she remembers warm hands holding her own. She remembers what it felt like to be protected; she remembers play-fights; she remembers plans to run away together—to go out and see the other worlds.
If she tries hard enough, she can almost remember his crooked smile. She can almost remember his throaty laugh.
These memories come to her in bits and pieces, and they are as fine as sand, running through her fingers before she can close her fist and keep them safe.
Most of all, she wishes she could remember their names.
She writes a letter (she does not begin it with ‘Dear’, because she does not know who to address it to) and places it in a bottle, watching as the waves carry it further and further away from her.
She doesn’t know if it will reach them, but she hopes it will.
She sits on the beach, just outside the tide’s reach, drawing silly, meaningless shapes in the sand.
And she waits for her boys – wherever they might be – to come home.
Title: Here I am Waiting
Wordcount: 196
Notes: Kairi-centric. It was going to be longer, but I like it better as it is. Not entirely happy with this either, though… Hm.
It bothers her—the things that she can’t remember, and the things that she can remember. She remembers laughter and promises; she remembers warm hands holding her own. She remembers what it felt like to be protected; she remembers play-fights; she remembers plans to run away together—to go out and see the other worlds.
If she tries hard enough, she can almost remember his crooked smile. She can almost remember his throaty laugh.
These memories come to her in bits and pieces, and they are as fine as sand, running through her fingers before she can close her fist and keep them safe.
Most of all, she wishes she could remember their names.
She writes a letter (she does not begin it with ‘Dear’, because she does not know who to address it to) and places it in a bottle, watching as the waves carry it further and further away from her.
She doesn’t know if it will reach them, but she hopes it will.
She sits on the beach, just outside the tide’s reach, drawing silly, meaningless shapes in the sand.
And she waits for her boys – wherever they might be – to come home.
no subject
Date: 2010-01-09 08:48 pm (UTC)Your fic just makes me happy inside. <3<3<3
(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2010-01-11 11:18 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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