NOTES
written August 15, 1997
Like I have time for this. I have work to do, dammit. And I need answers, not gibberish about dead explorers and cavemen. Waste of time, should never have come here.
Thank God. Fresh air. I don't even want to know what that kid had in there...
Oh... Beautiful. It's beautiful. Perfection. Shape, and size, and color - could drown in that color. I've never seen a red so pure, so red. Could watch it forever. Perfection.
What the...?!? Movement, noise, pain, something hard, ow, turning, falling - quick, break the fall. Hands, a voice, rumbling engine over my head - hands. On my ass? Why is there... gone. Cold now. How could that one hand be so warm through two layers of cloth?
Rumbling stopped. Light all around. Think, Ellison, think. What happened? Whole side is cold now. Funny, felt like being next to a furnace for a minute there.
Concentrate, dammit, he's talking to you.
Zoned? What the hell does that mean?
Let's? Did I just say "let's"? I guess I did. What the hell, right? Kid seems to know what he's talking about. Or at least talks an entertaining line of BS. Can't hurt to give this a shot.
Yeah, right, Ellison. Got nothing to do with that cold patch on your ass, that was so warm for a second, does it? Nothing to do with feeling a line of fire down your side as he lay beside you. Nothing to do with wanting to see those eyes light up again.
This is just about answers, that's all.
~ fin ~
Feedback of any sort, from one line to detailed crit, is always welcome, at arduinna at trickster dot org.
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