Ebb: A Vignette
Jun. 14th, 2003 10:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
edgI keep reading Nobilis, and I keep getting ideas.
Comments are, as always, extremely welcome.
Now she was angry. She could feel the blood rush to her face (flow, damn it, she thought) and her fists clenched. He had laughed when he'd shoved her; he was still laughing as she lay on the floor. His laughter wasn't merriment or joy, it was mockery, and burbled up his throat from a pit where his heart was meant to be.
She pushed herself to her elbows, and then flung herself to her feet. Mock her? He would learn what a bad idea that was. He went to shove her and she
wasn't there
stepped to the side lightly, letting him put himself between her and the bed. There; now he couldn't bang her head against the footboard or the table beside the pillows like he had several times already. She stepped in, but he reached forward and pushed again.
She supposed, as she tumbled through the air along with tatters of curtain and shards of glass, that she had been meant to catch herself on something. But the low table by the wall had caught her and she had lost her balance, and fell now through countless - no, infinite moments. The pavement was suddenly hard against her back and there was a car's horn blaring to her side. She looked up; how could she have only fallen three floors? She got up and wrapped a long tatter around her naked body; it cinched tight at her shoulder, like she imagined an imperfect toga might have. The world spun slightly and she told it to stop. When it obeyed, she looked around. He was standing by the window, looking down at her, an O of astonishment formed by his mouth that tasted of salt and beer.
She looked down. The world, the Earth and its laws, were becoming annoyingly persisent. She clenched her jaw and her fists, not feeling the blood that ran through her fingers. She thought, and gravity itself ebbed around her. Her body shot upward until it reached the third floor and regained equilibrium. A vacuum, she thought, is just an absence of air, and the air in front of her moved out and around her, pushing and pulling her forward until she was face-to-face with him. Her toga fluttered in the breeze.
She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him out, holding him up by the strength of her will. She kissed him, and the world turned upside down; they hung by their ankles, feet among the stars, and kissed. Then she pulled away, and he smiled.
She shook her head. "You laughed," she said, and let go.
Comments are, as always, extremely welcome.
Now she was angry. She could feel the blood rush to her face (flow, damn it, she thought) and her fists clenched. He had laughed when he'd shoved her; he was still laughing as she lay on the floor. His laughter wasn't merriment or joy, it was mockery, and burbled up his throat from a pit where his heart was meant to be.
She pushed herself to her elbows, and then flung herself to her feet. Mock her? He would learn what a bad idea that was. He went to shove her and she
wasn't there
stepped to the side lightly, letting him put himself between her and the bed. There; now he couldn't bang her head against the footboard or the table beside the pillows like he had several times already. She stepped in, but he reached forward and pushed again.
She supposed, as she tumbled through the air along with tatters of curtain and shards of glass, that she had been meant to catch herself on something. But the low table by the wall had caught her and she had lost her balance, and fell now through countless - no, infinite moments. The pavement was suddenly hard against her back and there was a car's horn blaring to her side. She looked up; how could she have only fallen three floors? She got up and wrapped a long tatter around her naked body; it cinched tight at her shoulder, like she imagined an imperfect toga might have. The world spun slightly and she told it to stop. When it obeyed, she looked around. He was standing by the window, looking down at her, an O of astonishment formed by his mouth that tasted of salt and beer.
She looked down. The world, the Earth and its laws, were becoming annoyingly persisent. She clenched her jaw and her fists, not feeling the blood that ran through her fingers. She thought, and gravity itself ebbed around her. Her body shot upward until it reached the third floor and regained equilibrium. A vacuum, she thought, is just an absence of air, and the air in front of her moved out and around her, pushing and pulling her forward until she was face-to-face with him. Her toga fluttered in the breeze.
She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him out, holding him up by the strength of her will. She kissed him, and the world turned upside down; they hung by their ankles, feet among the stars, and kissed. Then she pulled away, and he smiled.
She shook her head. "You laughed," she said, and let go.
