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I post a random title. You write a random story to go with it.
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October
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October
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1 comment:
I figured I should use this to help prepare for NaNo, so here is a scene getting inside the head of one of my characters that now can't go into my NaNo since I've written it already.
Also: slackers.
It had to be said.
---
I dream of red, and I wake up wet. The Autumn nights are too hot for me, too hot for clothing, so I strip and lie back down. It does no good. Every time I close my eyes, I see red. The red of my eyelids turns to the red fur of a fox, and runs away out of sight. I go to chase it, but my feet, still in the world dreams have left behind, tangle in the sheets and kick the edge of the bed. I yelp and grope for my foot.
After rubbing my sore toes, I give up on sleep, and go to the window instead. It shouldn't be this warm for an Autumn evening. When I woke up this morning I was sniffling, and I danced across the bathroom floor to avoid the cold tiles as I made my way towards safely enclosing my feet in slippers. Right now, however - I don't know just when now is, but it is dark - my body is flushed with heat, and my skin welcomes the breeze at the window.
I look out at the city. The city is prettier at night, bright with thousands of lights. By this time of night the signs for the more sedate shops have switched off, but most of them are still burning bright. The moon herself couldn't compete with this display.
I catch a flicker at the corner of my eye, and look up at the building next to me. There is a shape there, hard to see with the neon blazing left and right, dancing on the rooftop. I lean out to get a better look, forgetting any modesty, but the shape dances its way out of view.
I wait, but it does not come back. The heat fades from my body, and the wind is no longer refreshing; it chills me and pimples my flesh. Instead of standing erect, I lean against the window frame, huddling away from the wind. As I watch, I think it will be okay if I rest my eyes, just for a moment.
I'm dancing on the rooftop, chasing a shadow just out of reach. I can't see it clearly, but I know it's beautiful. Just as we're about to touch, just as I'm about to bring it into the light of a rising moon, I trip. My hand jerks out instinctively to stop the ground from hitting my head, but there is nothing there. No ground, only air and lights. I flail, and my other hand grabs the edge of the window frame. My head had dropped, but the rest of me was in no danger of falling. No cause for alarm, heart. Calm down.
I'm cold now. Even after I convince myself that adrenaline is not really called for, I'm still shivering. I cross my arms tight across my chest, and look up at the rooftop. Still nothing there. Now that the panic of waking up has passed, my eyelids are growing heavy again. I sigh, and return to bed. Any regret at giving up on my vigil are erased as the warmth of the blankets envelop me.
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