Dawn at Belvedere Castle - Déjà vu
Mar. 29th, 2009 10:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nomorekaraokeAt first, there's barely a sound, barely a speck of color among the shadows of the deceptively old structure. Not anything remarkable about the place, except for its location, perhaps. The air is crisp, the ground is slippery here and there, ice covered in sludge losing the war against the patches of green grass spreading all around.
He's always liked spring. Especially now, when his eyes are closed and his senses are focused outward; every little hint of it is like a peck on the cheek or the ear or the back of his neck - there's a certain smell to the air, a green scent that resonates within him. He remembers the first spring on Earth, and the winter that came before it. He kept imagining the snowflakes were fairies - tiny little darlings dancing in the air only to become it if they ever touched you. Evaporating, melting... It's an end he wouldn't wish on anyone. But spring... Spring is hope. Spring is being born again.
Slowly, softly, color seeps into the world between the cracks. Yellow tones, orange and ocher battling against the dark in an eternal war.
It's beautiful. It gives him hope. The world didn't end tonight. It's just begun anew. Turned a new leaf, if you will.
He opens his eyes, the warmth reflecting in the red of his irises. Maybe today, he can turn a new leaf too. Maybe it isn't too late.
Maybe there's hope for him yet.
He's always liked spring. Especially now, when his eyes are closed and his senses are focused outward; every little hint of it is like a peck on the cheek or the ear or the back of his neck - there's a certain smell to the air, a green scent that resonates within him. He remembers the first spring on Earth, and the winter that came before it. He kept imagining the snowflakes were fairies - tiny little darlings dancing in the air only to become it if they ever touched you. Evaporating, melting... It's an end he wouldn't wish on anyone. But spring... Spring is hope. Spring is being born again.
Slowly, softly, color seeps into the world between the cracks. Yellow tones, orange and ocher battling against the dark in an eternal war.
It's beautiful. It gives him hope. The world didn't end tonight. It's just begun anew. Turned a new leaf, if you will.
He opens his eyes, the warmth reflecting in the red of his irises. Maybe today, he can turn a new leaf too. Maybe it isn't too late.
Maybe there's hope for him yet.
no subject
Date: 2009-05-03 07:26 pm (UTC)It’s no good; either he can't see anything or there's nothing to see. He turns away from the railing, stuffs hands into pockets, and takes a step or two backwards. Toward the stairs down to the Shakespeare Gardens and the west side of the Park. "You go ahead and, um, finish watching the sunrise or whatever. I'm out."
no subject
Date: 2009-05-03 07:38 pm (UTC)He won't be coming back here for a while. Not for the foreseeable future. Not anytime soon.
no subject
Date: 2009-05-03 09:55 pm (UTC)As he starts walking again, one hand comes out of his pocket with his cellphone, flipping it open and thumbing one speed-dial button with the unthinking ease of long practice. On the other end of the line, four buzzes and then the voicemail message.
"Angel? Just leaving the Park. I ran into your old friend with the nightclub. Make sure I still remember that when I get in, okay?"
Probably excessive paranoia on his part, but ...
Yeah.