![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hmpfSince this has been public from the moment of its birth, I've decided to make the next step public, too. So, here it is: Sam bitter!fic, after the first round of rewriting. Will probably only be of interest to people who are interested in the MacSlow writing process. ;-)
In some cases there may be Verschlimmbesserungen. (Now there's a word for the 'German is better than English is better than German' page...)
And this thing still has no title except for the oblique joke, stolen from Max Goldt, of "Auf dem Sprung in die Tiefe verhungern" ("Starving on the jump down", more or less.)
Anyway, here goes:
***
And then it's suddenly very simple:
his feet slapping on concrete, the last step,
the last,
pushing off with all his power,
and there's only the great blue,
and gravity,
and it's all right,
no space for anything but joy in this sky,
it's too late,
(a relief),
too late for regrets,
too late for a change of mind,
and it's a relief,
to feel the air rush past,
to know this is it,
to know it's over, it's done, he's done what he could,
he's done his best,
and his mum will understand, she understands,
she will -
[Ruth Tyler understands: that she's failed him; that she failed to see the sky waiting at the back of his eyes; understands that she doesn't matter; and she'll go on, of course, she's done it before, once, twice, she can do it again, pick herself up another time and go on, she needs to believe that, and sometimes she does believe that, sometimes – and then she stands by a mound of earth that's still fresh and she knows that this time is different, and she straightens her back, raises her chin, and there's no place to go, no place to go at all.]
- and he's falling,
too late now,
falling,
and it's so good
to be going, going,
almost gone,
too late to do anything,
it's over already,
it's over,
the sky gone,
only ground now,
jumping up,
rushing up,
(a relief),
and there's nothing here for him,
nothing, nobody -
[Maya has had a lunch date, another pointless exercise in rebound, and of course anyone should be better than Sam, Sam was unsalvageable from the first, and yet, and yet - and there's an ambulance in front of the building, a small crowd, a colleague turns, sees her, moves to apprehend her, and she knows, she just knows; she trips, runs, pushes through the cluster and reaches the centre just as someone says 'it's over', sinks to her knees as frantic activity is replaced by a stillness that radiates outwards, takes his hand and feels a hand on her shoulder and says, to no one in particular, 'I'm his girlfriend', surprised.]
- and there's
no way to turn back,
no reason,
this is liberation,
this is -
and the last millisecond takes forever,
a glorious, golden eternity,
and then
the ground's there and
things burst, tear and break
and his blood's free to fill spaces inside him
as his brain quietly gives out
and that's that.
***
Yeah? Nay? Ms. I'm-never-wrong? ;-)
(I think I may have accidentally removed some of the 'flying' sensation from it with this step, because I think that was largely created by some of the padding I removed. Which, if true, leaves me with an interesting dilemma...)
ETA: And here's version number three, with new padding:
***
And then it's suddenly very simple:
his feet slapping on concrete, the last step,
the last,
pushing off with all his power,
and there's only the great blue,
and gravity,
and it's all right,
no space for anything but joy in this sky,
it's too late,
(a relief),
too late for regrets,
too late for a change of mind,
and it's such a relief,
to feel the air rush past,
to know this is it,
to know it's over, it's done, he's done what he could,
he's done his best,
and his mum will understand, she understands,
she will -
[Ruth Tyler understands: that she's failed him; that she failed to see the sky waiting at the back of his eyes; understands that she doesn't matter; and she'll go on, of course, she's done it before, once, twice, she can do it again, pick herself up another time and go on, she needs to believe that, and sometimes she does believe that, sometimes – and then she stands by a mound of earth that's still fresh and she knows that this time is different, and she straightens her back, raises her chin, and there's no place to go, no place to go at all.]
- and he's falling,
too late now,
falling,
and it's so good
to be going, going,
gone,
almost gone,
too late to do anything,
it's over already,
it's over,
the sky gone,
only ground now,
jumping up,
rushing up,
(a relief),
and there's nothing here for him,
nothing, nobody -
[Maya has had a lunch date, another pointless exercise in rebound, and of course anyone should be better than Sam, Sam was unsalvageable from the first, and yet, and yet - and there's an ambulance in front of the building, a small crowd, a colleague turns, sees her, moves to apprehend her, and she knows, she just knows; she trips, runs, pushes through the cluster and reaches the centre just as someone says 'it's over', sinks to her knees as frantic activity is replaced by a stillness that radiates outwards, takes his hand and feels a hand on her shoulder and says, to no one in particular, 'I'm his girlfriend', surprised.]
- and there's
no way to turn back,
no reason,
this is liberation,
this is -
and the last millisecond takes forever,
a glorious, golden eternity,
and then
the ground's there and
things burst, tear and break
and his blood's free to fill spaces inside him
as his brain quietly gives out
and that's that.
***
And I think this is the point where I decide that this needs a month in a drawer.
In some cases there may be Verschlimmbesserungen. (Now there's a word for the 'German is better than English is better than German' page...)
And this thing still has no title except for the oblique joke, stolen from Max Goldt, of "Auf dem Sprung in die Tiefe verhungern" ("Starving on the jump down", more or less.)
Anyway, here goes:
***
And then it's suddenly very simple:
his feet slapping on concrete, the last step,
the last,
pushing off with all his power,
and there's only the great blue,
and gravity,
and it's all right,
no space for anything but joy in this sky,
it's too late,
(a relief),
too late for regrets,
too late for a change of mind,
and it's a relief,
to feel the air rush past,
to know this is it,
to know it's over, it's done, he's done what he could,
he's done his best,
and his mum will understand, she understands,
she will -
[Ruth Tyler understands: that she's failed him; that she failed to see the sky waiting at the back of his eyes; understands that she doesn't matter; and she'll go on, of course, she's done it before, once, twice, she can do it again, pick herself up another time and go on, she needs to believe that, and sometimes she does believe that, sometimes – and then she stands by a mound of earth that's still fresh and she knows that this time is different, and she straightens her back, raises her chin, and there's no place to go, no place to go at all.]
- and he's falling,
too late now,
falling,
and it's so good
to be going, going,
almost gone,
too late to do anything,
it's over already,
it's over,
the sky gone,
only ground now,
jumping up,
rushing up,
(a relief),
and there's nothing here for him,
nothing, nobody -
[Maya has had a lunch date, another pointless exercise in rebound, and of course anyone should be better than Sam, Sam was unsalvageable from the first, and yet, and yet - and there's an ambulance in front of the building, a small crowd, a colleague turns, sees her, moves to apprehend her, and she knows, she just knows; she trips, runs, pushes through the cluster and reaches the centre just as someone says 'it's over', sinks to her knees as frantic activity is replaced by a stillness that radiates outwards, takes his hand and feels a hand on her shoulder and says, to no one in particular, 'I'm his girlfriend', surprised.]
- and there's
no way to turn back,
no reason,
this is liberation,
this is -
and the last millisecond takes forever,
a glorious, golden eternity,
and then
the ground's there and
things burst, tear and break
and his blood's free to fill spaces inside him
as his brain quietly gives out
and that's that.
***
Yeah? Nay? Ms. I'm-never-wrong? ;-)
(I think I may have accidentally removed some of the 'flying' sensation from it with this step, because I think that was largely created by some of the padding I removed. Which, if true, leaves me with an interesting dilemma...)
ETA: And here's version number three, with new padding:
***
And then it's suddenly very simple:
his feet slapping on concrete, the last step,
the last,
pushing off with all his power,
and there's only the great blue,
and gravity,
and it's all right,
no space for anything but joy in this sky,
it's too late,
(a relief),
too late for regrets,
too late for a change of mind,
and it's such a relief,
to feel the air rush past,
to know this is it,
to know it's over, it's done, he's done what he could,
he's done his best,
and his mum will understand, she understands,
she will -
[Ruth Tyler understands: that she's failed him; that she failed to see the sky waiting at the back of his eyes; understands that she doesn't matter; and she'll go on, of course, she's done it before, once, twice, she can do it again, pick herself up another time and go on, she needs to believe that, and sometimes she does believe that, sometimes – and then she stands by a mound of earth that's still fresh and she knows that this time is different, and she straightens her back, raises her chin, and there's no place to go, no place to go at all.]
- and he's falling,
too late now,
falling,
and it's so good
to be going, going,
gone,
almost gone,
too late to do anything,
it's over already,
it's over,
the sky gone,
only ground now,
jumping up,
rushing up,
(a relief),
and there's nothing here for him,
nothing, nobody -
[Maya has had a lunch date, another pointless exercise in rebound, and of course anyone should be better than Sam, Sam was unsalvageable from the first, and yet, and yet - and there's an ambulance in front of the building, a small crowd, a colleague turns, sees her, moves to apprehend her, and she knows, she just knows; she trips, runs, pushes through the cluster and reaches the centre just as someone says 'it's over', sinks to her knees as frantic activity is replaced by a stillness that radiates outwards, takes his hand and feels a hand on her shoulder and says, to no one in particular, 'I'm his girlfriend', surprised.]
- and there's
no way to turn back,
no reason,
this is liberation,
this is -
and the last millisecond takes forever,
a glorious, golden eternity,
and then
the ground's there and
things burst, tear and break
and his blood's free to fill spaces inside him
as his brain quietly gives out
and that's that.
***
And I think this is the point where I decide that this needs a month in a drawer.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
Guessed as much. *g*
Date: 2007-04-21 10:30 pm (UTC)Well, I said in my original post that this needs some time in the drawer, and I think it does. I'll try to finish polishing "68 Wives" before I'll get back to this, I think. Because Methos deserves *some* time, too. *g*
Re: Guessed as much. *g*
Date: 2007-04-22 08:38 am (UTC)And also, yes, finish 68 Wives, because I've thought it was postable since, basically, the first time I read it. IT DESERVES TO BE SHARED!