... and done. (I think.) - ficlet, v.5.0
Apr. 28th, 2007 12:56 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
hmpfSome more words removed, one line relocated, one linebreak added. I *think* this is the final version, but I'm going to wait at least until tomorrow or so before I post it to any community or board (again).
I need to build a Life On Mars fic page for my website, because there's more where this came from... And possibly a general LOM section, too, because I have a few rants I could put there... *eg*
***
And then it's suddenly very simple:
his feet slapping on concrete, the last step,
the last,
pushing off with all his power:
only the great blue
and gravity,
no space for anything but joy in this sky,
too late,
(a relief),
too late for regrets,
a change of mind;
a relief
to feel the air rush past,
to know this is it,
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,
(a relief),
going,
going,
almost gone,
it's over already,
it's over,
sky gone,
only ground
jumping up,
rushing up,
and there's nothing here for him,
nothing, nobody -
[Maya has had a lunch date, pointless exercise in rebound, and of course anyone should be better than Sam, Sam was unsalvageable from the first - and there's an ambulance in front of the building, a small crowd, a colleague turns, 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.]
- there's
no way to turn back,
no reason,
this is liberation,
this is -
the last millisecond takes forever,
a glorious, golden eternity,
then
the ground's there and
things burst, tear and break
his blood's free to fill spaces inside him
as his brain quietly gives out
and that's that.
***
So... what should I call it? "No rainbows"? "At the end of the rainbow"? "Starving on the jump down"? "*Splat!*" ;-)
I need to build a Life On Mars fic page for my website, because there's more where this came from... And possibly a general LOM section, too, because I have a few rants I could put there... *eg*
***
And then it's suddenly very simple:
his feet slapping on concrete, the last step,
the last,
pushing off with all his power:
only the great blue
and gravity,
no space for anything but joy in this sky,
too late,
(a relief),
too late for regrets,
a change of mind;
a relief
to feel the air rush past,
to know this is it,
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,
(a relief),
going,
going,
almost gone,
it's over already,
it's over,
sky gone,
only ground
jumping up,
rushing up,
and there's nothing here for him,
nothing, nobody -
[Maya has had a lunch date, pointless exercise in rebound, and of course anyone should be better than Sam, Sam was unsalvageable from the first - and there's an ambulance in front of the building, a small crowd, a colleague turns, 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.]
- there's
no way to turn back,
no reason,
this is liberation,
this is -
the last millisecond takes forever,
a glorious, golden eternity,
then
the ground's there and
things burst, tear and break
his blood's free to fill spaces inside him
as his brain quietly gives out
and that's that.
***
So... what should I call it? "No rainbows"? "At the end of the rainbow"? "Starving on the jump down"? "*Splat!*" ;-)
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-05-02 06:17 pm (UTC)I approve!
While I'd love it if you called it Splat, I vote for Starving on the jump down. It's suitably "artistic", meaningful, confusing. I mean, isn't that what's happening to you? If you replace "jump down" with "desperate search for meaning because I let go of the safety rails and jumped into this damned fandom head first"?
Either way, No Rainbows is a bit of an in-joke and also just...in my opinion, not, well, pretentious enough. Except, this has earned the pretention, if that makes sense?
The point is - it's awesome!
Maybe...
Date: 2007-05-02 07:02 pm (UTC)Seriously, it's all *about* the splat. The absolute, final, fatal reality of the splat.
Hmm. Usually I find titles easy, but somehow, not in this case.
BTW, I just went to the future of the 1980s park again. I've decided to take daily walks now, in an attempt to return to a more normal sleeping rhythm and appetite. (Because those are still completely out of whack.)
Re: Maybe...
Date: 2007-05-03 09:38 pm (UTC)I ALWAYS have trouble with titles. It's the one place I'm sometimes wrong :p
Good luck with the walking. I'm too lazy to do it now, but back when I was walking a couple of miles a day (in addition to loosing like a stone and a half which I promptly put back on) it did actually used to help my sleeping patterns. Not that mine have ever been as out of whack as yours, but it's worth a shot. Plus, I think you mentioned that, like me, thinking is always easier when you're walking.
Wow. I should start walking again. Seriously. I just need to find my personal stereo...