whatawaytoburn: ([Cityverse] 4)
[community profile] onefortheroad

For Road Music, sine that seemed to be the most popular choice. I'm probably going to work on telling these stores on and off while I try and do other things as well but we will see how that goes.
whatawaytoburn: ([DaS] Look up)
Note: Doesn't exactly match up with the prompt but well, that is why they are called prompts. Anyway, enjoy!



She doesn't talk to the dead, she can't hear their thoughts through the earth, can't speak to their bones. Sometimes she wishes she could, could hear their whispers around her, could know that they are following her in the night as she moves down the roads, but she can't.

Still, she finds herself at graveyards every now and then, fingers grazing over the statues and gravestones, wandering aimlessly. Some people think she's putting off visitng the grave of a certain someone. others shoo her off, tell her that this place isn't for people like her, people who look homeless and hungry. She doesn't blame them and she usually leaves when they tell her to.

But when she gets peace, when she's there at night or when she's alone, she likes walking through the paths that have been laid out for people, likes listening to the stones and their low, soft voices. She likes the comfort of knowing people have walked the roads she's on, likes feeling the presence of all the things that had ben there before she had.

It's soothing, it's heavy in her chest and comfortable against her feet. She can surround herself with it, not the voices of the dead, but the witnesses of the living, the rock and the paths and the trees and plants that have been left behind by loved ones. She can listen to their whispers and their humming. She can hear the rustle of the plants against the breeze, the soft songs of the statues as they sing for the dead that are buried beneath them.

She likes this, likes feeling like she's found somewhere she can nest in for a while, likes knowing that they won't overwhelm her, won't take her over and tear her apart and leave her ragged and worn.

She knows that the fae stay away from graveyards too, at least most of them. She knows they won't find her here, only ghosts, only the dead and if the dead find her, she will welcome them with a bright smile and open arms.

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Screaming loud enough to turn back the wind.

August 2012

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