And I wonder as I lay here, in this sleepless field of dreams..

HELLO!

Somehow you've stumbled upon my blog, scraping the ends of the internet for something interesting.

Instead you found this.
I hope I don't put you to sleep.


Stories of fiction and fact lie dormant in this digital journal. Anything labelled with fiction junction is just that: fiction.

STORIES

» fiction junction. [all stories are sorted by this tag]
» refraction.
» love's weight.
» Viktor's Girls. [an ongoing collection]


do you think of me when I think of you

» Rachel Waa.
» xkcd.
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» not always right.
» stumble upon.
» Lore Olympus.

as the nighttime slowly sings...?

» chih.
» kaylyn.
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» j comeau of A Softer World.


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“if only you could see”
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This flower is for you...
Jun 14, 2008 || 2:36 AM || comment?

She liked to sit by the rushing water. Her bare feet always lightly broke the surface, wetting her toes. She delighted in the ripples that formed around her feet. Auburn hair covered her shoulders, and made a veil as she leaned forward. There may as well have been a tune in her head, for she swayed slightly, back and forth, with a smile on her face.

Under a bridge, the rushing water flowed. A boy with torn jeans and muddy feet stood on this bridge, with a silver fishing pole cast. He bounced on his heels, impatiently, waiting for a fish to bite. From beyond his vantage point, he spotted the veiled figure, sitting close to the water's edge. He squinted his eyes, hoping to make the figure more clear. He barely noticed from out the corner of his eye his fishing pole lifting up and going ever the ledge of the bridge. His cheeks were flushed, a mixture of anger and embarrassment. How was he going to get back his pole?

The girl stared at her reflection for quite sometime, making faces at herself, and remembering how when she was younger, she was told her face would stay like that. Curiosity was a funny thing, because hearing that never stopped her. A low rumbling sound was made, and she clutched her stomach. Luckily she wasn't far from home, a sandwich could be easily made. However, she was reluctant to rise from her spot, much like a cat is reluctant to move out of the sunlight. As she did get up, a glinting thing caught her eye, and she turned back to the water. In the water was a fishing pole, caught between the rocks, and what caught her attention was the hook longing to drift away had it not been tied to the line. It was a nice fishing rod, or so she thought, because it was all rather shiny. She decided to take it for safe keeping. Someone must have lost it, because she knew she'd never intentionally get rid of something so colorful. But no sooner had she made this decision did she see a growing speck in the distance. She saw flailing arms and heard the most discordant of sounds. To her knees she fell, eyes shut tightly. Anything to make the noise stop.

If only he could run faster. That girl with the auburn hair had his fishing pole, and no doubt she would want it for herself. Who wouldn't want such a magnificent fishing pole? He opened his mouth to tell her to stop, to wait, anything to make her stay. He stopped in awe as he watched the girl drop to her knees with her head lowered. She didn't have to surrender to him...he just wanted his fishing pole. He slowed to a walking pace. She lifted her head slowly, to scrutinize him. She noticed his muddy feet first, and instantly realized the fishing pole must have belonged to him. She quickly jumped to her feet, and with both hands offered the fishing pole. She couldn't look him in the eye, for her embarrassment ran deep and surely she was the color of a ripe tomato. Beneath the veil of auburn hair, he wished to see her face, to see who it was that found his fishing pole. He bent down and tried to look under her hair, but she turned quickly away from him and marched away.

He stood there, dumbstruck. What was wrong with her? He stared at his fishing pole for a second before he realized that it was fading. Fading? Fading from what? She must have done something to it. He ran after the girl, who upon hearing his footsteps draw nearer, quickened her own pace. Finally he caught up to her, and grabbed her arm. She tried pulling back from him, but his grip was too firm. And in her hand he placed the fishing pole, as she stood in shock. He watched as his fishing pole went from silver to a variety of pleasing colors. His eyes grew wide, but she seemed the least bit interested. She shoved the pole back in his face, and insisted on leaving. And again he stood there, speechless. The pole was in his hands, once again that silver color. Did she do that intentionally? Or did she even realize what she had done? And exactly what did she do?

When he finally looked up again, she was once again that small speck, and he had no way of finding her after today. Unless...

With tears streaming down her face, she ran. She kept running until breathing became difficult and she was sure her legs would turn into jelly. Even though she slowed down, the crying continued, and her heart was pounding loud in her ears. The pounding grew louder and louder, and she stopped crying, startled at how loud her heart was pounding. It was then she turned out, and noticed that boy from earlier running towards her. Mixed emotions of fear and anger swept through her, then curiosity took over. What could he want with her now? Was that not his fishing pole. She pulled the hair from behind her ears, creating once again that auburn veil over her face.

So much running...he was glad to see she finally stopped, and was actually standing still. He supposed she was waiting for him, why else would she stop? He stopped short of her, he was used to fishing, not running, and naturally he was out of breath. "Hey..." he managed to get out, along with a great exhale.
"Thanks for...what's wrong with you?" He noticed she fell to her knees again, with a cry of pain, and hands covering her ears. Was she insulting him, that his voice was so ugly she couldn't bear to hear him speak? "That's really rude!" He yelled, and her face nearly hit the ground. She was crying profusely now, and with a strained voice she said, "Why are you making that noise?!" Noise? His voice? His puffed out his chest, ready to yell again when she said, "It's a terrible, screeching sound! Why are you...?" Her words became indistinguishable from her cries, and he looked at her in confusion. He remembered something in a tale he read, how anyone that would come to their village would be unable to understand them, let alone bear to hear them speak. Was it more than a tale? It was true, he didn't hear much of anyone passing through their village, was this why? Her crying subsided, and she looked up at him, and he was looking down at her, a little guilty at what he'd done. She got up from the ground, then looked at him for a second, and looked around. "Do you even understand me?" He nodded, half-smiling, but still looking somewhat ashamed. "So that noise...that came from you?" He scratched at the back of his head, then pointed to his lips. He opened his mouth, and she braced herself, but nothing came out, meaning only to symbolize.

She nodded her apprehension, then pointed to the mountain pass. "I live beyond there...I got a little angry, and followed the river up here. I guess I got tired and sat down...then I saw something in the water. I pulled the hook of your fishing rod free. You have a really nice one...." The boy smiled, and mouthed his thanks. She smiled back, then looked away. Then suddenly he remembered. There were white flowers around, and he had an experiment. He motioned for her to follow as he went and plucked a white flower from the patch.

This is for you, he mouthed slowly so she might understand. She smiled and took the flower and bowed slightly. As she bowed, the white faded from the flower, and light pink crept up its petals until there was no sign of it ever being a white flower. The boy's eyes grew wide at this, and she noticed his excitement. She looked at the pink flower in her hand, and suddenly realized what was going on. "Oh this? I can show you something much better!" Without meaning to, she let the flower fall to the ground as she ran back to the water. The boy frowned, and picked up the flower, then ran after her.

She was sitting down now, swinging her feet back and forth in the cool water. The boy arrived soon after, so she sat on her knees and asked him to watch the water. She dipped her fingers in, and the swirling water around turned into swirling shades of red, orange, and yellow. Once the water drifted too far, the color dissipated. He tapped her shoulder, and she looked up at him with a smile. He presented her with the flower again. Please keep it. She took the flower and nodded, then stood up again. I have to go now. Please make it back safely. She nodded, then looked away. "Is it okay if I come back sometime?" He nodded, Of course. She quickly kissed his cheek, then started running back home. She left a bit of red, which was soon masked by his own embarrassment as he made his way home.

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