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[Fic] Soul of the Sea
Apr. 5th, 2007 12:56 amTitle: Soul of the Sea
Prompt: ( Lyrics )
Word Count: 3,000
Rating: PG
Summary: ... I can't think of one. I'm fairly sure the song doesn't apply. Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
lyric2lit, a husband and wife argument over when enough is enough.
It was too cold to stand outside without a jacket, and too warm for her heavy overcoat, so she compromised with a velvet shawl her mother had left her. It saw more use in her home than it ever had at her mother's, who eschewed formal occasions where black velvet would have been appropriate. The fridges tickled along her arms in the wind. It felt like little spiders were crawling over her skin.
Every morning for the past week Tisha had walked out onto the balcony and stared out at the harbor, wondering. They were supposed to be back by now.
From the porch she could see the harbor, and as much of the town as remained unobscured by the forest that they had protested and fought so hard to keep intact. She loved the woods, and even though it was too cold to go down and spend much time in them now, at least as she wished, barefoot and running about, she tried to keep her eyes in the treeline and look for the hawks.
It was better than looking for the mast.
Too many arguments. Too many years of just one more season, and it wasn't as though they needed the money anymore. He had a small fleet of boats to do the work for him, men that he hired to drag the nets and carry the pots. And while she appreciated that he wanted to be a part of that and stay connected, the storms and sea were just as hard now as they had been twenty years ago.
( Read more... )
Prompt: ( Lyrics )
Word Count: 3,000
Rating: PG
Summary: ... I can't think of one. I'm fairly sure the song doesn't apply. Written for
lyric2lit, a husband and wife argument over when enough is enough. It was too cold to stand outside without a jacket, and too warm for her heavy overcoat, so she compromised with a velvet shawl her mother had left her. It saw more use in her home than it ever had at her mother's, who eschewed formal occasions where black velvet would have been appropriate. The fridges tickled along her arms in the wind. It felt like little spiders were crawling over her skin.
Every morning for the past week Tisha had walked out onto the balcony and stared out at the harbor, wondering. They were supposed to be back by now.
From the porch she could see the harbor, and as much of the town as remained unobscured by the forest that they had protested and fought so hard to keep intact. She loved the woods, and even though it was too cold to go down and spend much time in them now, at least as she wished, barefoot and running about, she tried to keep her eyes in the treeline and look for the hawks.
It was better than looking for the mast.
Too many arguments. Too many years of just one more season, and it wasn't as though they needed the money anymore. He had a small fleet of boats to do the work for him, men that he hired to drag the nets and carry the pots. And while she appreciated that he wanted to be a part of that and stay connected, the storms and sea were just as hard now as they had been twenty years ago.
( Read more... )