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I'm bored. Thought I'd write something. it's a bit gay though. Suggestions welcome:
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Are you going to stand there forever?
Peter stared at the crashing waves for what must have been an age. The wind coursed through his black hair and seemed to beckon him over the face of the cliff with every gentle gust. There was a look of simple dispassion on his face as he slowly clenched and unclenched his fists. He took a deep breath of the cool, fresh air, and let it out again before finally pulling his eyes away from the green white surf, only to then fix his gaze instead on the passing clouds above.
So it had come to this, then?
A shiver pulsed through his body, raising every hair on his body on end. One step was all it would take. One step to vindication. One step to realise a dream, and unleash the strength which otherwise evaded him. A bird of prey Peter couldn’t see screeched loudly as it flew through the air. Only a part of a cacophony of noise that surrounded him as he tried to empty his thoughts. But the thoughts fought back with their irrefutable logic. This wasn’t a beginning. It could only be an end. They had been right. They had all been right. The power he felt, the visions he experienced. It was just his imagination.
You can’t fly, you blasted fool!
“I don’t intend to fly.” he responded aloud to the rebellious logic “ I don’t need to fly.”
A crash of water against unrelenting, ageless rock brought his attention back to foamy liquid swirling below him. With an effort, he lifted his hand to his face, and rubbed away tension he hadn’t realised was there. This wasn’t a mistake. It couldn’t be. He had felt the strength touch his mind. He had heard the earth talk to him as clearly as he heard the powerful water battering the cliff now. There could be no mistake. This was what had to be done. There was no other option. Peter’s hand dropped away from his face. He let his eyes roll back into his head as he took one firm stride forward.
No! Don’t!
But it was done. He tumbled down the cliff towards the waiting water. Water which suddenly looked as solid as the stone it had spent an eternity trying to break past. But there was no panic. Peter drew his mind into itself as he had done so many times before. As time slowed down to a crawl, he reached out, and listened to the earth.
“Here I am,” he said, although no sound could exit his mouth before being swept away by the air as he dropped past it “as I promised.”
There you are. Came the reply. The soothing, gentle voice that had bewitched and entranced him for months. There you are. Be strong, now.
There was no time to decipher the meaning behind those words as Peter crashed feet first into surf that had the constitution of wet tarmac. The first moment of panic swept through him as the logic reminded him of the inevitable. You’re going to die! He was caught between keeping his connection open with the earth, and listening to the logic, and kicking his way to the surface. Air! Need air! For the first time, Peter doubted the wisdom of his actions.
Do not fear. You are beyond harm now, here. Just as the water accepts you, so too do we embrace you as our Voice. You have endured much, my love.
With those words, doubt extinguished itself from his mind. He opened his eyes, and found that he could see clearly, despite the swelling water. From some distance away, a form moved towards him through the water. She came toward him – not swimming – simply moving through the water, as though it were no barrier to transition. It was her. The Voice of the Earth. The incredible being he had discovered in an instant of purest concentration. The power beyond mortality that he had longed to touch. And now, at last, they could be together.
=============================================
Are you going to stand there forever?
Peter stared at the crashing waves for what must have been an age. The wind coursed through his black hair and seemed to beckon him over the face of the cliff with every gentle gust. There was a look of simple dispassion on his face as he slowly clenched and unclenched his fists. He took a deep breath of the cool, fresh air, and let it out again before finally pulling his eyes away from the green white surf, only to then fix his gaze instead on the passing clouds above.
So it had come to this, then?
A shiver pulsed through his body, raising every hair on his body on end. One step was all it would take. One step to vindication. One step to realise a dream, and unleash the strength which otherwise evaded him. A bird of prey Peter couldn’t see screeched loudly as it flew through the air. Only a part of a cacophony of noise that surrounded him as he tried to empty his thoughts. But the thoughts fought back with their irrefutable logic. This wasn’t a beginning. It could only be an end. They had been right. They had all been right. The power he felt, the visions he experienced. It was just his imagination.
You can’t fly, you blasted fool!
“I don’t intend to fly.” he responded aloud to the rebellious logic “ I don’t need to fly.”
A crash of water against unrelenting, ageless rock brought his attention back to foamy liquid swirling below him. With an effort, he lifted his hand to his face, and rubbed away tension he hadn’t realised was there. This wasn’t a mistake. It couldn’t be. He had felt the strength touch his mind. He had heard the earth talk to him as clearly as he heard the powerful water battering the cliff now. There could be no mistake. This was what had to be done. There was no other option. Peter’s hand dropped away from his face. He let his eyes roll back into his head as he took one firm stride forward.
No! Don’t!
But it was done. He tumbled down the cliff towards the waiting water. Water which suddenly looked as solid as the stone it had spent an eternity trying to break past. But there was no panic. Peter drew his mind into itself as he had done so many times before. As time slowed down to a crawl, he reached out, and listened to the earth.
“Here I am,” he said, although no sound could exit his mouth before being swept away by the air as he dropped past it “as I promised.”
There you are. Came the reply. The soothing, gentle voice that had bewitched and entranced him for months. There you are. Be strong, now.
There was no time to decipher the meaning behind those words as Peter crashed feet first into surf that had the constitution of wet tarmac. The first moment of panic swept through him as the logic reminded him of the inevitable. You’re going to die! He was caught between keeping his connection open with the earth, and listening to the logic, and kicking his way to the surface. Air! Need air! For the first time, Peter doubted the wisdom of his actions.
Do not fear. You are beyond harm now, here. Just as the water accepts you, so too do we embrace you as our Voice. You have endured much, my love.
With those words, doubt extinguished itself from his mind. He opened his eyes, and found that he could see clearly, despite the swelling water. From some distance away, a form moved towards him through the water. She came toward him – not swimming – simply moving through the water, as though it were no barrier to transition. It was her. The Voice of the Earth. The incredible being he had discovered in an instant of purest concentration. The power beyond mortality that he had longed to touch. And now, at last, they could be together.
I liked it. Pre-jump is good, looking on, readying himself, liked that very much.
I like the voice of the earth beckoning him, convincing him, trying to 'bury' him.
Overall, it was convincing - the kind of thing that might be going on in the last moments of a disturbed mind.
Overall, it was convincing - the kind of thing that might be going on in the last moments of a disturbed mind.
I'm bored. Thought I'd write something. it's a bit gay though. Suggestions welcome:
=============================================
Are you going to stand there forever?
Peter stared at the crashing waves for what must have been an age. The wind coursed through his black hair and seemed to beckon him over the face of the cliff with every gentle gust. There was a look of simple dispassion on his face as he slowly clenched and unclenched his fists. He took a deep breath of the cool, fresh air, and let it out again before finally pulling his eyes away from the green white surf, only to then fix his gaze instead on the passing clouds above.
So it had come to this, then?
A shiver pulsed through his body, raising every hair on his body on end. One step was all it would take. One step to vindication. One step to realise a dream, and unleash the strength which otherwise evaded him. A bird of prey Peter couldn’t see screeched loudly as it flew through the air. Only a part of a cacophony of noise that surrounded him as he tried to empty his thoughts. But the thoughts fought back with their irrefutable logic. This wasn’t a beginning. It could only be an end. They had been right. They had all been right. The power he felt, the visions he experienced. It was just his imagination.
You can’t fly, you blasted fool!
“I don’t intend to fly.” he responded aloud to the rebellious logic “ I don’t need to fly.”
A crash of water against unrelenting, ageless rock brought his attention back to foamy liquid swirling below him. With an effort, he lifted his hand to his face, and rubbed away tension he hadn’t realised was there. This wasn’t a mistake. It couldn’t be. He had felt the strength touch his mind. He had heard the earth talk to him as clearly as he heard the powerful water battering the cliff now. There could be no mistake. This was what had to be done. There was no other option. Peter’s hand dropped away from his face. He let his eyes roll back into his head as he took one firm stride forward.
No! Don’t!
But it was done. He tumbled down the cliff towards the waiting water. Water which suddenly looked as solid as the stone it had spent an eternity trying to break past. But there was no panic. Peter drew his mind into itself as he had done so many times before. As time slowed down to a crawl, he reached out, and listened to the earth.
“Here I am,” he said, although no sound could exit his mouth before being swept away by the air as he dropped past it “as I promised.”
There you are. Came the reply. The soothing, gentle voice that had bewitched and entranced him for months. There you are. Be strong, now.
There was no time to decipher the meaning behind those words as Peter crashed feet first into surf that had the constitution of wet tarmac. The first moment of panic swept through him as the logic reminded him of the inevitable. You’re going to die! He was caught between keeping his connection open with the earth, and listening to the logic, and kicking his way to the surface. Air! Need air! For the first time, Peter doubted the wisdom of his actions.
Do not fear. You are beyond harm now, here. Just as the water accepts you, so too do we embrace you as our Voice. You have endured much, my love.
With those words, doubt extinguished itself from his mind. He opened his eyes, and found that he could see clearly, despite the swelling water. From some distance away, a form moved towards him through the water. She came toward him – not swimming – simply moving through the water, as though it were no barrier to transition. It was her. The Voice of the Earth. The incredible being he had discovered in an instant of purest concentration. The power beyond mortality that he had longed to touch. And now, at last, they could be together.
=============================================
Are you going to stand there forever?
Peter stared at the crashing waves for what must have been an age. The wind coursed through his black hair and seemed to beckon him over the face of the cliff with every gentle gust. There was a look of simple dispassion on his face as he slowly clenched and unclenched his fists. He took a deep breath of the cool, fresh air, and let it out again before finally pulling his eyes away from the green white surf, only to then fix his gaze instead on the passing clouds above.
So it had come to this, then?
A shiver pulsed through his body, raising every hair on his body on end. One step was all it would take. One step to vindication. One step to realise a dream, and unleash the strength which otherwise evaded him. A bird of prey Peter couldn’t see screeched loudly as it flew through the air. Only a part of a cacophony of noise that surrounded him as he tried to empty his thoughts. But the thoughts fought back with their irrefutable logic. This wasn’t a beginning. It could only be an end. They had been right. They had all been right. The power he felt, the visions he experienced. It was just his imagination.
You can’t fly, you blasted fool!
“I don’t intend to fly.” he responded aloud to the rebellious logic “ I don’t need to fly.”
A crash of water against unrelenting, ageless rock brought his attention back to foamy liquid swirling below him. With an effort, he lifted his hand to his face, and rubbed away tension he hadn’t realised was there. This wasn’t a mistake. It couldn’t be. He had felt the strength touch his mind. He had heard the earth talk to him as clearly as he heard the powerful water battering the cliff now. There could be no mistake. This was what had to be done. There was no other option. Peter’s hand dropped away from his face. He let his eyes roll back into his head as he took one firm stride forward.
No! Don’t!
But it was done. He tumbled down the cliff towards the waiting water. Water which suddenly looked as solid as the stone it had spent an eternity trying to break past. But there was no panic. Peter drew his mind into itself as he had done so many times before. As time slowed down to a crawl, he reached out, and listened to the earth.
“Here I am,” he said, although no sound could exit his mouth before being swept away by the air as he dropped past it “as I promised.”
There you are. Came the reply. The soothing, gentle voice that had bewitched and entranced him for months. There you are. Be strong, now.
There was no time to decipher the meaning behind those words as Peter crashed feet first into surf that had the constitution of wet tarmac. The first moment of panic swept through him as the logic reminded him of the inevitable. You’re going to die! He was caught between keeping his connection open with the earth, and listening to the logic, and kicking his way to the surface. Air! Need air! For the first time, Peter doubted the wisdom of his actions.
Do not fear. You are beyond harm now, here. Just as the water accepts you, so too do we embrace you as our Voice. You have endured much, my love.
With those words, doubt extinguished itself from his mind. He opened his eyes, and found that he could see clearly, despite the swelling water. From some distance away, a form moved towards him through the water. She came toward him – not swimming – simply moving through the water, as though it were no barrier to transition. It was her. The Voice of the Earth. The incredible being he had discovered in an instant of purest concentration. The power beyond mortality that he had longed to touch. And now, at last, they could be together.