Buffista Fic: It Could Be Plot Bunnies
Where the Buffistas let their fanfic creative juices flow. May contain erotica.
Sunday Drabble.
Ghost
Last night, your mother slept in the bedroom at the end of the hall.
She was shaky, but recovering; the improvement was steady. They'd taken the shadowy threat from the parietal lobe of her brain. The bandage was long gone; the hair they had shaved had grown back.
Last night, she'd gone on a date. You'd teased her, both of you; you'd watched her blush. She'd fussed over her clothes, absurdly nervous, somehow reversing the pair of you, her children real and unreal, into the role of parent.
Tonight, you trail through her house like ghosts of her lost life.
Deb, that made me sad, but in a lovely way.
Oh, man. OUCH.
That's about the most painful, tear-making, painful, painful thing I've read in a long time.
Sorry. I'm in full relapse mode tonight and am feeling physically fragile. Also, being mother's day, I got to spend some quite wonderful time on the phone with my daughter this morning. And I was at a wonderful wedding last night.
Combination of things. But a decent piece, as drabble? I thought it was.
Plei, insent awhile back.
But a decent piece, as drabble? I thought it was.
Darn right it was, and more. I'd say it was the best kind of painful, in fact.
Ah, I'm not on the machine with my email. (Technically, I'm in bed, in fact.)
Mother's Day is my traditionally crabby day, though today was much better than last year.
I had to garden, for reasons I'm now too tired from gardening to explain.
Thanks, Perkins. Mine generally come easily, but I would have been more comfortable if this one had taken more than three minutes, considering the way I feel tonight, and the subject matter.
But I did get to play with two angelic horses today: Jake and Thomas, one Belgian and one Percheron, each slightly over 18 hands. Both bought from Amish farms, and unused to attention from people as they now get. They were purest loves, and I whispered Thomas, a Siamese cat of a horse, for about five solid minutes, and he danced in place for me and washed my forehead. They were charmers, both of them.
Plei, email replied to yours. No rush.
Sounds like a great day Deb. I love Percherons.
Mine was pretty good. I decided not to go to work, and to stay home and clean instead, so I feel like I actually accomplished something for a change, then I went to dinner with some Laistas, and watched Bend it like Beckham with Kat.
They were showing "BiLB" at the theatre in St. Helena today, and it reminds me, I must get on DVD. Want to see it something fierce.
I need to go take my nighttime meds, which are going to knock me out, which is a good thing. I'm hosting writers group tomorrow and Buffy Tuesday and I came home and prepped tomatoes and sausage and whatnot for lasagne for both. That's because I'm frellin' insane.
Saying bestest dreams to all, and keeling over.