Her hands are always cold nowadays. No matter if she's standing next to a heater or petting her cat or wearing gloves. They say it's poor circulation; poor socialization; poor isolation. Who knows. She's accepted it as a fact of life right now; there's no hand she can hold to warm them.

She communes with buckets of bolts and coaxes miracles from keystrokes, but a living, breathing pile of flesh constricts her throat like a sudden bee sting. At times, she thinks that maybe humans shouldn't have eyes - it's the eyes that scare her, after all. Board up the windows to the souls so many people lack, and it would be better - she's afraid of heights and looking into the abyss.

Or maybe she should just go through life blindfolded, but she's too fond of looking around (at things, never people). Too many times she can see a third or fourth dimension to something flat and pained. It's gotten her in trouble before.

She knows, whatever the rest of the world is, most of it doesn't look in the mirror, and those that do, don't see themselves like she does. Does she stand far back enough to be objective? Or is she too close to be anything but biased? She'll never know, but unlike so many, she wants to. Ignorance is abhorrence to her. That's gotten her in trouble, too.

Right now, she sits where she is, feet losing their shoes. She wonders what would happen if she made a conscious decision to lose her soul.

Current Mood: blank

Christmasy, but this isn't exactly fluff and snowball fights.

Download the lyrics here.
Download Vanessa Carlton's version of 'Greensleeves' here.


( delighting in your company ... )

Current Mood: contemplative

( it felt like Christmastime )

Current Mood: calm

He always hated the main airport in Paris; the big, old fashioned, inefficient doughnut. Yet somehow this was a new low. Stranded by a damn thunderstorm, in December? Hadn't the French heard of snow, at least?

Josh sprawled moodily into a chair at the Air France gates, looking downward, eyes snappish, somehow more annoyed with the fact that if the chair's arms were foldable, he could easily have slept here. Damn it. En route to Iran again, of all places. Cold, tired and soon to be achy. And, of course, alone.

His numbed fingers fished in his back pocket for his wallet, pulling it out and looking through the English money. The English were always the odd ones out, of course, not using the euro, but now, he was thankful for it instead of mocking.

Opening the change pocket with a thumb, he found what he was looking for - amidst the pound and two pound coins, there lay one penny. This one had oxidized somewhat. Its copper had darkened.

Josh slipped it in the breast pocket of his coat and shot his lapels again, feeling them rest against his laid-back chest. He would call Debra in a few hours.

Current Mood: cranky

( I miss the urgency I get when we're alone )

This is something I may post in BtD at some point soon, but I wanted to try it out first; write it down and see if it resonates.

( It banishes fear with the speed of a flame )

Current Mood: blank

fanfic100: The Derevko Sisters

x-posted to fanfic100.

Title: none
Fandom: Alias
Prompt: 66. rain
Word Count: 270
Rating: G
Author's Notes: I don't do titles very often. They always come out sounding trite.

( 1980. Kazakh oblast, UKA base, USSR. )

Title: "Haze"
Suggested For Reading: Bush, The Science of Things

( nothing hurts like your mouth )

Current Mood: devious

Title: "Circle"
Suggested for Reading: Original Soundtrack, Cold Mountain

( Read )

Current Mood: tired

Title: "Androgyny"
Suggested for Reading: Garbage, beautifulgarbage
Not like I think anyone will care, but this is more overtly slashy than I usually write, just fyi.

( Read )

Current Mood: predatory

Title: "Easy Heart"
Suggested For Reading: Whiskeytown, Pneumonia

( Read )

Adrien's eyes are closed, as they’ve been for almost the entire trip. Whether with Kat - his wife, dear God - or as now, sitting in a chair on a sun-ripened balcony, he knows he's feeling a foreign concept - peace.

There's a slight breeze in the air - if he turned his head and opened his eyes, he could see the mountains, but he won‘t. He can hear soft Latin music from somewhere.

His wife walks outside in a bathing suit so brief it makes him blush. He catches her dark hand, tilts his head back, and smiles.

Current Mood: calm

"lucky." jd/kk, for wickedways.

Title: "Lucky"
Suggested For Reading: Ben Folds, Rockin' the Suburbs
07.20.05

( Read )

Title: "If I Were Brave"
Suggested For Reading: Shawn Colvin, A Few Small Repairs
07.11.05

( Read )

N.B. Yes, Kate, this is my original C/C idea, but as I said, the thing mutated a little. *G*

Current Mood: quixotic

Title: "An Ode To Foxglove"
Suggested For Reading: Molly Johnson, Just Another Day
06.16.05

( Read )

Current Mood: amused

Title: "God Only Knows"
Suggested For Reading: Holly Cole, Shade
06.09.05

( Read )

Current Mood: calm

"whispering." jb. alias, 200 words. for sadsadmonkey.

( Spoilers for 4.20, .21 and .22 )

Current Mood: contemplative

katernater I told you I'd post this, so voila. *L* But now I gotta go bed. *G*

Current Mood: sleepy

"shiva." jd. for wickedways.

( Shiva. n. A seven-day period of formal mourning observed after the funeral of a close relative. )

Current Mood: calm