Ficular Stuff
Thursday, 2 March 2006 22:54![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
apollaI've had this kicking around for awhile and thought at least someone might like it. Let me know either way.
Also, is anyone else having issues with the new real text thing on the update page? I'm like WTF?
The bricks were harsh under her bare feet, but she hardly noticed, just as she hardly noticed that they were the bricks that made up the edge of the roof of a fourteen-story building. The wind at that height was quite considerable and whipped at her hair.
The sun was strong, but she hardly noticed, what with all the wind.
She remembered long sunny days in the summer when all that mattered was not getting home too much after Mummy’s curfew... or whether the guy at the corner shop would let her get away with a few extra penny sweets... or if she could ride her bike all the way to the top of the so-called Devil Hills... what to do if it rained... whether Jimmy would be allowed to stay for tea.... if Lucy could come over to play...
She remembered cold winter nights curled up, wrapped in a thick duvet, hoping sleep would hold off long enough to see the end of the film.
Autumn afternoons running through the rain.
Spring mornings with crisp, clean air that felt like a cleaning for her entire respiratory system.
Arguing with Jimmy about the best way to cook spaghetti. Laughing with Lucy at the latest episode of Friends. Teaching Lucy’s littlest sister the proper way to dance to pop music. Listening to Granddad tell stories of the past and the war, when it was less the good old days and more the try-not-to-die years.
Later, when they were older and no wiser, listening to Jimmy talk about his latest girlfriend, Lucy mooning over someone who could be only charitably described as a pop star. Lucy’s eldest sister getting married in a mass of ivory silk and fake roses.
Moving here, to a cramped top floor flat in the middle of London, occasionally visited by mice, terrible water pressure but a small slice of roof that could pass as a terrace if one wished it.
Summer days spent up on the roof, watching the world go by below... Winter nights wishing double-glazing was a little cheaper... Spring, when the rain lashed against the old French windows so hard the water came in... Autumn, when leaves blew up and soggily clogged up the terrace and the guttering.
Balmy evenings spent with friends, crammed onto the little terrace with one patio table and two chairs for six people... Bottles of cheap wine bought at Spar by the guests. Some red, but mostly white.
Cold nights watching black and white movies, all of them piled onto the clapped-out old sofa, creaking every time someone moved to pick up some more Doritos.
The night Jimmy told them he was getting married to a girl called Ellie, they were watching On The Town. He didn’t come to watch movies much after that. Ellie seemed to think there was something suspicious, although about her or Lucy, she never found out.
Lucy was proposed to by her young man Kirk at the last terrace party. It was the last mostly because everyone began to give their excuses after that. They moved on to other things and she stayed on the roof.
Summer came and turned to Autumn, and she cleared another pile of mushed leaves from the gutters. Autumn turned to winter and she stuffed draught excluders against the French windows. Winter became spring and she shoved more putty on the window frames to stop the rain getting in.
Life moved on at ever-increasing speed, except on a little slice of roof fourteen stories from the ground. The only real sign of time’s never-ceasing march was the gradual take-over of the patio furniture by mould and other green gunk.
Jimmy and Ellie called their first child Nina and the second Richard. Lucy and Kirk married, divorced and married other people within the space of two years. The roof terrace remained the same.
The bricks were harsh under her bare feet and the wind stung her face. She idly wondered what would happen if she lost her balance, but it was an idle wondering. She never thought anything more pro-active than idle wonderings anymore.
She idly wondered at what point her life had stopped, frozen in a moment, but hardly cared enough to think too hard. Perhaps it was when she was first enchanted by her roof terrace, a little slice of quiet solitude in the middle of a city that hadn’t slept since before the plagues.
She looked down at the fast-moving world below. It was too far away to hear the traffic or the people, and it was so strange that she could see it all but not hear it. She’d always liked that, but not now. It was too disconnected, too far away.
She lost her balance.
She lost her balance and fell onto the roof. Her knee slammed into the floor and she gashed her hand on the patio chair. Pain seared through her from both and she swore loudly. After a moment, she stood up and, once she’d regained her senses, she realised what had just happened and what might have happened if she’d fallen the other way.
She went inside and cleaned herself up. She put on fresh clothes and shoes, brushed her hair and went downstairs into the street, into the noise and bustle.
She did not return to the roof again.
The End.
The sun was strong, but she hardly noticed, what with all the wind.
She remembered long sunny days in the summer when all that mattered was not getting home too much after Mummy’s curfew... or whether the guy at the corner shop would let her get away with a few extra penny sweets... or if she could ride her bike all the way to the top of the so-called Devil Hills... what to do if it rained... whether Jimmy would be allowed to stay for tea.... if Lucy could come over to play...
She remembered cold winter nights curled up, wrapped in a thick duvet, hoping sleep would hold off long enough to see the end of the film.
Autumn afternoons running through the rain.
Spring mornings with crisp, clean air that felt like a cleaning for her entire respiratory system.
Arguing with Jimmy about the best way to cook spaghetti. Laughing with Lucy at the latest episode of Friends. Teaching Lucy’s littlest sister the proper way to dance to pop music. Listening to Granddad tell stories of the past and the war, when it was less the good old days and more the try-not-to-die years.
Later, when they were older and no wiser, listening to Jimmy talk about his latest girlfriend, Lucy mooning over someone who could be only charitably described as a pop star. Lucy’s eldest sister getting married in a mass of ivory silk and fake roses.
Moving here, to a cramped top floor flat in the middle of London, occasionally visited by mice, terrible water pressure but a small slice of roof that could pass as a terrace if one wished it.
Summer days spent up on the roof, watching the world go by below... Winter nights wishing double-glazing was a little cheaper... Spring, when the rain lashed against the old French windows so hard the water came in... Autumn, when leaves blew up and soggily clogged up the terrace and the guttering.
Balmy evenings spent with friends, crammed onto the little terrace with one patio table and two chairs for six people... Bottles of cheap wine bought at Spar by the guests. Some red, but mostly white.
Cold nights watching black and white movies, all of them piled onto the clapped-out old sofa, creaking every time someone moved to pick up some more Doritos.
The night Jimmy told them he was getting married to a girl called Ellie, they were watching On The Town. He didn’t come to watch movies much after that. Ellie seemed to think there was something suspicious, although about her or Lucy, she never found out.
Lucy was proposed to by her young man Kirk at the last terrace party. It was the last mostly because everyone began to give their excuses after that. They moved on to other things and she stayed on the roof.
Summer came and turned to Autumn, and she cleared another pile of mushed leaves from the gutters. Autumn turned to winter and she stuffed draught excluders against the French windows. Winter became spring and she shoved more putty on the window frames to stop the rain getting in.
Life moved on at ever-increasing speed, except on a little slice of roof fourteen stories from the ground. The only real sign of time’s never-ceasing march was the gradual take-over of the patio furniture by mould and other green gunk.
Jimmy and Ellie called their first child Nina and the second Richard. Lucy and Kirk married, divorced and married other people within the space of two years. The roof terrace remained the same.
The bricks were harsh under her bare feet and the wind stung her face. She idly wondered what would happen if she lost her balance, but it was an idle wondering. She never thought anything more pro-active than idle wonderings anymore.
She idly wondered at what point her life had stopped, frozen in a moment, but hardly cared enough to think too hard. Perhaps it was when she was first enchanted by her roof terrace, a little slice of quiet solitude in the middle of a city that hadn’t slept since before the plagues.
She looked down at the fast-moving world below. It was too far away to hear the traffic or the people, and it was so strange that she could see it all but not hear it. She’d always liked that, but not now. It was too disconnected, too far away.
She lost her balance.
She lost her balance and fell onto the roof. Her knee slammed into the floor and she gashed her hand on the patio chair. Pain seared through her from both and she swore loudly. After a moment, she stood up and, once she’d regained her senses, she realised what had just happened and what might have happened if she’d fallen the other way.
She went inside and cleaned herself up. She put on fresh clothes and shoes, brushed her hair and went downstairs into the street, into the noise and bustle.
She did not return to the roof again.
The End.
