Authors note/Disclaimer: I don't own WA 3, it belongs to Media Vision/Sony.
A word popped into my head last night. And so spawned this fic. And I know it's short, but I think it needs to stand on it's own and not with the collection. ^_^
"Windswept"
Started and completed January 5th, 2004
By Skylark Starflower
The perch from this rock offers a terrific view of the surrounding landscape. It is an ideal lookout; I can see for miles in every direction. The only scenery this area affords me is rock; sheer cliffs, tall stands of granite and the dusty ground.
And yet, the only word that comes to mind is windswept.
I do not know the origin of the word, but it sounds like something that would be invented by the poets and bards, a refined word used to romanticize the true dusty dreariness of the wasteland.
Windswept.
I do not understand those who wish to romanticize about the life of a Drifter. I highly doubt that any of the poets have ever lived or traveled as Drifters. I believe we need more Drifter poets. Those who could tell it like it truly is.
...
Regardless of what the others may believe, I am no poet. I suppose I should leave the ballads to the professionals.
Glancing across the landscape surrounding the Gunner's Heaven area, I feel torn between two emotions. The first, depression. It has been several months since the incident at the Ark Of Destiny. And still, we must lie low. There have been some close calls, but so far, we have yet to be caught, or injured too seriously. And it has been far too long since I last saw my family.
The second, nostalgia. I cannot help but feel like writing poetry. But the only word I have is windswept.
* * *
Virginia watched Clive silently from the fire as he perched upon the rocks, writing in the small notebook he was always carrying with him. She glanced to Jet and Gallows.
"Either of you have any idea what he writes in that thing?"
The two men shook their heads. Virginia smiled, and called out to Clive. "Supper's ready! You going to join us?"
From where he was sitting, Clive looked up from his notebook, smiled, and waved to Virginia to let her know he'd heard and he'd be right down.
The end.
A word popped into my head last night. And so spawned this fic. And I know it's short, but I think it needs to stand on it's own and not with the collection. ^_^
"Windswept"
Started and completed January 5th, 2004
By Skylark Starflower
The perch from this rock offers a terrific view of the surrounding landscape. It is an ideal lookout; I can see for miles in every direction. The only scenery this area affords me is rock; sheer cliffs, tall stands of granite and the dusty ground.
And yet, the only word that comes to mind is windswept.
I do not know the origin of the word, but it sounds like something that would be invented by the poets and bards, a refined word used to romanticize the true dusty dreariness of the wasteland.
Windswept.
I do not understand those who wish to romanticize about the life of a Drifter. I highly doubt that any of the poets have ever lived or traveled as Drifters. I believe we need more Drifter poets. Those who could tell it like it truly is.
...
Regardless of what the others may believe, I am no poet. I suppose I should leave the ballads to the professionals.
Glancing across the landscape surrounding the Gunner's Heaven area, I feel torn between two emotions. The first, depression. It has been several months since the incident at the Ark Of Destiny. And still, we must lie low. There have been some close calls, but so far, we have yet to be caught, or injured too seriously. And it has been far too long since I last saw my family.
The second, nostalgia. I cannot help but feel like writing poetry. But the only word I have is windswept.
* * *
Virginia watched Clive silently from the fire as he perched upon the rocks, writing in the small notebook he was always carrying with him. She glanced to Jet and Gallows.
"Either of you have any idea what he writes in that thing?"
The two men shook their heads. Virginia smiled, and called out to Clive. "Supper's ready! You going to join us?"
From where he was sitting, Clive looked up from his notebook, smiled, and waved to Virginia to let her know he'd heard and he'd be right down.
The end.