As Tears Go By
"Daddy! Daddy, are you watching?" my son calls to me. He sits in a sandbox, holding a large handful of sand up in the air. "Watch, Daddy, watch me!"
He pours the sand down back into the box again. I smile at him. "Great, Aric. Great job."
Aric runs off then, with the intent of following a butterfly that's passed by him. I watch, almost wanting to laugh. The butterfly is far ahead of him, and there's no chance of him ever catching it. One part of me wants to call out, though. I want to say, 'Aric, don't bother. You won't ever catch it.' I'm ashamed of that part.
I remember when I did that. I'd run off after the butterflies and almost catch them. Never really got one, though. Once there was a monarch, though, that sat on my hand. I wanted to touch its wings; they were such bright orange colours. It flew off before my fingers got close. I stopped chasing butterflies after I was about six. I was too busy being a "big boy" and acting "tough" to chase butterflies.
The yard is beautiful tonight. The sun is setting and casting all the plants a reddish colour. Ripples run through the grass. Birds sing in our one tree. I want to just lay in it and close my eyes and soak up the colour and sound. I'd never get up if I tried that, though. I remain seated on the wrought-iron bench, watching Aric, who has moved on to picking some pretty flowers.
Aric is so innocent. I realize that he's only five and should be innocent, but he seems so much more naive than I ever was. I've always been somewhat cynical, though, so I'm not exactly the best example of childhood purity.
Lately, it's been worse than ever. After /she/ filed for divorce--why? I can't have been that bad of a person; I tried to schedule my tours around her--I've been so "hard and hostile", or so says my lawyer. So I blew up him and said some unrepeatable things. It was a bad day. Did she have to file for divorce and then set up interviews with three different magazines on the same day? I know she'll badmouth me through all of them. Maybe she'll go on about how she needs to have custody of Aric.
She can't have custody. She just can't. All of her claims are false. I do /not/ have a drinking problem. I haven't had "scenes" in which she had reason to fear for Aric's safety. I do not have weak morals that could rub off on Aric. Sometimes I'm rash, but she's lying. She's lying.
The sunset is suddenly ruined by rain. It's a true downpour, and my hair is already soaked. Aric is singing and dancing in it. I frown for a second as I watch him, trying to remember if I ever did such a thing.
"Aric," I call, beckoning to him. He runs over to me, still humming his song. "Time to go inside, kid. Your mom is going to be here soon to pick you up."
He pouts. "Can't I stay here?"
"Soon, you can," I promise, hoping that he will. "Then you can stay here all the time and we'll have a great time."
"Okay." With his hand in mine, we walk inside my little house.
The doorbell rings. /She's/ waiting, tapping her foot impatiently. I let her in and she stands in the middle of my living room, her eyes darting around as if she expects to see cockroaches having a dance party on my sofa.
"Hello, Matt."
"Sora."
Our tones are equally icy. Aric, who is still soaked, runs up to her to hug her 'round the leg. She deftly stops him while looking at me. "Will you be in town still, or have you got yet another tour? I'd like to know so that I don't bother coming here when you're off in Europe or America."
"I told you. I've delayed my next tour until this...issue is settled." My teeth are clenched.
"All right, then. Come on, Aric." She heads swiftly for the door, dragging Aric along by the wrist.
He turns back and waves at me. "Bye, Daddy! See you later!" With a strong jerk, he's pulled out the front door, which is then slammed.
I stand there for several minutes after this particular scene, my mind blank except for Aric's song, which plays in my head over and over.
~*~
It is the evening of the day,
I sit and watch the children play.
Smiling faces I can see, but not for me,
I sit and watch as tears go by.
My riches can't buy ev'rythng,
I want to hear the children sing.
All I hear is the sound of rain falling on the ground,
I sit and watch as tears go by.
It is the evening of the day,
I sit and watch the children play.
Doin' things I used to do they think are new.
I sit and watch as tears go by.
Inspired by the above song. I suppose there's not much to say. I was kinda thinking of making a little mini-series of scenes in which the Digidestined are adults. Should I? But anyway, the song belongs to Mick Jagger, I believe--he wrote most of the Rolling Stones stuff, after all-- and the characters belong to Toei. The story is mine, though I don't see why you'd want to steal it. It's pretty pathetic. Please, please, please review. I think this was terrible, and I want other peoples' opinions.
'Til next time,
Celestia Maxwell
"Daddy! Daddy, are you watching?" my son calls to me. He sits in a sandbox, holding a large handful of sand up in the air. "Watch, Daddy, watch me!"
He pours the sand down back into the box again. I smile at him. "Great, Aric. Great job."
Aric runs off then, with the intent of following a butterfly that's passed by him. I watch, almost wanting to laugh. The butterfly is far ahead of him, and there's no chance of him ever catching it. One part of me wants to call out, though. I want to say, 'Aric, don't bother. You won't ever catch it.' I'm ashamed of that part.
I remember when I did that. I'd run off after the butterflies and almost catch them. Never really got one, though. Once there was a monarch, though, that sat on my hand. I wanted to touch its wings; they were such bright orange colours. It flew off before my fingers got close. I stopped chasing butterflies after I was about six. I was too busy being a "big boy" and acting "tough" to chase butterflies.
The yard is beautiful tonight. The sun is setting and casting all the plants a reddish colour. Ripples run through the grass. Birds sing in our one tree. I want to just lay in it and close my eyes and soak up the colour and sound. I'd never get up if I tried that, though. I remain seated on the wrought-iron bench, watching Aric, who has moved on to picking some pretty flowers.
Aric is so innocent. I realize that he's only five and should be innocent, but he seems so much more naive than I ever was. I've always been somewhat cynical, though, so I'm not exactly the best example of childhood purity.
Lately, it's been worse than ever. After /she/ filed for divorce--why? I can't have been that bad of a person; I tried to schedule my tours around her--I've been so "hard and hostile", or so says my lawyer. So I blew up him and said some unrepeatable things. It was a bad day. Did she have to file for divorce and then set up interviews with three different magazines on the same day? I know she'll badmouth me through all of them. Maybe she'll go on about how she needs to have custody of Aric.
She can't have custody. She just can't. All of her claims are false. I do /not/ have a drinking problem. I haven't had "scenes" in which she had reason to fear for Aric's safety. I do not have weak morals that could rub off on Aric. Sometimes I'm rash, but she's lying. She's lying.
The sunset is suddenly ruined by rain. It's a true downpour, and my hair is already soaked. Aric is singing and dancing in it. I frown for a second as I watch him, trying to remember if I ever did such a thing.
"Aric," I call, beckoning to him. He runs over to me, still humming his song. "Time to go inside, kid. Your mom is going to be here soon to pick you up."
He pouts. "Can't I stay here?"
"Soon, you can," I promise, hoping that he will. "Then you can stay here all the time and we'll have a great time."
"Okay." With his hand in mine, we walk inside my little house.
The doorbell rings. /She's/ waiting, tapping her foot impatiently. I let her in and she stands in the middle of my living room, her eyes darting around as if she expects to see cockroaches having a dance party on my sofa.
"Hello, Matt."
"Sora."
Our tones are equally icy. Aric, who is still soaked, runs up to her to hug her 'round the leg. She deftly stops him while looking at me. "Will you be in town still, or have you got yet another tour? I'd like to know so that I don't bother coming here when you're off in Europe or America."
"I told you. I've delayed my next tour until this...issue is settled." My teeth are clenched.
"All right, then. Come on, Aric." She heads swiftly for the door, dragging Aric along by the wrist.
He turns back and waves at me. "Bye, Daddy! See you later!" With a strong jerk, he's pulled out the front door, which is then slammed.
I stand there for several minutes after this particular scene, my mind blank except for Aric's song, which plays in my head over and over.
~*~
It is the evening of the day,
I sit and watch the children play.
Smiling faces I can see, but not for me,
I sit and watch as tears go by.
My riches can't buy ev'rythng,
I want to hear the children sing.
All I hear is the sound of rain falling on the ground,
I sit and watch as tears go by.
It is the evening of the day,
I sit and watch the children play.
Doin' things I used to do they think are new.
I sit and watch as tears go by.
Inspired by the above song. I suppose there's not much to say. I was kinda thinking of making a little mini-series of scenes in which the Digidestined are adults. Should I? But anyway, the song belongs to Mick Jagger, I believe--he wrote most of the Rolling Stones stuff, after all-- and the characters belong to Toei. The story is mine, though I don't see why you'd want to steal it. It's pretty pathetic. Please, please, please review. I think this was terrible, and I want other peoples' opinions.
'Til next time,
Celestia Maxwell
