Child of the Streets: Part 2
Late-night Musings
Author's Note: Yes I'm putting another part to this up! I just can't resist digging farther into the hole I've started....Oh yes, and thank you for the reviews of the un-revised edition of the first chapter, I think I fixed the cliche. If not, I give up. ^_-!
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'It's late. Go to sleep,' Collins' inner phonation chided incessantly. It bore a striking resemblance to the gentle voice of Angel. Then again, almost everything reminded Tom of his deceased lover-an inner voice was no exception.
Collins rolled over onto his side, and tried to find another comfortable position. No matter how hard he tried, however, he couldn't get back to sleep. Mind whirring, he finally gave up with a sigh, and turned his reading lamp on. The dim light cascaded down onto a well-loved picture of Angel-taken on the Valentine's day a few years ago. Reaching out, Collins took it in his hands and softly stroked the photograph's cheek.
"Well?" He mumbled, "what do you think? I know, I know, it's late and I should be sleeping instead of talking to you. But it's just-this kid looks so much like you it's frightening. Of course, his hair's a bit messier than yours, and is quite a bit longer-I'm sure you get the picture though."
Silence.
"I'm still trying to decide whether I should turn him in to the lost children office, or keep him myself. If I gave him to them, he'd probably get stuck with another awful foster family. But-could I take care of a little kid? I'm not too good at sticking around one place for any amount of time, I'm a Bohemian! How's a Bohemian supposed to raise a little child? I'd probably end up killing it or something."
Collins could hear in the back of his mind the sound of Angel laughing. A small smile was coaxed onto his face.
"Then again...Angel is a cute little thing, and it would be nice not having to live here alone. But what if-"
Collins could just imagine what Angel would be saying now, sitting on the bed, leg's crossed, filing his nails dutifully.
"What if what? The kid's sweet, and you seem to like him. What, with all your big talk about defying authority and anarchy you don't think you'd make a good father?" The image that talked in Collins' mind smiled, and kissed his cheek. "I think you'd make a great father."
"I know you would. You always talked about wanting to adopt. I feel bad now I never granted that wish."
"Why? Because I died? Collins, you can't let that little thing get in the way of you doing things that you want. Sitting and moping never did anyone any good. Be satisfied that Angel's come along, and presume it was fate."
"Fate...but I'm not responsible enough to raise him!"
"Listen to you! From what I've heard, you practically babysat Mark and Roger after they had both had their losses of love. And you did one hell of a job taking care of me when I was sick." Collins could just imagine the feel of Angel's fingers brushing his hand. "Just give yourself a chance."
The shade disappeared-and Collins was alone with his thoughts once again. With a sigh, Tom fell back to the pillow.
"Maybe I'll keep him around then...but only for a little while."
Late-night Musings
Author's Note: Yes I'm putting another part to this up! I just can't resist digging farther into the hole I've started....Oh yes, and thank you for the reviews of the un-revised edition of the first chapter, I think I fixed the cliche. If not, I give up. ^_-!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
'It's late. Go to sleep,' Collins' inner phonation chided incessantly. It bore a striking resemblance to the gentle voice of Angel. Then again, almost everything reminded Tom of his deceased lover-an inner voice was no exception.
Collins rolled over onto his side, and tried to find another comfortable position. No matter how hard he tried, however, he couldn't get back to sleep. Mind whirring, he finally gave up with a sigh, and turned his reading lamp on. The dim light cascaded down onto a well-loved picture of Angel-taken on the Valentine's day a few years ago. Reaching out, Collins took it in his hands and softly stroked the photograph's cheek.
"Well?" He mumbled, "what do you think? I know, I know, it's late and I should be sleeping instead of talking to you. But it's just-this kid looks so much like you it's frightening. Of course, his hair's a bit messier than yours, and is quite a bit longer-I'm sure you get the picture though."
Silence.
"I'm still trying to decide whether I should turn him in to the lost children office, or keep him myself. If I gave him to them, he'd probably get stuck with another awful foster family. But-could I take care of a little kid? I'm not too good at sticking around one place for any amount of time, I'm a Bohemian! How's a Bohemian supposed to raise a little child? I'd probably end up killing it or something."
Collins could hear in the back of his mind the sound of Angel laughing. A small smile was coaxed onto his face.
"Then again...Angel is a cute little thing, and it would be nice not having to live here alone. But what if-"
Collins could just imagine what Angel would be saying now, sitting on the bed, leg's crossed, filing his nails dutifully.
"What if what? The kid's sweet, and you seem to like him. What, with all your big talk about defying authority and anarchy you don't think you'd make a good father?" The image that talked in Collins' mind smiled, and kissed his cheek. "I think you'd make a great father."
"I know you would. You always talked about wanting to adopt. I feel bad now I never granted that wish."
"Why? Because I died? Collins, you can't let that little thing get in the way of you doing things that you want. Sitting and moping never did anyone any good. Be satisfied that Angel's come along, and presume it was fate."
"Fate...but I'm not responsible enough to raise him!"
"Listen to you! From what I've heard, you practically babysat Mark and Roger after they had both had their losses of love. And you did one hell of a job taking care of me when I was sick." Collins could just imagine the feel of Angel's fingers brushing his hand. "Just give yourself a chance."
The shade disappeared-and Collins was alone with his thoughts once again. With a sigh, Tom fell back to the pillow.
"Maybe I'll keep him around then...but only for a little while."