still own nothing.
okay, just a quick one here. I have more written, but not much yet and i have a desperate need right now to go rent monty python videos. Damn my britlit prof for mentioning monty python about fifty times in class the other day. Much craving. Also need caffeine. So, very short chapter until i feed my cravings. british comedy rocks my world.
"i can't see my reflection in the water
i can't speak no sounds to show no pain
i can't hear the echo of my footsteps
or remember the sound of my own name."
- dylan
*****************
Luke's apartment was still dark at five thirty in the morning, but he stumbled out of bed with a groan, had to be ready to feed the masses who wanted coffee ever earlier. In the lingering lilt of the stars he remembered the kiss last night, and almost smiled at the memory, through his cringing scowl. He didn't know, anymore, whether he really wished it hadn't happened. A shock, a tease, a joke - Yet the memory of it lingered pleasantly, and besides - Last night it had seemed his doom, today in the morning stretching grayness he realized that it, like everything else, would pass and the fear of awkward apocalpytical drama was ridiculous.
A slightly altered reality becomes quickly accepted, and he regretted most that today he wouldn't be able to enjoy Lorelai's standard visit, if she came to the diner at all. He wished the awkwardness would just hurry up and pass, that a new pattern would emerge, a new sense of reality, and with it that one small pleasure of a kiss in his memory, whatever would come of his life or hers.
Well, anyway - there was the same pattern as usual. The same stumbling to the bathroom - like a children's colouring book, the lines the same. Today like a sky filled carefully with green and purple crayon. But the pattern the same, his mind stetching out to absurdity while his body moved reliably through the day. Downstairs. Open the diner. Lights. Sign. Coffee. The sun not yet visible, but forms emerging from the blackness, blanketed in grays and blues.
As Luke sighed and resigned himself to the day, Lorelai mumbled to her pillow and committed shocking acts of violence against her alarm. The presunlight glimpses began to stretch across her room, yawning through the blinds.
Lorelai rolled over on her back, eyes full and awake directed at the ceiling.
She remembered.
And smiled.
And frowned.
With a groan, her body arched out of bed drug down the stairs as though in subconscious search of coffee.
Lorelai sat at the kitchen table, bright light of morning reflected on snow glaring at her. She sipped her coffee and stared emptily ahead, troubled.
"Mom!" Rory was surprised to find her up so early, and so awake. "What's wrong? Couldn't sleep?"
"Surprise surprise."
"You could go talk to Luke."
"Uh, No, I'm fine. Plenty of coffee." She smiled weakly.
"Last night's realizations still stand?"
"Yup," stated Lorelai decisively. "And I'm screwed."
"Naw. Just go talk to him."
"Why?"
"You can't pretend nothing happened ..." Lorelai frowned.
"Why not?"
"Mom, go. He won't open for another half hour, and you'll feel better if you get it over with."
"I dont think it's a good idea."
"Scaredy cat."
"So?"
"So go. Now. Out." She playfully shoved her mother out the door, hiding a giggle. Lorelai squinted at the light, the early morning sun ducking behind a cloud as she stepped outside. All was dim and grayish now, and the air cold. She walked down the street, nervousness eating at her insides. She wasn't quite sure what she would say to him, but knew an apology would be in there somewhere. Probably best to leave it at that, she decided. We can get over a silly impulsive kiss. Realizing how hurriedly she shot along in her nervousness, she slowed her pace, inching forward very deliberately. Pausing, now and then, to stare at something she didn't really see.
okay, just a quick one here. I have more written, but not much yet and i have a desperate need right now to go rent monty python videos. Damn my britlit prof for mentioning monty python about fifty times in class the other day. Much craving. Also need caffeine. So, very short chapter until i feed my cravings. british comedy rocks my world.
"i can't see my reflection in the water
i can't speak no sounds to show no pain
i can't hear the echo of my footsteps
or remember the sound of my own name."
- dylan
*****************
Luke's apartment was still dark at five thirty in the morning, but he stumbled out of bed with a groan, had to be ready to feed the masses who wanted coffee ever earlier. In the lingering lilt of the stars he remembered the kiss last night, and almost smiled at the memory, through his cringing scowl. He didn't know, anymore, whether he really wished it hadn't happened. A shock, a tease, a joke - Yet the memory of it lingered pleasantly, and besides - Last night it had seemed his doom, today in the morning stretching grayness he realized that it, like everything else, would pass and the fear of awkward apocalpytical drama was ridiculous.
A slightly altered reality becomes quickly accepted, and he regretted most that today he wouldn't be able to enjoy Lorelai's standard visit, if she came to the diner at all. He wished the awkwardness would just hurry up and pass, that a new pattern would emerge, a new sense of reality, and with it that one small pleasure of a kiss in his memory, whatever would come of his life or hers.
Well, anyway - there was the same pattern as usual. The same stumbling to the bathroom - like a children's colouring book, the lines the same. Today like a sky filled carefully with green and purple crayon. But the pattern the same, his mind stetching out to absurdity while his body moved reliably through the day. Downstairs. Open the diner. Lights. Sign. Coffee. The sun not yet visible, but forms emerging from the blackness, blanketed in grays and blues.
As Luke sighed and resigned himself to the day, Lorelai mumbled to her pillow and committed shocking acts of violence against her alarm. The presunlight glimpses began to stretch across her room, yawning through the blinds.
Lorelai rolled over on her back, eyes full and awake directed at the ceiling.
She remembered.
And smiled.
And frowned.
With a groan, her body arched out of bed drug down the stairs as though in subconscious search of coffee.
Lorelai sat at the kitchen table, bright light of morning reflected on snow glaring at her. She sipped her coffee and stared emptily ahead, troubled.
"Mom!" Rory was surprised to find her up so early, and so awake. "What's wrong? Couldn't sleep?"
"Surprise surprise."
"You could go talk to Luke."
"Uh, No, I'm fine. Plenty of coffee." She smiled weakly.
"Last night's realizations still stand?"
"Yup," stated Lorelai decisively. "And I'm screwed."
"Naw. Just go talk to him."
"Why?"
"You can't pretend nothing happened ..." Lorelai frowned.
"Why not?"
"Mom, go. He won't open for another half hour, and you'll feel better if you get it over with."
"I dont think it's a good idea."
"Scaredy cat."
"So?"
"So go. Now. Out." She playfully shoved her mother out the door, hiding a giggle. Lorelai squinted at the light, the early morning sun ducking behind a cloud as she stepped outside. All was dim and grayish now, and the air cold. She walked down the street, nervousness eating at her insides. She wasn't quite sure what she would say to him, but knew an apology would be in there somewhere. Probably best to leave it at that, she decided. We can get over a silly impulsive kiss. Realizing how hurriedly she shot along in her nervousness, she slowed her pace, inching forward very deliberately. Pausing, now and then, to stare at something she didn't really see.