Participants:
| Scene Title | The Time And In Between |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Drifting. |
| Date | Aug 25, 2009 |
Beyond Reach … Perhaps
A kaleidescope of faces.
Teo's crooked Italian-boy grin. Dad's bear hugs. Richard's wicked smile looking over his shades. Conrad's smirk as he shoved his hands in his pockets. Norton's gentle eyes. Felix's very expressive vulpine sneer of amusement. Cat's always-thoughtful expression playing guitar. Cassidy's laughter over margaritas. Baxter's sly grin and 'heeeeyyyyy, pretty!' Helena's carefree face on Cat's roof. Alex with Leonard's watchful expression. Kaydence's fierce look that made everyone back off. Mack's lazy grin slouched in a chair in the precinct. Will's searching look on the other side of his desk asking about loyalties.
Shards of memory.
Playing the piano in Washington Irving's music room, the keys cool beneath her fingers. The prickling at the back of her neck when Sophomore Jade Meyers's simply amazing contralto rang through the room. The smell of french fries at the Nite Owl with Teo. A flicker of sound, waves against a piling. Amusement as Conrad and Abby bickered over the stuffing at Christmas. The contentment of sitting curled against Norton on the grass in Central Park at an open-air concert. The shock of gunfire at the battle at Sea View. A waft of rotting fish and sea air. Rage as she faced off with Will over Abby. The terrible smell of burned flesh as Baxter crumpled to the ground near Isabelle. The adrenaline rush of flirting with Mack on Staten Island in front of Deckard. The sheer lazy pleasure of waking up to see a particular shadow's smile.
Fragments of a life unlived.
Places she wanted to see… castles in Germany. Vineyards in France. A beach in Greece. The feel of cold, gritty, wet sand. Horseback riding in the Grand Canyon. Singing on stage. The scrunched up face of a baby. Regret…
Voices not so much heard as sensed.
Drifting in a midnight sky, wings of moonlight and stardust whispering past. A kiss of a breeze.
No pain here … only peace.
It is here, in the place between awake and asleep … between life and death… that you must choose.
A soundless wisp in the ether. A hint of salt.
We can go now, if you like. So much hurt … You don't have to fight this hard. But you do have the choice.
A brush of ephemeral fingertips, an instinctive seeking of a familiar touch. A fleeting smell of perfume. Relief … love … sadness.
Time is very short, but there is still the chance. If you fight a little longer … maybe.
Confusion. Agony racing through her body. Movement. Memories rip at the peace. Fingers broken. Ribs broken. Knife cutting into tender skin. Steel-toed boots in ruptured spleen. Terror. Retreat into the fantasy. Indecision.
Everything will work out as it's supposed to. I'll wait with you.
Fear. What's to come? Sadness. Too much left behind. The sense of rocking.
Don't be afraid, little girl. I'll be right here… I've always been right here.