02-01-2009, 04:09 AM
[html]Come get yo' crack, girl!
p. Anu. 300+
Sunset colors bathed the sky and ocean below it as Geneva reflected on the last few weeks. Her life had changed so dramatically, she felt as though her head was still reeling from all the recent events. But oddly, she had never felt more at peace. The struggle, the clash, the rush. Everything seemed so intense, like looking into the flame. It used to be that she'd feel the need to step away, to quiet her mind and observe from afar. But now it seemed that little by little, every day she readied herself to make the leap from the frying pan and into the fire.
She had returned to the scene of the crime, although she wasn't sure why. The lighthouse was as she remembered - her alcohol addled memories hadn't been far off the mark. Rounding the stairs, she'd come once again to the top room, filled with dust and the relics of an age long dead. The gray wolfess trailed her fingers along the grooves along the desktop, leaving paths in the thick dust that had settled there. It tickled her nose as it flew into the air. She held her breath to keep from sneezing. It wasn't long until she felt the tickling in the back of her throat and she gave up, retreating to the outward deck.
She found that she held her breath as the salt-kissed wind swirled around her, bringing the cold breath of winter. At least the air was clean out her, although it stung her lungs. In the dying rays of light, Geneva's lime green eyes unerringly sought and found the bottle resting on the railing of this look out tower. She watched it intently, her face thoughtful as the last few weeks replayed in her mind like an old black and white film.
She had thought long and hard about that first night, had struggled with it and lost sleep, and had once again sought the bottle. And all the while, she had been searching for an answer. She'd endured hang overs, headaches, and humiliation at the mercy of the devil's drink. And she had found her answer. That the part of her she had already come to accept, to cherish as a link inside herself, a part of her that reached out to another in ways she had never known possible, had been there all along. And that what she felt for Anu was true, was deep, and had nothing to do with that blasted drink whatsoever. With resolute steps, Geneva approached the bottle and it had seemed to have lost its luster. She held it in her hand for a moment, her fingers brushing over the label, before she flung it out to sea.
p. Anu. 300+
Sunset colors bathed the sky and ocean below it as Geneva reflected on the last few weeks. Her life had changed so dramatically, she felt as though her head was still reeling from all the recent events. But oddly, she had never felt more at peace. The struggle, the clash, the rush. Everything seemed so intense, like looking into the flame. It used to be that she'd feel the need to step away, to quiet her mind and observe from afar. But now it seemed that little by little, every day she readied herself to make the leap from the frying pan and into the fire.
She had returned to the scene of the crime, although she wasn't sure why. The lighthouse was as she remembered - her alcohol addled memories hadn't been far off the mark. Rounding the stairs, she'd come once again to the top room, filled with dust and the relics of an age long dead. The gray wolfess trailed her fingers along the grooves along the desktop, leaving paths in the thick dust that had settled there. It tickled her nose as it flew into the air. She held her breath to keep from sneezing. It wasn't long until she felt the tickling in the back of her throat and she gave up, retreating to the outward deck.
She found that she held her breath as the salt-kissed wind swirled around her, bringing the cold breath of winter. At least the air was clean out her, although it stung her lungs. In the dying rays of light, Geneva's lime green eyes unerringly sought and found the bottle resting on the railing of this look out tower. She watched it intently, her face thoughtful as the last few weeks replayed in her mind like an old black and white film.
She had thought long and hard about that first night, had struggled with it and lost sleep, and had once again sought the bottle. And all the while, she had been searching for an answer. She'd endured hang overs, headaches, and humiliation at the mercy of the devil's drink. And she had found her answer. That the part of her she had already come to accept, to cherish as a link inside herself, a part of her that reached out to another in ways she had never known possible, had been there all along. And that what she felt for Anu was true, was deep, and had nothing to do with that blasted drink whatsoever. With resolute steps, Geneva approached the bottle and it had seemed to have lost its luster. She held it in her hand for a moment, her fingers brushing over the label, before she flung it out to sea.