The clouds filed in like an audience filling a stadium. An audience for what? Whatever performance this man was giving the king, one supposes.
The news was neither profound in its revelations nor was it consoling. Just a confirmation of what Owen already knew without concretely knowing so to speak. He’d felt it. Deduced it.
And so a mirthless laughter began to spew out of the king. It was uncontrolled and uncalled for, he knew it, but couldn’t care. He had no need to police his behavior before whoever this man was or was trying to be for him.
He had found the word choice to be amusing - madness, patriot’s duty - what could this man know of either?
Owen’s laughter quieted and the king stared thoughtfully at the clouds gathering overhead. He found that since his wife died that people were ever eager to push information at him packaged like some special revelation as if he hadn’t a brain between his ears that could figure things out for itself, as if he hadn’t been an integral part of the country’s politics and implementing policies for damn near three decades. As if he wasn’t a king, a military commander, a father who had raised three perfect daughters in a terribly ugly world. As if he wasn’t a man worth the investment that their precious queen had made in him.
And the way they said things to him: easing into it as if he were a delicate antique or an easily spooked cat.
No he was smarter and tougher than they thought and he would show them all when CAF bombers flew overhead and black warships dotted the sea.
“A patriot’s duty, you say. Unfortunately it comes too little too late. A dozen tabloids and half that number of media organizations will buzz with the news. So what? Elliot’s bid will be called into question, but what do I care?”
He had been speaking towards the sky and finally lowered his gaze to the other man’s. “No meagre serving of justice against Wilder will bring my wife back to me and to her people. And I do not fear his challenge besides...”
Something caught his eye. A colorful gauzy billowing in the trees that lined the cemetery. Owen’s gaze tracked what he alone saw. His wife, dressed in a nearly see-through robe of swishing violet material. Bare feet carried her over the spongey cemetery grass. A tinkling sound from a collection of gold anklets. She stopped by a tree, half hidden behind it. Smiled coyly and waved with her fingers at him. Owen was transfixed. He was conscious of the fact that she wasn’t truly there but he didn’t want to look away.
Owen turned towards the tree and made for it. He’d either entirely forgotten the presence of the other man or felt the conversation had come to a satisfying enough conclusion.
The news was neither profound in its revelations nor was it consoling. Just a confirmation of what Owen already knew without concretely knowing so to speak. He’d felt it. Deduced it.
And so a mirthless laughter began to spew out of the king. It was uncontrolled and uncalled for, he knew it, but couldn’t care. He had no need to police his behavior before whoever this man was or was trying to be for him.
He had found the word choice to be amusing - madness, patriot’s duty - what could this man know of either?
Owen’s laughter quieted and the king stared thoughtfully at the clouds gathering overhead. He found that since his wife died that people were ever eager to push information at him packaged like some special revelation as if he hadn’t a brain between his ears that could figure things out for itself, as if he hadn’t been an integral part of the country’s politics and implementing policies for damn near three decades. As if he wasn’t a king, a military commander, a father who had raised three perfect daughters in a terribly ugly world. As if he wasn’t a man worth the investment that their precious queen had made in him.
And the way they said things to him: easing into it as if he were a delicate antique or an easily spooked cat.
No he was smarter and tougher than they thought and he would show them all when CAF bombers flew overhead and black warships dotted the sea.
“A patriot’s duty, you say. Unfortunately it comes too little too late. A dozen tabloids and half that number of media organizations will buzz with the news. So what? Elliot’s bid will be called into question, but what do I care?”
He had been speaking towards the sky and finally lowered his gaze to the other man’s. “No meagre serving of justice against Wilder will bring my wife back to me and to her people. And I do not fear his challenge besides...”
Something caught his eye. A colorful gauzy billowing in the trees that lined the cemetery. Owen’s gaze tracked what he alone saw. His wife, dressed in a nearly see-through robe of swishing violet material. Bare feet carried her over the spongey cemetery grass. A tinkling sound from a collection of gold anklets. She stopped by a tree, half hidden behind it. Smiled coyly and waved with her fingers at him. Owen was transfixed. He was conscious of the fact that she wasn’t truly there but he didn’t want to look away.
Owen turned towards the tree and made for it. He’d either entirely forgotten the presence of the other man or felt the conversation had come to a satisfying enough conclusion.
Bitch, I'm limited edition.
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Violets are Dead [closed] - by saronym - 05-25-2017, 10:52 PM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by saronym - 05-25-2017, 11:12 PM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by SolitareLee - 05-25-2017, 11:40 PM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by saronym - 05-26-2017, 12:21 AM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by SolitareLee - 05-26-2017, 12:56 AM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by saronym - 06-01-2017, 06:39 PM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by SolitareLee - 06-08-2017, 05:47 PM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by saronym - 06-17-2017, 10:26 PM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by SolitareLee - 06-18-2017, 02:03 PM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by saronym - 06-24-2017, 03:17 PM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by SolitareLee - 06-24-2017, 04:15 PM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by saronym - 06-29-2017, 01:15 AM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by SolitareLee - 07-08-2017, 12:47 PM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by saronym - 07-22-2017, 02:30 PM
RE: Violets are Dead [closed] - by SolitareLee - 08-02-2017, 06:12 PM