prairie_grass (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
prairie_grass) wrote2009-02-19 12:08 am
prairie_grass) wrote2009-02-19 12:08 am
Entry tags:
More Fic. Original: Ella In The Rain
Okay so, after consultation it was been agreed that DMT_07 will be chopped for the second time and turn into 7 and 8. However, before we get ahead of ourselves, another of my week-of-short-stories. This one IS original fic. Yay me.
(Previous Short-Story Challenge Entries: #01: Spn - Beds.)
Title: Ella In The Rain
Short-Story Challenge Entry: #02
Author: Page Russet (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
page_r)
Rating: G
Summary: On both sides of the window it's raining.
Word Count: 444 (symmetry ftw!)
Warnings: unbeta'd. written at midnight.
Disclaimer: I CLAIM! IT IS MINE! ALL MINE! *clutches at copyright*
--
Ella could never figure out if that iron-smell of rain was because of how rain smells or just how cement smells when it’s wet.
It’s been too long since she’s been out in the country for her to remember for sure.
When she was small her parents would go out to a friend’s farm. Or orchard. Whatever you call a place that grows grapes and olives.
On those days, she felt like her whole world opened out like a pop-up book. Achieving new dimensions. The sky stretched out so much further, right up to the mountains, and the air was so clean you could just take never-ending gulpfulls of it. But that was a long time ago. And now she can’t remember what it smelt like in the rain.
The door opens behind her but she doesn’t turn, just pushes her nose closer to the glass so she can look up into the black-quilted sky.
“Ella, honey. The nurse says you can come through now. Anytime.”
“Mamma, why do we hide from the rain?”
“...Because you don’t want to catch a cold, sweetheart.”
“They’ve proven now that you don’t actually catch colds from the cold, you know.” She pushes her fingers against the glass, feels like the damp should soak through. “I think, we all secretly think it’s going to melt us. Down to jittery skin and bones. Like witches.”
A hand rests on her shoulder. She can smell orchids. Like she has her whole life. Except for one summer when they discontinued her mother’s perfume for a while and it seemed like the world had had a colour shaken out. They put it back eventually.
“Honey. I think it’s best if you come.”
Ella closes her eyes. She can still hear the rain, even muffled by glass and acres of stone. Hear individual drops pat-patting against the window above her fingertips.
She lets herself be led, through door after door and more faceless corridors. Almost made to make sure no one ever knows where they are. Eventually she reaches a new room she hasn’t been in yet. The windows here are bigger and she can see that the storm covers the whole city.
Her mother, the orchid-queen, hands her something and she doesn’t want to look down, she really doesn’t. But there it is. Here it is.
And it, is a she.
It is alive.
She is alive. Squirming and small. Breathing.
Ella’s mother’s words are faint, shaking with the same kind of tremors that have been rocking Ella’s body for hours. “The operation was a success, sweetheart, your little baby is going to be fine.”
Fine. Alive. Healthy.
And she is Ella’s.
--
A/N: Randomly, (not that anyone cares) Ella was named after my brother's girlfriend's cat, who is totally gorgeous. (both the girlfriend and the cat.) Also, gotta say, this challenge is totally fun and others should try it if they feel the urge.
(Previous Short-Story Challenge Entries: #01: Spn - Beds.)
Title: Ella In The Rain
Short-Story Challenge Entry: #02
Author: Page Russet (
page_r)Rating: G
Summary: On both sides of the window it's raining.
Word Count: 444 (symmetry ftw!)
Warnings: unbeta'd. written at midnight.
Disclaimer: I CLAIM! IT IS MINE! ALL MINE! *clutches at copyright*
--
Ella could never figure out if that iron-smell of rain was because of how rain smells or just how cement smells when it’s wet.
It’s been too long since she’s been out in the country for her to remember for sure.
When she was small her parents would go out to a friend’s farm. Or orchard. Whatever you call a place that grows grapes and olives.
On those days, she felt like her whole world opened out like a pop-up book. Achieving new dimensions. The sky stretched out so much further, right up to the mountains, and the air was so clean you could just take never-ending gulpfulls of it. But that was a long time ago. And now she can’t remember what it smelt like in the rain.
The door opens behind her but she doesn’t turn, just pushes her nose closer to the glass so she can look up into the black-quilted sky.
“Ella, honey. The nurse says you can come through now. Anytime.”
“Mamma, why do we hide from the rain?”
“...Because you don’t want to catch a cold, sweetheart.”
“They’ve proven now that you don’t actually catch colds from the cold, you know.” She pushes her fingers against the glass, feels like the damp should soak through. “I think, we all secretly think it’s going to melt us. Down to jittery skin and bones. Like witches.”
A hand rests on her shoulder. She can smell orchids. Like she has her whole life. Except for one summer when they discontinued her mother’s perfume for a while and it seemed like the world had had a colour shaken out. They put it back eventually.
“Honey. I think it’s best if you come.”
Ella closes her eyes. She can still hear the rain, even muffled by glass and acres of stone. Hear individual drops pat-patting against the window above her fingertips.
She lets herself be led, through door after door and more faceless corridors. Almost made to make sure no one ever knows where they are. Eventually she reaches a new room she hasn’t been in yet. The windows here are bigger and she can see that the storm covers the whole city.
Her mother, the orchid-queen, hands her something and she doesn’t want to look down, she really doesn’t. But there it is. Here it is.
And it, is a she.
It is alive.
She is alive. Squirming and small. Breathing.
Ella’s mother’s words are faint, shaking with the same kind of tremors that have been rocking Ella’s body for hours. “The operation was a success, sweetheart, your little baby is going to be fine.”
Fine. Alive. Healthy.
And she is Ella’s.
--
A/N: Randomly, (not that anyone cares) Ella was named after my brother's girlfriend's cat, who is totally gorgeous. (both the girlfriend and the cat.) Also, gotta say, this challenge is totally fun and others should try it if they feel the urge.