thisfatefulhour: (Have you ridden the wind before?)
[personal profile] thisfatefulhour
November 11, 1982

He doesn't really process the date until he sees a gray-haired man on a street corner wearing a poppy.

It's Saturday in November, and Charles is wandering around the city wrapped in a scarf, with his hands stuffed in his pockets. He likes doing this, when he doesn't have too much homework to deal with -- it's his way of seeing New York as less "The City" and more a pleasant place to be in. It's his way of adapting.

The sight of the paper poppy brings back a rush of memories, though, sudden and unexpected. He remembers quoting poetry, and speaking half-remembered Welsh, and a dark-haired girl . . . He remembers that it's been a year.

It occurs to him he hasn't been back to Milliways since October. His dorm room hasn't once opened there; he's been too busy to get down to Central Park to try tessering.

But since he's already out and about -- no harm in trying, right?

The chill November wind has picked up by the time he gets to the park, and the light is starting to fade. That's all to the good. It means there aren't as many people around to avoid. He climbs up onto a hill screened by trees, breath clouding in the air; at the top, he looks around at where he is, and he thinks of where he wants to go--

--and with a deep breath and a gust of wind, he steps into the darkness and through--


thisfatefulhour: (Default)
Charles Wallace Murry

September 2009

  12 345

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 22nd, 2017 06:25 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios