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fineosaur · 4 years ago

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44 Throbb?

throbb | x | — 44. “You’ve always felt like home.”

from these drabble prompts

Much like the fire within the hearth that beckoned him with its flickering warmth, he felt disquiet within himself.

The air felt thick, far more humid than that of the North’s. He could easily make out the Red Fork by where he stood, pulling at the laces of his tunic. It unsettled him, the rushing water, so fresh, unlike the brine of his home.

Home. it didn’t sound at all like it should, or perhaps he should have felt it. That too he couldn’t imagine. Half his life he had stayed a ward of Winterfell, though hostage would be the more accurate term for it.

If he thought hard enough, he could imagine the jagged shores along the Sunset Sea, he could possible conjure up the way the salt spray would feel on his cheeks. Last he had felt it, he was a boy of ten, Theon Greyjoy, Prince of the Iron Isles. He was still heir to the Seastone Chair, but uncertainty twisted its knife in him at the thought of it.

He had grown accustomed to his life in Winterfell, despite the ephemeral overtone, he had gotten used to it. Once he had believed, hoped that Ned Stark would marry him to Sansa, but now she herself was but a hostage. Theon might have considered himself fickle, he knew himself to be, his interest jumping ship whenever he found something new to daydream about. Recently he had found his daydreams taking on a much different form, one much less temporary and wholly immersive.

Theon strode to the bed he had been given, taking a seat with a wineskin in hand. He had found that war made him weary, distanced him from everything he thought he had known. He hung on the balance between what he was and what he would be, what he could be. He deigned to admit to what he wanted to be. What he knew, though, was that he needed to, travel to Seagard with Jason fucking Mallister. At least Patrek wasn’t bad company.

His gut turned with apprehension. Theon chose to mask it with anticipation, he was a kraken who had been forced to spend too long away from the sea, frozen in the North, returning home would be good, he thought.

There was a knock at the door once Theon dropped his boots by the bed. There was a muffled voice as he walked, lifting the latch and opening the door to Robb crouching with his direwolf at his feet.

Theon leaned against the wooden door frame with crossed arms, smiling down at the young auburn-haired man, whose curled locks fell messily to his startling blue eyes.

He pushed his hair out of his face and straightened himself to his full height, “Were you busy?” Robb asked with a small smile growing on his face too. He looked tired, he rubbed his neck and glanced to the stone floors before meeting Theon’s eyes again.

“Not as busy as a king, I suppose,” Theon joked, stepping aside and letting Robb walk into his room, watching Grey Wind lay just outside the door.

Robb took a look around the small room, silently letting his eyes wander as Theon gazed at him. He wasn’t sure if Robb could tell how fixed his stare was, that his heartbeat quickened just a bit more around him than it did with all those other women, with anyone else.

“I’m sending you to Pyke.”

Theon laughed, “I know,” he answered, watching Robb turn back to him with a wide stare. Even with all those years of growing up together, Theon would have never thought it would come to this. That they would be at war, that Robb would be king and that he himself would be fighting a war within himself.

“I’m sending you home, Theon,” Robb reiterated. Home. There it was again. It hit him harder than earlier.

Theon swallowed heavily, still tasting the sweet, tart wine on his tongue. He approached Robb with steady footing, pushing his long hair behind his ears before meeting Robb’s eyes. “As an envoy to my father, I know that.”

Robb stood rooted by the shuttered window, his eyes darted away from Theon’s as soon as he got closer, “My mother thinks Balon cannot be trusted,” Robb said, laughter coated his words as if it were a ridiculous concept.

“I wouldn’t know,” Theon responded tersely, “not really.”

“It’s up to you then. When you get back home that is.”

It rang in his head each time, “Will you stop saying that,” his tone was blunt, but as a sparring sword, it still packed a hit.

“What?”

“Home—“ Theon waved his hand, bothered by his own sentiment, he had tried to play his farce, but something about Robb weighed on all his strings. He felt like one of those wooden dolls that Sansa and the steward’s daughter loved so much. “You keep saying it as if I even remember what it was like.”

Of course, he remembered. He remembered the smell of seaweed, the chalky feeling that matted his long black hair, the way his uncle had been to him. Theon remembered Asha’s skinny legs but not the sound of her voice. He missed his mother on occasion, more often than he ever wanted to admit. And even at times, he would think of his brothers. But that’s not what he meant. He knew exactly what home felt like, from the way it warmed him in manners the fire of the hearth could not and down to the way it looked back at him with glimmering Tully eyes.

“I’m sorry, I guess even I haven’t fully accepted it yet,” Robb looked to his feet, slowly walking towards the small bed and taking a seat. “I don’t think I quite remember a time when you weren’t around.”

Theon had no way of answering Robb, not when he spoke so solemnly. His feet, though not yet accustomed to the cold, stone floors, padded closer towards him, lining the curve of his jaw with his eyes, choosing to offer Robb a proper grin instead.

He had been playing the same words in his head for the last years, ever since Robb had grown to four and ten and he began noticing the height he had grown to, or the way his shoulders appeared a lot broader than before. Even the fair hair that began growing out against his jaw had caught Theon’s eye. Once again, it was unsettling.

“Have I made an impression on you, Stark?” Theon jeered, throwing himself on the bed as well. His body suddenly felt warmer than it had in a while, especially with the approaching winter.

“You wish,” Robb countered, shoving Theon by the shoulder in mockery.

Theon easily caught his hand, blaming the wine for the way he let himself stare back at Robb with his wrist between his fingers. He was warm, too inviting, especially with his pink lips and wide eyes.

“What do you know of my wishes?”

Robb’s brows furrowed, staring at Theon with a gaze of curiosity and confusion. “Is this to do with you going home?” Robb questioned, eyes dropping to where Theon took both their hands in his lap.

Theon turned Robb’s palm, eyes tracing the lines that marked his calloused hand. They were far too young for this, or mayhap the kingdoms were too old for them.

“You’ve always felt like home to me,” Theon quietly said, eyes trained on Robb’s palm, chest warm and light from the wine and belly weightless from the young man at his side.

“I have?”

Theon dared to look up at Robb, his surprised expression lit his eyes up, even more, making Theon’s heart pound a little harder. It had never been this way, not with anyone else. He didn’t think past those words, only that they had come to his head and he needed to say them.

“Theon?”

He leaned forward, lips colliding far too hard into Robb’s, it mattered not. Regardless, it felt right. Robb’s lips were softer than he had imagined, his lips moved slower even. It was good, despite initially being stunned, Robb relaxed into it, making Theon take his time as well.

Robb held onto Theon’s hand which locked on the back of Robb’s neck. They held one another steady as Theon shifted Robb until his back was pressed into the hard mattress. He pulled away briefly, staring down at his best friend, whom he had called his brother for half his life, the man he inevitably loved.

He stared down at Robb, his tousled russet curls, puckered, pink lips, and the flush that tinted his skin, still doing nothing to hide the freckles that dusted his face.

“I think I might love you,” Robb told him hesitantly, reaching out to tuck Theon’s long hair behind his ear, thumbing his earring before letting his fingertips line Theon’s stubbled jaw.

The words sent a flurry of emotion through him, tugging at his heart as he was haunted by thoughts of his departure.

“I think so too,” Theon nodded, smiling down at him before slowly leaning down to take ahold of Robb’s lips once more, only to be interrupted.

“You think you love me too?”

“No, I think you love me.”

Robb began laughing underneath him, pulling Theon down to his lips, both their laughs made their teeth clash before he shifted and leaned his forehead against Robb’s, his hair hung around them.

“I do, I love you,” Theon breathed, closing his eyes as they laid there, cocooned in each other’s thoughts. The war was leagues away, for now, it was only them. They were more than just a kraken and a direwolf, they were only boys, Robb and Theon, and all that mattered were their smiles against one another.

#this accidentally became REALLY long im sorry #1.6k ... hardly a drabble anymore #throbb #robb x theon #robb stark #theon greyjoy #canon compliant #rated t #asoiaf fanfiction #my writing #northernfieldsforever #asks #thank you for the prompt #this was so much fun to write #i dont write canon often so this was fun

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skruttet · 5 years ago

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Extract from Notes from an Island

As a new item in the literary presentations series, I'm publishing a short translated extract from Notes from an Island (Anteckningar från en ö, Schildts, Helsinki, 1996), one of the last books by the Finland-Swedish author Tove Jansson (1914-2001) - most famous for her "Moomin" books for children, but also a distinguished writer of adult fiction. For over twenty years the small island of Klovharun, at the outermost tip of the Pellinge archipelago, about 80 kilometres east of Helsinki, the Finnish capital, and some 30 kilometres south of the town of Porvoo, was the summer home of the writer Tove Jansson and the artist Tuulikki Pietilä. This book is an account, by both women, of those years, in which they built a cottage on the island and then lived and worked there for considerable periods of time, away from “civilization”. The book is written in the style of a memoir with diary entries, and is illustrated with tinted drawings and watercolours by Tuulikki Pietilä. The early chapters describe the days during the early 1960s when the couple were exploring the Pellinge maritime region and found the small island where they decided to build their home. We are introduced to Brunström, the taciturn and opinionated local fisherman and workman who helps the two women in their search and gives them advice on building permission and other matters. With his colleague Sjöblom, Brunström is portrayed with humour as a character born from the surroundings and traditions of Finland’s small Swedish-speaking community – in some ways he could almost be a character from one of Tove Jansson’s Moomin books, which also mirror aspects of Finland-Swedish life, with its sense of a culture within a culture, the expression of a people without a homeland as such, but with a strong sense of ethnic and cultural identity, and a close affinity with nature. Some of the diary entries in the earlier part of the book are presented as being the work of Brunström himself. Tove Jansson describes the little island in detail, reflecting the way in which it represents all the aspects of Finnish nature in microcosm: the miniature forest, with paths, the exposed rock face, the central lake or lagoon, the seagulls and other birds, which the author portrays as being unhappy about the invasion of their living space by two human individuals. The construction of the house, which involves much blasting and dynamiting of rock, is recounted in detail, with copies of lists and surveyors’ notes, and Tove describes how she and Tuulikki conceived the plan for the building: it was to have windows facing all the points of the compass: “one for the great storms, one for the reflection of the moon in the lake, one for the hill with its moss and polyps, and one facing north ‘so we can see what may come sailing along and so have time to get used to it.’” One chapter describes the experience of watching the great break-up of the sea ice in springtime, and one receives a sense of the tiny world of the island as part of a huge natural universe of movement. The timelessness of the place is evident – and yet always the two women impress their creative skills on their environment, turning a remote and deserted rock-face into a workshop of artistic endeavour, without ever spoiling the harmony and equilibrium of the landscape and its creatures. We follow their day-to-day life, with its constant struggle with the elements, as when the sea carries away their entire supply of firewood, its trips to nearby communities for the essentials of life, its lists of supplies and tools, its outboard motors and above all the boat Victoria, which suffers shipwreck one stormy night, at the book’s climax. In addition to being a miniature tour de force of autobiographical “desert island” writing, Notes from an Island is also an important document that gives an insight into some of the existential sources of Tove Jansson’s literary talent. In particular, we begin to understand from within how the world of the Moomins developed, as we follow the author’s deep and intuitive relation to the place and the living creatures that inhabit and frequent it – the gull Pellura, the seabirds, the local people, the postman, the cat, and so on. The illustrations by Tuulikki Pietilä complete the evocation of this world, that is at once very real and concrete and yet also suffused with a strange, muted, almost fairytale-like radiance. __________________________________________ from NOTES FROM AN ISLAND 1. I love stone: the cliff that falls straight into the sea, the rocky hill too steep to climb, the pebble in my pocket, prising stones from the ground and heaving them up and rolling the biggest ones straight down the hill into the sea! Down they rumble, leaving behind an acrid smell of sulphur. Searching for stones to build with, or simply stones that are beautiful, in order to make mosaics, bastions, terraces, pillars, smoke ovens, or strange, unusable contraptions made just for the sake of it; building jetties that the sea will take away next autumn; building more wisely next time, though the sea will take it all away again. My father was a sculptor, but Tooti’s was a carpenter, and that’s why she loves working in wood, whether it’s shifting magnificent, heavy planks about or playing with feather-light balsa. In the forest we searched for juniper wood. On the shore we sometimes found strange, hardy species of trees with unfamiliar names. Tooti used them to make small objects that need time and great patience – why not make the smallest salt-spoon that has ever been made? ‘But,’ says Tooti, ‘it’s quite different when you build on a large scale, you have to be resolute and absolutely sure of your ability to measure and calculate and make it all work out to the last centimetre. Or millimetre. ‘Sometimes building is done in order to hold and make steady, and other times it’s in order to decorate: sometimes it’s both.’ Incidentally, Tooti’s engravings are done in pear-wood or beech, her woodcuts mostly in birch. She would often discuss materials with Albert Gustafsson in his boatshed on Pellinge; they also chatted about boats. He gave her suitable pieces of teak and mahogany to play around with, and Tooti took them all home with her and thought up ideas that were totally new. It was Albert who made the boat, in 1962, from mahogany, four metres long and clinker-built. It was the most beautiful boat that had ever been seen on that whole stretch of the coast. She was strong and supple, and positively danced on a heavy sea, her name was Victoria, as both Tooti’s father and mine were called Victor. Gradually, as the summers went by, Victoria became more and more Tooti’s as she was the one who loved the boat most and looked after it with the utmost care. There are many names for what we call an island: holm, skerry, haru, islet, atoll. The map of Pellinge shows an arc of uninhabited skerries west of Glosholm; they may be connected with a ridge of random formations on the sea bed. Kummelskär is the largest and most beautiful pearl in the necklace. I was very small when I decided to be the lighthouse keeper on Kummelskär. While it is true that there’s only one lighthouse there, I planned to build a much larger one, an enormous lighthouse that would be able to survey and supervise the whole of the eastern Gulf of Finland – when I was grown-up and rich, of course. Gradually, my dream of the unattainable changed, and turned into a game with the possible; eventually it was just a cussed obstinacy that refused to give up, until the Fishermen’s Guild made no bones about the matter and said quite simply that it would disturb the salmon, and that was that. But about two and a half nautical miles from Kummelskär, in towards the coast, there were small islands that no one really knew anything about, and there it was possible to rent land. Remarkable that such a major and long drawn out disappointment could so quickly be forgotten for a new infatuation, but so it was – almost as soon as we moved in, we felt that we’d discovered paradise. We prettified and ruined with the same high spirits; we had everything, if only in miniature: a little forest with a forest path and moss, a little sandy shore with safety for the boat, even a little marsh with some tufts of cotton grass – we were proud of the island! And we wanted to be admired, to show off, we lured people there and they came, and came back, summer after summer, more and more of them. Sometimes they would bring a friend with them, or sometimes the loss of a friend, and they would talk and talk about their yearning for the simple, the primitive; and above all, their yearning for solitude. Gradually the island became filled with people. Tooti and I began to think about moving further out to sea. We made a half-hearted attempt with Kummelskär, but they said we would disturb the cod. After Kummelskär come Musblötan, Käringskrevan and Bisaball, small inaccessible skerries where only fishermen and hunters can think of landing, and last in the series Klovharun, i.e. a haru (rocky island) that has split (cloven) in two. That was where we wanted to live. The island has an area of about six or seven thousand square metres, is shaped like an atoll with a lagoon in the middle, and is surrounded by rocks; at low tide the lagoon becomes a lake. It is said that at one time seals used the lagoon as a playground; that was before they thought the better of it and moved further out to sea. On the map, these smaller, almost outcast islands are marked as state property, but that is not true at all. The fact is that according to certain records, at some time in the eighteenth century, there was once a stormy committee meeting connected with the Land Reform; perhaps the conflict was put on hold because the secretary was prevented from attending the meeting by the icy conditions on the roads, but whatever the truth of the matter the islands were hastily registered as part of the community of Pellinge; ‘an indeterminate population, with no precise details.’ As time passed, the community had grown considerably, and now it seemed it was no longer possible for us to apply for permission to lease land on Haru. However, like so many other islands with a will of their own, Pellinge had its own prophet whom one could ask for advice on difficult matters concerning the internal affairs of the group of islands. He advised us not to raise our hopes too high and above all not to depend on legal documents that sooner or later might only cause problems – no lease, therefore, but perhaps a small donation to the Fishermen’s Guild. Take it as it comes, he said, put up a list in Söderby for people to enter ‘yes’ or ‘no’ – if I put ‘yes’ everyone else will probably do likewise. We put up the ‘yes or no’ list on the veranda door of the village shop and everyone put ‘yes’. We sent the list to Porvoo Council and applied for building permission. While we waited, we lived on Klovharun in a tent. It rained all the time, Tooti was reading part six of The Vicomte de Bragelonne, by Alexandre Dumas. ‘There’s nothing like the classics,’ she said. ‘Read Les Misérables, unabridged, and then you’ll understand the meaning of loyalty.’ I know that Tooti is loyal to what she trusts, even afterwards. We had pitched our tent too close to the Great Stone, which is so great that it has become a landmark, at least for people who are finding their way more or less from hearsay. The Stone was estimated to weigh approximately fifty tons. It lies in an enormous frog pond in the only place where one could think of building beyond the reach of the sea. It rained all week, and the frog pond overflowed and trickled past down the hill past our tent and stank horribly. We dreamt of what the cottage would look like. It would have four windows, one in each wall. In the south east we made room for the great storms that rage in across the island, in the east the moon would be able to reflect itself in the lagoon, and in the west there would be a rocky wall with moss and polyps. To the north one had to be able to keep a lookout for anything that might come along, and have time to get used to it. We thought that if we built a cottage it ought to be quite high up the hill, but not right at the top, as that was the place for the beacon – perhaps just below the brow of the hill, so that the chimney would be visible from the sea. Against the light, in other words, and to those boats that stray past for no reason. Late one night we heard an engine being turned off down on the shore, and someone with a flashlight came slowly up the hill. He introduced himself. Brunström from Kråkö. Brunström was out salmon fishing and had been planning to sleep the night in his boat when he saw lights on the island. We made tea on the primus stove. Brunström is quite small. He has a taut, weather-bitten face and blue eyes, his movements are swift but measured, and he never uses adjectives in his everyday talk. His boat has no name. We trusted him, immediately. Brunström had heard about the ‘yes or no’ list. ‘It will never get through, he said, not even in Porvoo where they take life rather easy, take things as they come, as it were. You’ll never get permission to build. The only thing you can do is start building immediately. It’ll take the authorities ages to agree about what they want, and that’s where you have to watch out. The law says that nothing can be demolished if the builder’s got the frame up to the roof-tree. Believe me, said Brunström, I know about these things. I’ve built cabins in next to no time here and there, just in order to annoy people in the neighbourhood – folk from Pernå and Pellinge, for example.’ Brunström went on to explain that he didn’t need very much time, though one never knows with the autumn weather. He’d take Sjöblom with him and perhaps Charlie and Helmer, and before anything else, the Great Stone must be blasted with dynamite. Brunström says that blasting and basements don’t count as proper building, the house has to have a frame and the frame won’t last the winter without a roof. So there is not much time. ‘Before the snow,’ he says. translated by David McDuff

#notes from an island #tove jansson #tuulikki pietilä

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cecilspeaks · 6 years ago

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146 - The Birthday of Lee Marvin (II)

Every evening’s disappointment is the next morning’s hope. I’m Lee Marvin. Welcome to my birthday.

[somber piano version of the theme song]

There is a dark planet of awesome size, lit by no sun. An invisible titan, all thick black forest and jagged mountains and deep, turbulent oceans. It is so far away, so desolate, so impossibly, terrifyingly dark. One day, we will go there.

Imagine the feeling of the ground beneath your feet on that planet. The soft cold grit of sand that once was rock, that once was mountains. You won’t be able to see the sand. You won’t be able to see anything except the faint glimmer of the stars. There’s always light somewhere, just not here.

What does it smell like on the planet, I wonder. The salt tang of invisible oceans. The bitter sap of ancient forest. I don’t think it smells of rot. I don’t think it smells of fire or a food. I think it smells empty like a home that you lived in for many years but have cleaned out and painted, and are standing in it for the last time and it is once again a stranger to you. I think it smells like that.

I’m Lee Marvin, actor of some note. It is my 30th birthday today. Every day is my 30th birthday and yet I do not age. This morning, on my birthday, I had a vision. I was walking and the ground became wet. Then the water rose up around my ankles, but I kept walking. Around me were the trunks of mighty trees, hundreds of feet around. The water felt cool, but the air was warm, so it was nice to walk through. And still the water rose, and I was waist deep now. I didn’t know where it was I was going toward or away from. There was a fierce bicker of birds somewhere far above. The water (roiled) [0:04:20], but I was not afraid, I just walked, waist deep in that water. Perhaps I walked forever.

My morning routine is like so. I wake up at 5 AM. I know this because my digital clock tells me in stark red against black. I’ve had the same clock for decades. All of the labels have worn off the buttons, I wouldn’t know how to set an alarm, but I don’t need to. Whenever I wake up, it’s 5 AM. Maybe my waking causes time to happen.

I have the same breakfast every morning. I don’t mean I have the same kind of breakfast, I mean it’s the same food. I know because the apple has a bruise shaped like a witch’s hat near the stem. It’s the same bruise, the same size the same shape every morning. When I pour the cereal, no matter for how long or short, it’s the exact same amount of Corn Flakes. I’ve counted them again and again. Even if I pour no cereal at all, if I refuse to touch the box, there is still the same number of Corn Flakes in the bowl. It’s the same breakfast, and I eat it again and again, to celebrate the morning of my 30th birthday.

We were not meant to last forever. There is no peace in eternity. What shapes all of this is the boundaries. The birth, the death, even the pain in the knees, the forgotten wallet. You are bounded and so within, you are bound-less-. Without boundaries, I have no shape, I have no pain in my knees, and so I forget I have them. I forget my body. That’s all. I just wanna remember my body.

There is a dark planet of awesome size, lit by no sun. Its orbit is wild, it serpentines through space. Even with the most powerful telescopes we would not be able to find it. But at some point, we will all see it, clear and plain as our own faces, in the blue of the sky. We will look up on a day where we had a dentist appointment, where we had to pick up the kids by 4, where the basketball game was on down at the bar, and there will be a planet of awesome size, lit by no sun. An invisible titan, all thick black forest and jagged mountains and deep, turbulent oceans.

The planet will be so close that you will be able to see details on its midnight surface. Are those cities that you see upon it? Vast and cavernous cities? Empty windows and empty rooms. No one built those cities, but they are there.

I’m Lee Marvin. I’ve always been Lee Marvin. It has always been my 30th birthday.

This afternoon, on my birthday, I had a vision. I was at a conference table in a conference room, in a building full of rooms exactly like that one. A place of business where money is not made but is procured from those who deserve it less. I wondered, if I searched those offices for all of my birthdays after, would I ever find an exist? But I did not search. I sat at the conference table. Across from me was an unsmiling man. His hands were folded in front of him on the table. I did not greet him, because I felt that we had already exchanged small talk and now it was time to get to the meat of it. But I didn’t know what the meat was. I didn’t know what he wanted from me. Neither of us said anything from either side of our conference table. The tinted window looked out over a parking lot, full of identical silver sedans.

My afternoon routine is like so. I put on my hat and I go into town. I do my shopping and say hello to the people I know and the people I don’t. There’s still somehow people I don’t know even after all this time. However much time it has been. They often wish me a happy birthday and I say thank you. But what I mean is, please don’t. Please, no more.

Sometimes there’s a party and I poke at the cake with the side of my fork. I go home with my groceries and I put them in the fridge, throwing out the identical groceries I’d bought the day before. Then I have an afternoon coffee out in the back yard, staring at my lawn which remains green and lush, even though the heat is intense this time of year, even though I have never in my life watered it.

Grass is like me. I spit a little coffee on the grass. Imagine having no shape, no form. Imagine a clumsy endlessness. Imagine me. Picture me.

In an emergency, it is recommended that you look for the nearest exit. That’s all I’m doing here, looking for the nearest exit.

There is a dark planet lit by no sun. An invisible titan, all thick black forest and jagged mountains and deep, turbulent oceans. I feel that I walked there once long ago. I know the bitter crunch of its lifeless soil. I know the ice fizz of the waves along its shores. I know the smooth glass of its mountainsides. The dark there is complete.

I wish I could take you by the hand, and together you and I could step onto its surface. We could know it the way one knows a home. We could find warmth in its absolute chill. We could make light in its total darkness. But that won’t happen. Because when we visit that planet, we each must visit it alone. But we can take comfort in those who have gone before, and those who will come after. There is a dark planet lit by no sun, and one day we will go there.

This evening on my birthday, I had a vision. I was climbing a chimney of rock. The rock sat tight around my shoulders. There was hardly room for my body. By wedging myself outward, I was able to make myself stable and then wiggle myself just a little bit higher and a little bit higher after that. I knew that my climb would last for the rest of my life, and that the rest of my life would last forever. And still I wiggled myself an inch at a time. Far above me was a dot of light. Pale orange of sunrise or sunset, it never changed. The sun was always setting or else it was always rising, and anyway I was far beneath, wiggling my way up a chimney of rock. Far below, I could see cave water, absolutely clear and impossible deep and brutally cold. If I wanted I could simply relax my body and fall through the rock into that cold and clean water. All I would need to do is relax for one second. But I didn’t. I kept climbing toward the sunrise or else the sunset.

My evening routine is like so. I listen to the radio to hear the news and nod thoughtfully at what the world is up to when I’m not involved. I take off my socks. I like how my feet feel against the carpet in my living room. Sometimes I hear a voice from the living room wall. The voice sounds like me. “There must be more than this,” the me in the wall says to the me in the chair. “I wish it were so,” I say to the me in the wall. “Could you, could you help me out here, I think I’m stuck?” says the me in the wall. And I shake my head sadly. If I could have helped myself, I would have already.

I don’t like to sleep, so I binge an old 90’s sitcom like “Five in the Pit” or “The Thin Man Commences”. I don’t fall asleep, I know I don’t. I count every hour until the next day. And yet I find myself waking again in my bed and it’s my 30th birthday. As it is always my 30th birthday.

If I’m not given a boundary, I will have to create a boundary for myself. I will have to be the inventor of my own end. Listen against a window. Do you hear the soft murmur of the weather outside?

[“Sicilian Crest” by The Mountain Goats, http://www.mountain-goats.com http://ionlylistentothemountaingoats.com]

I have lived a very long time. Perhaps longer than anyone. Hmh. And yet there is still so much I haven’t done. I’ve never been to Poland or Bolivia, or New Zealand or Svitz. I’ve never been to North Carolina or North Dakota or North Florida or Germany. I’ve never seen a giraffe in person. Or a boar. Or a praying mantis or an eagle. I’ve never been to space, I’ve never been in a come and I’ve never tasted kale or kimchi or lamb or (-) [0:20:37].

There are big things I’ve never done. I’ve never written a book or recorded an album. I’ve never built a house. Choosing the location and materials, laying down the foundation and constructing the framework upon it. Putting in insulation, installing drywall, getting permits from the city. I’ve never led an army over a mountain pass, saying to them: “Today we go down in history!” I’ve never gone down in history. I mean, most of us haven’t and most of us won’t, but me too I guess. I’ve never been to the dark part of the ocean floor where the sun can’t reach through the sheer liquid mass, and the strange creatures live whose beauty does not rely on our sense of beauty, because their existence does not rely on our sense of existence. Or the volcanic vents pump heat into the blue-black abyss. I’ve never been married, although I have been divorced. I’ve never sky dived or even been on a plane. I don’t know what flying feels like. I imagine it feels a little like dreaming and a lot like waiting.

There are small things that I’ve never done. I’ve never had a picnic. I’ve never made whole wheat pasta. I’ve never parallel parked or spent a few hours picking up litter from the side of the road. I’ve never pulled a weed. And I’ve never bought a hat. I’ve always owned this hat. I don’t remember where I got it. I’ve never driven any car but a Dodge Durango. I’ve never seen a single movie except “Forgetting Sarah Marshall”. No that new remake but the original 1960’s classic starring Frank Sinatra as every character. I can’t imagine any other movie being better, so I’ve never bothered.

Exotic things I’ve never done. I’ve never time traveled, although I do get the brochures in the mail each week like everyone else. I’ve never danced in the ballet. Huh, although I’ve daydreamed of it many times. I’ve never printed counterfeit money, nor ordered a hit on anyone, nor otherwise committed a crime. I’ve never been bitten by a vampire or by a werewolf or by a child.

Simple things I’ve never done. I’ve never mailed a letter. I’ve never owned a dishwasher. I don’t know what a sauna feels like. I’ve never been in a hot tub. I’ve never kept a flower in a vase, long after it was time to throw it away until it is the brown memory of a flower that once was. I’ve never done Pilates or yoga or Crossfit. I’ve never taken a run, although I’ve always owned running shoes.

My life, like all lives, is more of a list of “I never”s than “I have”s. Because the world is bigger than we can reach. Not even if we spend our entire lives reaching. We clear a little circle around ourselves. We sit in that circle, and that is our life. But it’s OK. I don’t have to do everything. I will leave an endless list of the “not done”s and the “meant to”s and the “should have”s, and that’s fine. After all, past performance is not a predictor of future results. After all, death is only the end if you think the story is about you. After all, after everything, after it’s over, what then?

Good night, Night Vale, Good night.

Today’s proverb: A group of Chihuahuas is called a committee. A group of Labradors is called a jumble. A group of Golden Retrievers is called a butter dish.

#welcome to night vale #welcome to night vale transcripts #episode 146 #the birthday of lee marvin

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unholyhelbiglinked · 6 years ago

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Camp Beaverbrook | 007

CHECK OUT THE STORY FROM THE START HERE

Hey Mom!

It’s been what? A week since I’ve last written. I’m not really sure if they’re sending these letters on Fridays or if they actually spend that much money on postage. Part of me thinks that they don’t send them at all and they’re just sitting in those big plastic cases that Gail always keeps under lock and key. It’s been fun, though, but I’m ready to be a counselor now. I think this is the perfect send off.

Emily

She mindlessly pushed the three lone carrots against the broth backdrop. They looked sad, all of their coating having tinted the liquid that they swam in. They looked like little life rafts that could carry a whole person if a person was an ant.

She had her lip between her teeth, her stare trained in the general direction of the counselors. On one counselor that had the sunlight hitting her just right as it rose against the mess hall. Emily had a full conversation with her yesterday, one where she only choked on her words once or twice. She knew Aubrey, had seen her every single day at camp for the past three and a half years but still- each time was met with her heart in her throat and an instant moisture to her palms.

The blonde did a bit of a double take, first catching a gray gaze before shooting back down to her own food and up again. She offered up a kind smile and a half-hearted wave. Emily fumbled with herself, cheeks inflamed as she lifted her chin in a nod and looked back toward the grooves of the table that had gotten so interesting. An onion clung to the back of her spoon.

“You are helpless.” Hayley tore a generous piece from a roll, dipping it into the broth. “Just jump her bones already.”

“What?” Emily hissed, voice low “I don’t want to- I mean, she’s flawless but that doesn’t mean I need to have sex with her. Honestly just being in her presence-“She trailed off, gulping in a heap of air “Where’s Jane?”

“Nice change of subject Michel Emerson.”

Emily let out a deep grumble at the reference. Hayley was playing to her weakness; a shitty movie about vampires that hung from the bottom of train tracks. Michel Emerson had risked everything for a pretty girl with an alluring personality, even if it did turn him into a creature of the night. “Seriously, asshole, she hasn’t shown for lunch, and now dinner?”

“So? Jane never shows. She probably passed out after her time slot on the lake. Yeah?” Hayley rolled her eyes.

She had spent more than enough time talking Emily down. She had kept the clumsy girl from nearly drowning in the lake when Aubrey told her to simply cool off. It was getting late, there was sleep eating away at the edge of her mind and it showed in her demeanor. Not particularly sunny, but often times confused with discontent.

“Sure.” Emily agreed, not having anything else to do. She had lost all appetite for any type of dinner. There was a sneaking pinprick at the back of her mind. Something that she had gotten before. Her mother used to say the uneasiness was a clear sign that she needed to listen to her gut. But that was only before she put her on a plane for a class trip to New York with enough money to buy mace as soon as they touched down.

Now it was rocking her whole entire sense of being.

Emily let her spoon fall into the soup that was mainly untouched. It created a loud noise and beef broth soaked against her cheek. Hayley flinched, lifting her eyebrows. “You’re going to offend the chef.”

Coffee eyes shot towards the kitchen, Jesse was bringing the knife down on what looked like more onions. It certainly smelled that way. He had bulky headphones over his ears and a towel against his shoulder, head bobbing along. Somehow, she knew he would be okay.

She rolled her eyes and swung her legs over the bench. “Wha- where are you going?”

“I am going to go check her cabin,” Emily said, throwing her napkin down against the bowl of soup before gathering it all together. She didn’t wait for Hayley to open her mouth in protest, instead, she walked towards the very window that supplied the neon light of the kitchen.

Jesse glanced up, lifting his chin slightly before she gave him a wary smile and dropped the bowl before anyone else had, careful not to spill the broth. He went back to bobbing his head, and Emily exited the mess hall trying impossibly hard not to look towards the counselors.

There was a frigid chill to the air that made her seek for any type of warmth, a jacket over her simple cotton t-shirt, something to ease the cold that presented itself the moment the sun started to lower against the pine needle trees.

She shoved her hands into her jean shorts and walked against the path that had been carved out ages ago. There were boot prints, and even bare feet tracked in the loose dirt. Her breath pressed into the air in a soft cloud, something she used to exhaust. That small prick buzzing like her table was ready at a family restaurant.

The cabin looked bigger than before, almost like each of the three steps that she took up to the screen door were miles long. Her legs ached and shook, but she still pulled it open and glanced around the space: Her bed had been made this morning and was still left untouched. Hayley’s was a mess under her own, and Jane was empty. The covers were pulled back and the setting sun highlighted it in a ghastly orange.

Emily let out the breath that she didn’t know she was holding onto. Her lungs burned, and her ears were ringing now. A pressure and anxiety that she couldn’t fiddle with tugged at her. The door creaking open as she turned to face it.

Hayley.

She leaned against the doorframe, eyebrows raised. “Not here?”

“No, afraid not.” Emily let out a deep breath. “Dinner over?”

The girl nodded and flopped down on her mattress, stretching her hands out over her head as she groaned as her back popped in just the right way. She didn’t think she took that long to walk to the cabin across the camp, but she had, dragging her feet and begging for a reason to make the ringing stop.

Emily could feel her throat tighten and she blamed the cold air, not the deepening feeling in her stomach as she shook her head and pushed past her screen door, standing staggered against the steps to her cabin. It was crowded this time, kids trying to get back to their bunks before the mountain night grew chillier.

She watched as kids that wore a mix of forest green and golden yellow walked among counselors that were far from finished with their nights. She would often see the fire rising from the rocky shore and smell the beer in the metal trash cans that next morning. The thought made her skin prickle.

Aubrey Posen stood by the edge of the path, her arms crossed over her chest as those deep green eyes peered into Beca’s. The girl was shorter than her superior, but the way she puffed out her chest and sneered made Emily think that she had more gall than the woman she was looking for. Chloe had an even hand on her shoulder as if to hold her back or pull her to their shared cabin. The archery instructor lifting perfectly sculpted eyebrows up in discontent.

Emily steeled her nerves and walked forward, cutting across the crowd as a few people mumbled while others stared directly at her. She kept her distance, but not too much, Beca Mitchell shooting her midnight stare her way as if to acknowledge her presence.

“Hey, Em” Chloe offered up warmly, trying to defuse the situation, Aubrey’s own stare had softened a great deal, though, she never let her shoulders drop. “What’s up?”

She wanted words for form, really, she did. But they seemed to stall in her throat. At the crackling sound that she let out, Aubrey straightened her shoulders and turned herself completely towards the camper, knitting her brow. “Em?”

“I don’t want to bother you, it’s just- Jane, my cabin mate, I haven’t seen her all day.”

She knew she was taking it slow, mumbling. Four sets of eyes were on her. The surrounding area had been voided of kids, all of them sneaking liquor in their own cabins. Smoking loose cigarettes that they had hidden in their t-shirts before spraying a thick layer of lavender spray.

“She usually misses breakfast, but never lunch, or dinner. I’m uh, I’m worried about her.”

“Jane Eide?” Stacie asked, shoving her hands into the pockets of her oversized sweatshirt. “I’ve been working with her. She didn’t show today, though, figured she had fallen asleep.”

“I pulled her from the water the other night,” Beca admitted, “Late. She and two others were out on the lake after dark.”

Aubrey pulled in an easy breath, one that was far too calm for a situation like this, there was an unknown type of fear that was behind her darkened eyes. One that she wouldn’t really admit to, but Emily could see it. She could feel it.

“Right, so no one has seen her since last night?” All silence and blinking eyes. “Emily, did you hear her come in last night?”

“No, I didn’t. Neither did Hayley.”

“Okay. Stacie, you go back to the mess hall with Jesse, search the mess hall and the quad.” Aubrey had a certain stiffness to her voice. “Chloe, Beca. I need you to go to the north building and check the phone log- maybe she phoned home. Emily, follow me.”

No one made a move for a few seconds, just staring at the woman in front of them until she clapped her hands together and snapped everyone out of a haze that felt like a hazy dream. Campers didn’t just vanish. Some would get homesick, sure, but they would call their parents and get picked up begrudgingly. The feeling Emily had seemed to stem within the circle of them and extend- Stacie the first to nod and step away, doing a slight jog towards her station.

Chloe took reign and used the hand still on Beca’s shoulder to drag her towards the building that housed a small desk and the white postal bucket that everyone placed their letters in. There was a phone and a yellow log to write in, hopefully, Jane had.

“Come on,” Aubrey said, and Emily followed like an obedient dog on a short leash. They were walking in one clear direction and Aubrey was moving fast the cold not seeming to get to her, so Emily rolled her shoulders back and forgot about her own chilled bones.

Aubrey pushed past the door to her little cabin, something that looked out over the east side of the lake and was isolated to everyone else. No one dared come this close to a place like this, the place that Aubrey would sit and drink coffee before anyone disturbed her.

Emily didn’t know what to expect, but it looked almost normal: There was a little television that was an obnoxious shade of blue and had rabbit ears stretching to the sky. A nicely made bed and a small table with two chairs on either side of it. There were lights strung up over a floral bedspread. It smelled thickly of lavender, and it pulled Emily in. She struggled to stay against the threshold.

“Here,” Aubrey seemed slightly out of breath, she stretched forward and handed Emily a hard metal flashlight. She had palmed one herself, its silver shell reflecting the fairy lights. “We’re going to check around the lake.”

“Okay,” was all Emily could mumble, the woman pulled open what looked like a closet instead of a dresser. She produced a brown leather bomber jacket that had a fur collar, folded and covered in patches. It looked worn and overwhelmed her with scent as it was tossed in her direction. “I can’t-“

“It’s cold,” Aubrey said tenderly. She was wearing a sweatshirt herself, adjusting the collar as she flicked off the light and pressed herself through the doorway. Emily could feel her heat against her front.

She hurriedly slid it over her shoulders before closing the door and jogging slightly to catch up with Aubrey, she had already flicked her flashlight on. It created a circle of yellow that she swept over the grounds that they walked against, their sneakers loud compared to the silence of the night. Emily couldn’t hear crickets.

Her shoulder would bump against Aubrey’s every couple of steps, and she savored the touch, moving her own beam of light close to the water’s edge. It lapped at the stones and made them look prettier than they really were.

“I lost my hamster once.” Emily finally said timidly.

There was a slight hint of a laugh, or maybe a scoff, that pushed past Aubrey’s lips. Either way, its splayed against the darkness of the sky in a puff of white. “What?”

“Yeah, when I was six, I had a hamster and he got out of his cage somehow. We couldn’t find him for a couple of days- maybe a week. I don’t remember. I was six. But we finally found him, you know.”

“Where was he?” Aubrey asked, pulling a branch up for the both of them to duck under. It smelled like pine and dropped dead needles at the movement. The lights from the camp were getting smaller as they wandered into the large isolated parts of the perimeter. The lights from the cabins looked like they were put through a funhouse mirror as they reflected off the inky water.

“He was in the television.”

“Your hamster?”

Emily hummed in response, letting her light move against the stretch of trees. They looked scarier at night. “Yeah, in that little part where the speakers usually are. He had chewed through all of them, so at least we knew he didn’t starve. The little guy lived four more years after that… so uh, maybe we’ll find her. You know?”

“Jane is a person, not a rodent.”

“Oh, I know,” Emily’s shoe slid on the closest rock, the sound splaying oddly as Aubrey instinctively reached and clutched onto her arm, keeping her from sliding too much “Thanks. I just don’t think I’ve lost anything else before.”

Aubrey stopped then, her back to the forest as she parted her lips. Emily didn’t know if it had anything to do with her eyes adjusting or the fact that the moon had risen to its fullest point, but it was easier to see. Every part of Aubrey looked milky blue, her lips and eyes darker than the rest of her subtle features. She looked like a siren, playing oddly with the rubber button on her light. Almost like she was nervous.

“I have,” Aubrey said, so softly it was almost muted by the water lapping the shore. “My father he uh, he left when I was fifteen, maybe sixteen? I don’t think we tried too hard to find him but it um, it feels kind of like this. You know?”

“Like someone is holding your heart and just kind of… squeezes it?”

Aubrey let out a long-held onto breath “Yeah, yeah. Like that. Is it getting tighter for you too?”

Emily chewed on her bottom lip. She had to admit, the feeling seemed to melt away around Aubrey. She was a calming presence, an authority figure that she gawked at if anything. Aubrey sniffed, eyes sad in the moonlight as they flicked towards Emily’s mouth. “Yeah, I think so.” It was no more than a whisper.

“Emily…?”

“Yeah, Aubrey?”

The older woman’s hands were cold as she took a fluid step forward, her fingers curling around the back of Emily’ neck as she let the other hand hold tight against the flashlight. Emily had kissed people before, hell, she had done it often and diligently, but this was different. This was soft and Aubrey tasted like a mix of cinnamon and heat. Her nose was cold against her cheek as her touch moved against Emily’s jaw delicately.

Emily pulled away with a sharp breath, leaning her forehead against Aubrey’s. That hand around her heart had released its hold and let it flourish as the blood rushed past her ears. “Whoa.”

“That was-“Aubrey swallowed, her hand dropped her hand down “I’m sorry, I misread the situation, I’m sorry.” She apologized twice in one sentence, wanting to move away completely, but she had found Emily’s hand curled around the collar of her sweatshirt, holding her in place.

“No,” She whispered, “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to do that but-“

“It’s not the right time.” Aubrey finished her thought, swallowing roughly. “We need to keep going.”

Emily nodded and eventually dislodged her fingers from the girl's coat, even if it was the last thing she wanted to do. They returned to walking in silence, their feet crunching against dried leaves and gravel. She could swear she felt the ghost of a cold hand.

#Beca Mitchell #Chloe Beale #Emily Junk #Aubrey Posen #bechloe #bechloe fic rec #junksen #junksen fanfic

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unadulteratedladycheesecake · 2 years ago

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We recommend you always check the licence status with the relevant local authority prior to commencing any works. Eastern Suburbs Cricket Club has been a community cricket club since 1894. In that time is has been of service to thousands of families both in the Eastern Suburbs area and beyond. Whether you’re after luxury high-end work or a simple installation, we will be able to put our mental and physical skills to work to make sure you receive the best possible result. The team at Mr Glazier Pty Ltd are masters of anything glass.

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decalteam · 4 years ago

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Window tinting north shore

At Decal Team, we offer a full range of window tinting services. This includes supplying and installing window tint solutions on residential and commercial properties as well as on vehicles. We are also professional signwriters servicing the Auckland & Mt. Roskill areas.

To enhance the quality of glass panes and surface in your home, you need to carefully consider the textured. The coating imparts a different texture and tint provides a varied reflection to it. Hence, you could expect to see a one way effect with one type of coating and a patterned reflection with another type. Similarly, a tinted glass adds a different shade. Residential glass can be tinted for energy conservation purpose as well. Reduction in energy cost: Tinting of or coating it obstructs natural white light from entering the home. Hence, it reduces the solar heat from excessively heating the indoors. During winters, the same window tinting north shore will help in providing a thermal blanket.

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tintingexperts · 2 months ago

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#Home window tinting Auckland

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filmscenenz · 8 months ago

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Enhance Privacy and Comfort with Professional Window Tinting Services in Auckland

Are you looking to improve the aesthetics, comfort, and energy efficiency of your home or office space? Look no further than professional window tinting services in Auckland. With a wide range of benefits, including increased privacy, reduced glare, and improved energy efficiency, window tinting is an excellent investment for any property.

At Film Scene, we specialize in providing top-quality window tinting solutions in Auckland for residential and commercial properties across Auckland. Whether you're looking to enhance the comfort of your home or create a more productive work environment in your office, our experienced team has you covered.

Benefits of Window Tinting:

Enhanced Privacy:

With window tinting, you can enjoy increased privacy without sacrificing natural light. Our tinted films are available in various shades and opacities to suit your privacy needs.

Reduced Glare:

Glare from the sun can be a nuisance, especially in office environments where it can cause eye strain and reduce productivity. Window tinting helps minimize glare, creating a more comfortable and productive workspace.

Improved Energy Efficiency:

Window tinting helps regulate the temperature inside your home or office by blocking out excess heat from the sun. This reduces the need for artificial cooling and heating, leading to lower energy bills and a smaller carbon footprint.

UV Protection:

Our window tinting films block up to 99% of harmful UV rays, helping protect your skin and furniture from sun damage. This ensures a healthier and more comfortable indoor environment for you and your family or employees.

Enhanced Aesthetics:

Window tinting adds a touch of elegance and sophistication to any property, enhancing its overall appearance and curb appeal. With a variety of tinting options available, you can customize the look of your windows to complement your existing decor.

Whether you're interested in office window tinting in Auckland or home window tinting on the North Shore, Film Scene has the expertise and experience to meet your needs. Our professional installers use only the highest quality tinting films and state-of-the-art equipment to ensure a flawless finish every time.

Don't wait any longer to experience the benefits of window tinting for your home or office. Contact Film Scene today to schedule a consultation and discover how our window tinting services can transform your space.

#window tinting solutions in Auckland #office window tinting in Auckland #home window tinting on the North Shore

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teodorogordon-blog · 5 years ago

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Develop the Hampton style in your home in Gold Shore today

Do you want an ocean-themed house in the countryside, overlooking the Gold Shore? Do you want a property on a waterfront? Or, do you have an existing property you intend to upgrade in to one of the rising amounts of Hampton style properties Australia has nowadays? Click here house builders

You have arrive at the best page! Hampton style is consistently section of homeowners prime decision because of its popularity. There is just something about their clean aesthetics that conveys the bears of individuals global, Aussies included.

What makes Hamptons style special in Australia

Regarded as the holiday haven of rich and popular persons, the Hamptons style is derived from a seaside community on Long Island named The Hamptons. It's shown by shores and small villages, enormous properties, and New York Elites organizing yard parties featuring off their great life.

In Australia, Hamptons style is characterised by big windows to create the surface in, shaker-style cabinetry, traditional furnishings for a stylish end, and wood surfaces for added aesthetics.

Aussies actually offered the Hamptons style its title: Aussie Glamptons. It has changed into a mixture of conventional National North East Shore style. Their style can be affected by the standard cladded state properties that likewise have the same qualities since the Hamptons style homes.

At first glance, you might think that this is the style meant just for the rich and famous. But with the best home builders Gold Shore has today, you can change your home in to a Hamptons style haven in no time.

Develop the Hamptons style in your home

It may be attractive to move having an all-white inside similar to properties you see on Pinterest. But, white is not the only real color you must choose when recreating the Hampton style properties Australia builders offer. That you do not need certainly to shop too much sometimes as long as you stick to a single color scheme through your home.

Listed here are some ideas to help you out:

1. Bring motivation from the colours of character

That you do not need your home to look want it is not lived. Select colours that put a bit of tints like neutrals, bleached wood shades, tinted shades, and sandy creams. You are able to pick from aqua, navy, and goose egg blue tones. The main element takeaway is to possess peaceful and comforting colours for your inside to help you achieve that tranquil and comfortable vibe. Visit at McCarthy Homes

2. Consider introducing barrier and spring shades

Warm corals work most readily useful with teal and charcoal, providing the location a floral fee. It's not merely comforting, but is also elegant, and complements the natural color palette. Coral and spring shades put color and living to the general scheme of Hampton style properties Australia has these days. They provide off a hot and nurturing tone and assists uplift your mood.

3. Prevent excessively glistening things

When planning the kitchen of your Hamptons house, avoid them from excessively glistening things. Go for lantern style pendant mild suspended above the area table for a timeless look. You should also use wall panelling, such as for example coastal style weatherboards or shiplap. Having a large bay screen with a chair is a good conversation starter.

4. Get realistic in the bathroom

The bathroom is not spared from most of the designing fiasco. Make sure it is well-lit and the tapware is chrome or nickel-plated. A traditional style is what gives living to the entire bathroom design. It would be far better go for bespoke vanities and cabinets for added storage space. You are able to faucet the solutions of new structure house builders to help you build practical bespoke parts for your bathroom.

While the first Hamptons style moves for padded furniture, the Aussie variation ditched that for a more relaxed wicker and cane models matched with relaxed sofas. This is the way Aussies provide their trademark laid-back style that you can see as part of their means of life.

Whether you intend to build a house in the countryside, in the heart of the town, or nearby the beach, you will find no limitations as to the concept you intend to adopt. With the best Gold Shore builders, you can accomplish any concept that matches your tastes.

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samuelmmarcus · 4 years ago

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Beach House with Colorful Interiors

If you feel you usually aren’t a big fan of colorful interiors, this new-construction beach house will change your mind, especially if you’re a fan of turquoise! Located on the shores of Port O Connor, TX, this beach house by Heather Scott Home & Design is a place you won’t forget. Make sure to pin your favorite coastal interior design ideas and keep reading to learn about the many details shared by this talented team:

“When our longtime clients purchased a vacation home along the Texas coast, they wanted their home, particularly the kitchen, to have an inviting and memorable feel with punchy colors that fit the playful nature of the summer beach locale. As one of the anchors of this coastal home, the kitchen’s mix of watercolor hues, organic elements, and other beach house essentials helped define the design of this dynamite beach home kitchen. Ingredients like an eye-catching backsplash with a complementary painted island, woven accents, and lots of white create a combination that feels elegant while still casual enough to suit its coastal setting.

Our goal for this beach house kitchen was for it be as stylish and functional as it was practical for the locale. With concerns from flooding and everyday wear and tear from salt water and sand, we had to make sure everything in the home was beach-friendly and durable. After selecting a light wood flooring, we decided it was in the best interest of the client to switch to a luxury vinyl plank flooring option with the same look, but that offered so much more peace of mind in case of any weather emergency. With the pool area located directly beyond the kitchen, hardwood floors would’ve been less than forgiving on wet feet. It looks like real wood, but in a beach house, it’s a lot more practical. Another influential design element in this kitchen is the striking glass mosaic tile that is equal parts beachy and bright. It also was a key to solving the design puzzle of this space. It is playful yet sophisticated, and it ended up informing not only the color palette but the overall aesthetic of the home. With its striking geometric pattern, subtle sheen, and spectrum of watery blues, the glass mosaic backsplash tile reads more like a work of art than a surface material. Extending the tiled backsplash to the ceiling allowed for the architectural range hood to really pop; translating its distinct blue hue to the kitchen island also helped the whole room flow. The uniformly dressed cabinets, walls, and ceilings in a warmer white hue takes advantage of the kitchen’s ample natural light and makes the room feel even brighter. While soaring ceilings were among the kitchen’s most attractive assets, the height coupled with the sparkling backsplash and all-white cabinetry called for something more grounding. Additionally for an appropriately organic touch, a trio of oversize woven light fixtures add warmth while also being substantial enough to really make a statement in the space. When it comes to the kitchen’s barstools, a stylish quartet draws the eye with a frame clad in woven nylon rope (a nod to the husband’s love of fishing). The crisscross pattern reflects the geometric motif in the backsplash, while the natural materials pay homage to the casual, coastal setting.”

See other stunning house tour by Heather Scott Home & Design:

– Riverside Modern Farmhouse Tour.

Beach House with Colorful Interiors

“When our longtime clients purchased a vacation home along the Texas coast, they wanted their home to have an inviting and memorable feel with punchy interiors that fit the playful nature of the summer beach locale.” – Heather Scott Home & Design.

Walls are in Benjamin Moore OC-17 White Dove in Eggshell.

Flooring: Luxury Vinyl Plank Flooring throughout – similar here – Others: here & here.

Console Table: Available through the designer – similar here – Others: here, here, here, here, here & here.

Chair: Noir Furniture – Others: here, here, here, here & here.

Rug: Surya – Others: here, here, here & here.

Coastal Influences

“As one of the anchors of this coastal home, the kitchen’s mix of watercolor hues, organic elements, and other beach house essentials help define the design of this dynamite beach home kitchen. Ingredients like an eye-catching backsplash with a complementary painted island, woven accents and lots of white, create a combination that feels elegant while still casual enough to suit its coastal setting.”- Heather Scott Home & Design.

Beach House Kitchen

“While soaring ceilings were among the kitchen’s most attractive assets, the height coupled with the sparkling backsplash and all-white cabinetry called for something more grounding. It was essential to introduce organic and natural elements to balance the space. A trio of woven seagrass light fixtures add warmth while also being substantial enough to really make a statement. Additionally, the kitchen’s barstools with a frame clad in woven nylon rope offer more texture and coastal flair to the beach house.” – Heather Scott Home & Design.

Counterstools: here – Others: here, here, here, here, here, here & here.

Island paint color is Benjamin Moore Hydrangea Blue in semi-gloss.

Kitchen Pendants: Arhaus Acala Dome Woven Pendants.

Kitchen Island Dimensions 11’ 9”.

Cabinetry & Backsplash

“An influential design element in this kitchen as mentioned earlier is the striking glass mosaic tile that is equal parts beachy and bright. It also was a key to solving the design puzzle of this space. It is playful yet sophisticated, and it ended up informing not only the color palette but the overall aesthetic of the home.” – Heather Scott Home & Design.

Cabinet paint color is White Dove by Benjamin Moore in Semi-gloss.

Backsplash to the ceiling, Ann Sacks, Lume Glass Mosaic, Color: Sky Blue, Pattern: North – Other Beautiful Options: here, here, here, here, here, here, here & here.

Cabinet Hardware: Schaub Menlo Park Collection 6” pulls, appliance pulls & knobs – Satin Brass.

Kitchen Cabinet Style: Shaker-style with inset detail.

Design Elements

Extending the tiled backsplash to the ceiling allowed for the architectural range hood to really pop; translating its distinct blue hue to the kitchen island also helped the whole room flow. The uniformly dressed cabinets, walls, and ceilings in a warmer white hue takes advantage of the kitchen’s ample natural light and makes the room feel even brighter.” – Heather Scott Home & Design.

Countertops: Silestone Eternal Collection Calcutta Gold – polished.

Kitchen Faucet: Newport Brass Chesterfield – “Satin Brass”.

Cold Water Dispenser: Newport Brass Jacobean – “Satin Brass”

Dining Room

“The kitchen opens up to the dining room, which is furnished with an oversized 10 foot trestle table in a light driftwood finish and natural rattan chairs. It gives the home plenty of space to host family and friends. Just above the table, a saltwater orb chandelier with blue-tinted recycled glass accents the watercolor hues that were selected in the kitchen.” – Heather Scott Home & Design.

Dining Chairs: Serena and Lily Balboa Arm Chairs & Side Chairs.

Dining Table: Bramble in Driftwood, 10 ft. – similar here & here – Others: here, here, here, here, here & here.

Chandelier: Currey & Co.

Butler’s Pantry

“Steps away from the kitchen (behind the door to the left) sits the home’s Butler’s Pantry. We wanted to bring in another bold splash of color and sparkle to this space. Benjamin Moore’s saturated and bold Bermuda Turquoise adds the perfect splash of the color to the cabinets. Brass and lucite hardware adds another hint of sparkle to the space.” – Heather Scott Home & Design.

Cabinet Paint Color: Benjamin Moore 728 Bermuda Turquoise Semi-gloss.

Backsplash: here – similar.

Hardware: Pulls & Knobs.

Living Room

“The goal of this Great Room was to offer plenty of cozy seating for the homeowners to relax and entertain in. Coastal-inspired details, like shades of watercolor blues and shell and rope details, were brought in to make the space feel just as inviting as each space in this vacation home.” – Heather Scott Home & Design.

Sofas: Custom Heather Scott Home & Design – Others: here, here, here, here, here, here & here.

Coffee Table: RH – similar here & here – Others: here, here, here, here, here, here, here & here.

Chests flanking Fireplace: Noir, Adora Chest, Vintage Grey.

Floor Lamp: Visual Comfort, Lilian Floor Lamp.

Console: Noir, Turned Leg Ismail Console.

Rug: here – similar.

Decor

“Waterfront photography and casual pillows create an approachable setting for the living room. The fabric prints by Rebecca Atwood pepper in the happy, youthful feel we wanted for this main living space. It is the perfect space to relax and unwind after soaking up the sun.” – Heather Scott Home & Design.

Art: Slim Aarons Reproduction – Others: here, here, here & here.

Drink Tables: Gabby Home, Lexi Tables.

Sofa pillows: Rebecca Atwood.

Master Bedroom

“Our client’s master bedroom needed to have a soothing simplicity that highlighted the room’s natural light, dramatic vaulted ceilings, and sprawling water views. The bedroom has the perfect combination of restful and rejuvenating qualities, thanks to its soothing neutrals and fiery splash of bright pinks and coastal textures.

The stately platform bed in a casual linen fabric is dressed up with a splash of custom hot pink pillow accents to pep up the sophisticated bedroom retreat. To add texture to the space, a pair of driftwood sticks above the nightstands also pay homage to the locale of the beachside home. In front of the window nook, a pair of custom spindle chairs in a hot pink performance fabric offer the homeowners another seating area to relax and recharge while enjoying their scenic water views. The home’s interiors are layered with sophisticated choices that reflect the homeowners’ tastes, while also staying cognizant of the casual temperament of the beachside home. The bedroom in particular has a comfortable “lived in” feeling and a warm familiarity for the couple to rest and recharge in while vacationing along the coast.” – Heather Scott Home & Design.

Paint Color: Benjamin Moore White Dove.

Chairs: Vanguard Dianne Chair V956-CH, Hobart Blossom fabric – Similar Chairs: here, here, here, here, here & here.

Wall Decor: Palecek.

Bedroom Inspiration

“The master bedroom was designed to have distinct architectural elements like a large oversized window that overlooks sprawling water views and dramatic vaulted weathered grey plank ceilings. One of the most stunning features of this bedroom is the contrasting ceiling texture. It helped set the tone for all of the finishes and textures we brought in with the furnishings and decor. An oversized chandelier with loosely draped beads play up the casual yet glamorous feel of this space. It also adds the perfect centerpiece to the room.” – Heather Scott Home & Design.

Bed: Vanguard MIY Bed – Available through the designer – similar here & here – Other Beautiful Beds: here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here & here.

Nightstands: Bungalow 5 – Other Nightstands: here, here, here, here & here.

Table Lamps: Regina Andrew Glass Dome Table Lamp.

Euro Pillows: Designers Guild, Shanghai Garden, Plum Blossom.

Custom Bolster Pillow: Stroheim Velvet and Stroheim Scatterfield Tape.

Sofa: Vanguard Jacen Footboard Sofa V317-72 – Available through the designer.

Rug: Jaipur Flint Gray & Light Gray 9×12 CIQ04 – Cirque.

Chandelier: Made Goods.

Inspired by this Bedroom:

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Master Bathroom

Walls and ceiling paint color is Benjamin Moore OC-17 White Dove.

Bath runner Custom size: 3’x12’ Surya Germili GER-2315 – Other Runners: here, here, here, here, here & here.

Tiling: Floor Tile, Shower Wall Tile & Shower Pan Tile.

Bath Surround & Shower Frame: Carrara Marble Slab.

Bath Cabinet

Bathroom Cabinet Paint Color: Benjamin Moore OC-17 White Dove in semi-gloss.

Master Bath Faucets: Newport Brass Chesterfield – Satin Brass.

Sconces: Visual Comfort.

Countertop: Carrara Marble.

Hardware: Pulls & Knobs.

Mirrors: here.

Powder Room

Cabinet Paint Color: Sherwin Williams SW 6991 Black Magic in semi-gloss.

Powder Bath Wallpaper: Quadrille, Sigourney Razzle Dazzle on White – Available through the designer.

Faucet: Newport Brass– Others: here, here & here.

Sconces: Ro sham Beaux Ananas Sconce.

Mirror: here, here & here – similar.

Bunk Room

“The custom bunks were built with drawers for storage and shelves for each guest to stow away their belongings. A lattice detail gives the bunk design even more depth and character.” – Heather Scott Home & Design.

This bunkroom comfortably houses six twin bunk beds!

Rug: here.

Bunk Beds

Bunk Beds Paint Color: Benjamin Moore White Dove.

Bedding and Pillows: Lilly Pulitzer Organic Embroidered Trim Sheet Set (includes flat, fitted & 1 standard sham), Euro Shams, Quilts & Bolster Pillows.

Lighting: Ro Sham Beaux Orb Sconce – similar here & here – Others: here, here & here.

Hardware: Schaub Cup Pulls.

Poufs: here .

Bunk Bath

For even more whimsy and color, the bunk bath is wrapped in a darling Katie Kime print. Ocean blue penny rounds dress the floor, while bronze and lucite hardware accents the cabinets. The bunk bath and suite are youthful and inviting for the home’s youngest guests to enjoy for sleepovers.

Cabinet Paint Color: Benjamin Moore OC-17 in semi-gloss.

Wallcovering: Katie Kime Lotus Wallpaper.

Sconces: Kate Spade Prescott Left Sconce.

Faucets: Kohler Purist.

Floor Tile: Tile Shop – similar here.

Den

Upstairs you will find a comfortable Family Room with custom cabinet in Benjamin Moore HC-159 Philipsburg Blue.

Coffee Table: here – 40″.

Pillows: Serena & Lily.

Poufs: here, here & here – similar.

Rug: here – similar.

Games Table

Table: Bernhardt Stockton Round Metal Dining Table – similar here – Other Round Tables: here, here, here, here, here & here.

Chairs: Gabby Coralee Dining Chair – similar here.

Fiddle Leaf Tree: here – similar.

Art: Soicher marin Traveler, “Offshore Sunning”.

Guest Bedroom

“The guest bedroom brings in more of the kiwi green we see in the bathroom below and a fresh mix of pink and coral for the ultimate getaway. A custom window seat allowed us to bring even more vibrant textiles.”

Bed: Noir Venice Bed, Eastern King, Weathered – Others: here, here & here.

Bench: Noir Rope Bench in Com Sister parish Chou Chou fabric – Others: here, here & here.

Pink Custom Pillow: Peter Dunham Textiles.

Nightstands: Worlds Away Alden – similar here.

Rug: Fibreworks Sisal Rug.

Window-seat: Peter Dunham Fabrics.

Beach Artwork: here, here, here, here & here.

Guest Bath

“Our design team was brought in the early planning stages so that we could provide guidance for all of the building selections. This of course included selecting all of the bathroom details like plumbing fixtures, tile, lighting, etc. For this guest bathroom, we took a step on the wild side with a gorgeous palm leaf wallpaper in bright green and blue, which really helped set the tone for the guest suite. The wallpaper paired with satin brass fixtures elevates the look of the bathroom. Classic white subway tile with a wavy/irregular look surrounds the shower walls and small marble hex shaped tile dresses the floor timelessly. To make the bathroom even more bold, the vanity cabinet is painted in a refreshing kiwi color. The vanity mirror is framed with a faux bone tile detail for added texture and interest. Gold bamboo sconces dress up the space even more. The bathroom is a jewel- box offering guests a place to escape and vacation.“

Bathroom wallpaper (green): Cole & Sons Palm Leaves – Others: here.

Shower Faucet: Newport Brass.

Tiling: 4” hex Carrara Marble Floor Tile & 4×12 Wall Tile – similar.

Paint Color

Paint Color: Benjamin Moore 544 Kiwi in Semi-gloss.

Faucet: Shower Set & Faucet: Newport Brass Astor.

Sconces: Visual Comfort Edgemere Wall Light in Gild.

Mirror: Serena & Lily.

Green & Blue Bedroom

Bed: Noir King QS Holden Bed, Eastern King, Teak.

Pillows: Peter Dunham Fig Leaf – Original on Blue – Custom Pillows – Available through the designer.

Nightstands: Worlds Away.

Table Lamps: Arteriors Rory Lamp.

Mirror: Serena & Lily Lanai Mirror.

Dresser

Dresser: Dovetail Bone Inlay Dresser – Available through the designer – Others: here, here, here & here.

Art: Etsy Clare Elsaesser.

Chair: here – similar here.

Pool Bath

Bathroom Tile Wainscotting: here – similar.

Sconces: Worlds Away.

Faucet: Kohler Purist.

Mirror: Serena & Lily Montara Mirror.

Pedestal Sink: Kohler.

Laundry Room

“Across from the mudroom, the beach house laundry room is another jewel. The cabinets are painted in Benjamin Moore Bird’s Egg. The aqua glass chandelier and bright colors in this space make even a chore feel happy.” – Heather Scott Home & Design.

Cabinet Paint Color: Benjamin Moore Bird’s Egg in Semi-gloss.

Laundry Faucet: Kohler Polished Chrome.

Lighting: Regina Andrew Diva Chandelier – Other Colorful Chandeliers: here, here, here, here & here.

Mudroom

“To the right of the kitchen beyond the pocket doors, you will find the home’s mudroom and laundry room. It was important for each room in the home to have playful pops of color and this space is no exception. The mudroom cabinets and lockers offer plenty of storage for all of the pool and beach essentials. They are painted in Benjamin Moore’s Tranquil Blue.” – Heather Scott Home & Design.

Mudroom Paint Color: Tranquil Blue by Benjamin Moore.

Many thanks to the designer for sharing the details above.

Interior Design: Heather Scott Home & Design (Instagram)

Photography: Molly Culver Photography.

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Lead me in Light and Love”.

Have a wonderful day, my friends and we’ll talk again tomorrow.”

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miamibeachbroker · 7 years ago

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6000 Indian Creek

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6000 Indian Creek

6000 Indian Creek DrMiami Beach

With just thirty-four residences in one of three floorplans, 6000 Indian Creek, is certainly exclusive. Each residence has a flow-through design, high speed private elevators and wrap around balconies with glass railing for unobstucted views.

Units: 34 Stories: 25

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6000 Indian Creek condo description

6000 Indian Creek in the Miami Beach neighborhood known as Millionaires Row was completed in 2006. This 25 story mid-rise condo building has a distinctive elliptical shapre with no more than two residences per floor. This design creates stunning views of the Intracoastal waterway and the Atlantic Ocean from virtually every room in each residence!

6000 Indian Creek offers either two bedroom half floors at 1,300 square feet or three bedroom full floors at 2,800 square feet.

The 6000 Indian Creek location is equidistant from the South Beach nightlife and the Bal Harbour shopping experience, plus has easy access to Miami International Airport. With the beach just steps away this is an ideal Miami Beach location

6000 Indian Creek – Residence Features:

8′-8″ high ceilings

Grand wrap-around open balconies with glass railings

Large walk-in closets

All major rooms open to balconies

Internet/CAT 5 Cable ready

Exquisite Bathrooms

Philippe Starck-designed bathroom fixtures

Glass Master Bath Vanity Tops, Marble Floors

Dual Person Marble Shower with Dual Controls

Marble Shower benches

Bidets in Master Bath

Luxurious Custom Cabinetry

6000 Indian Creek – Building Features:

Flow-through units

On the Intracoastal waterway

Security controlled high-speed private elevators

Wrap-around balconies with glass railings

Solar tinted windows

Fire protection sprinkler system

Reflection pool

Tropical landscaped pool deck and grounds

Heated swimming pool

3-story atrium lobby

24-hour controlled lobby access

Spectacular Porte-Cochere

Concierge

Mail and package reception

Security staff

Secured access parking garage

Mail room

Fitness center

Valet

Gourmet Kitchens

Sub-Zero refrigerator/freezer

Sub-Zero undercounter wine cooler @ Unit ‘C’

Miele cooktop, oven & dishwasher

Miele exhaust hood

Microwave oven

Granite Countertops

Fine Imported Cabinetry

Under Cabinet Lighting

Built-in Kitchen Appliances

Dual-compartment Franke stainless steel kitchen sink

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CONDOS FOR SALE

CONDOS FOR RENT

RECENTLY SOLD

CONDOS FOR SALE

2 Bedroom Units for Sale in 6000 Indian Creek, Miami Beach

CityCondo NameUnit NumberBedsBathsLiving AreaYear BuiltPriceTotal Pic

Miami Beach

6000 Indian Creek

12B

2.5

1300

2006

$665,000

Miami Beach

6000 Indian Creek

2.5

1300

2006

$549,000

Miami Beach

6000 Indian Creek Condo

5-B

2.5

02006

$529,500

CONDOS FOR RENT

2 Bedroom Units for Rent in 6000 Indian Creek, Miami Beach

CityCondo NameUnit NumberRent PeriodLiving AreaBedsBathsPets AllowedPriceTotal Pic

Miami Beach

6000 Indian Creek Condo

Year

1300

2.5

Yes

$3,200

Miami Beach

6000 Indian Creek Condo

Year

2.5

$2,998

RECENTLY SOLD

2 Bedroom Units for Sale in 6000 Indian Creek, Miami Beach

CityCondo NameUnit#BedsBathsLiving AreaYear BuiltSold PriceClosing Date

Miami Beach

6000 Indian Creek

2.5

1300

2006

$515,000

10.18.17

Miami Beach

6000 Indian Creek Condo

18B

2.5

1300

2006

$530,000

07.17.17

Miami Beach

6000 Indian Creek

1202B

2.5

1300

2006

$575,000

12.15.06

6000 Indian Creek – FLOOR PLANS

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Residence A

Residence B

Residence C

Residence A

Residence B

Residence C

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phyllisz95697560-blog · 7 years ago

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September's Warm and comfortable Times, Cool Nights.

That is actually Suggested Internet page definitely quick and easy making a unique as well as ornamental light-weight leaf formed cement bird bath for your backyard landscape. Final month, I included Helianthus 'Lemon Queen', yet another from my cutting garden results accounts, as a favorite. Typically communicating, garden compost for a small property landscape consists of points that usually will otherwise be thrown right into the trash. So that becomes part of that. I presume beyond, our goal is to have extra constant same-restaurant purchases remodeling at Olive Landscape compared to we have actually possessed. The Timberland Playground Zoo Rose Backyard was actually grown originally to deliver a free of cost, public display from roses.

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trevor-f-coelho · 8 years ago

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Trevor : Eve of the Event

Fumbling about in the dark looking for his glasses Trevor rushed trying to see. A low hum, more music than anything else plays through his head, like a rhythm with lyrics that plays about in a voice he can’t understand. It sings to him, compelling him to move, to get up, to worry about nothing else but to get as far as he can from this spot. He’s not sure why but Trevor listens, grabbing up the clothes he had worn the night before and headi g down the stairs. His light winter jacket and boots lay discarded on the floor; hurrying he scoops it up and makes his way out the door. He wraps his face in a scarf and still without the glasses stumbles off the poorch out into the night. Snow thick and deep covered the world and still more fell by the second. It drifted lazily from the sky down hanging heavy on everything, even in the trees that lined the boulevard like skeletons slowly growing back their flesh. Walking down the street his feet crunching through drifts he could feel the pull of the whisper leading him through the night. Down the street shuffling through the tire tracks cars had made, the sidewalks so packed he couldnt go far because they had not yet been cleared. The voice didnt care it just called him toward the river, ever insistent with him gaining speed. The river was the heart of the city, running through long as serpent winding its way from north to south, long since frozen over. Trevor looked out at the homes across the river Christmas lights shining off the wet new fallen snow cast flashing cascades that sparkled in all the holiday hues. The voice in his head peaked a shrill cry that would have made dogs cry out; he needed to hurry. He made his way down the bank crunching through hip deep snow and ice out onto the frozen river, it creaked and groaned under his weight, seeming ready to break any moment. The voice urged him on. The sees lights like ghosts playing about in the falling snow shinning from cars passing on the bridge make him look up into the orange tinted sky, Trevor always hated that colour, the way the streetlights turned the clouds the colour of a moldy orange. The light reflecting from the windows should have seemed warm and welcoming, instead caused dread within his heart; something was coming. Trying hard to ignore the sound of the ice cracking beneath his every step he moved on knowing that he had to move south, away from the warmth and light had to move fast. Onward the voice seemed to say, something was coming, but it wasn’t too late. If he got to where the voice wanted him then he would be alright, so move he did. As he walked he realized he wasn’t alone anymore, others had also walked out onto the river and were heading south some looking scared, others resolute. Looks of concentration painting their faces, young and old, all seeming to walk alone. Paying little attention to anyone else, sparing no more than a mere glance in any others direction, like him they heard it too. Some were even followed by bewildered looking people, followers who seemed like they were not meant to be there. Obviously they couldn’t hear the urgency in the whisper, or maybe couldn’t hear it at all. Trevor could, so on he marched, coat drawn tight against the snow and ice blowing madly across the rivers frozen surface, Trevor knew he was close, he could feel it now. The voice was getting louder. It seemed like forever since his thoughts were his own the droning in his ears a dull roar it peaked again this time so high it fwlt like needles driving red hot into his skull. He cried out dropping to his hands and knees watching as others around also fell, and as suddenas it had started it was gone. Not even a ringing in his ears, no lingering effect, it was quiet. He looked up as he stood looking at the people around him as they fled off the river. He wanted to move too, but he couldn’t. A light bloomed all around sudden and bright, a dark rose colour bleeding into the clouds. The sky was getting lighter now, more vibrant, like the clouds where made of waves of fire. The horizon exploding into intense white but not from the east as it should; the sky to the south was becoming more intense by the second. Unable to turn his eyes from the sky he could see the clouds above begin to bulge the reds and yellows clear as fire in the sky turned the snow into a light rain. The heat was becoming more then many could bear, people discarding their coats and other winter clothes. The ice beneath their feet began groaning ominously, as the sky opened up and a scene from the pits of hell come soaring down, crashing into downtown. Crushing buildings throwing debris and fire in all directions the shockwave was the last thing the river needed as it erupted up sending people flying in the dust and debris thick clouds of green smog rose up around them all as they came crashing back to earth. People rolling across the ground some falling back into the water some lying still others still reeling in pain on the shore. Trevor stood up slowly feeling the temperature quickly seeming to return as freezing cold gripped in around. The mist, a thin viel that seemed to glow. He hobbled to his feet staring at his leg, it was sore and stiff and where the mist touched him it felt hot. He moved to be free of the rising fog and through its shroud saw a woman near the river staring out at the icy waves. At a glance he could see her staring off into nothing but she waved to him calling him forward glancing back at him over her shoulder. He could see all that was her. Most of all he felt her pain, fetl all the people around him. The greenish fog had risen chocking everything in it, had to be this that was the cause? Burning, freezing. The whispers returned with a fury, a roar in his head screaming like white noise. He walks to her and she takes his hand, she smiles up at him; he has never seen so clearly before. With all he has left he falls back taking them both into cold darkness of the flowing river. It rises up swallowing them both, closing around them the black waters blotting out the world. He feels her pull him tight, his hands numb as she hugs herself tight to him, he’s so warm against her but her arms can hold on any and longer the current whips them apart. He can no longer feel her, the beat of her heart as she had clung to his chest. The water is getting thicker, gelid icing swirls freezing his eyes shut, his hair breaking like glass. The waters seem to burn like liquid fire, cuts as things brush past in the current screaming at him. He tries to struggle against the current, tries so hard to fight back as the world gets dark. It's so hot, and, itchy? Trevor lurches awake the covers twisted around him tightly; was it a dream? He looks around the room in the dark, where was his glasses? It was hard to think, hard to see, the dream was already fading in the blaring ringing in his ears. Why did he feel like he needed to go outside?

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