Ficlets

[annapeace.livejournal.com]

Title: When You Don't Have To Look To Know
Rating: pg
Players: Brad Richards/Vinny Lecavalier
Summary: Banter in the bed.


“Vinny, would you shut up already?” Annoyance.

“Make me.” Bored and rebellious.

“You are so immature.” Exasperation.

“You like it.” Teasing.

“I hate you.” Vehement lying.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better!” Victorious gloating.

“Vinny, if you don’t shut up right now…” Warning growl.

“What are you going to do? You don’t scare...me...........oh..................you don’t have to look so pleased with yourself.”

“You don’t have to look so freshly fucked either, but you don’t hear me complaining.”

--

Title: Breaking Brodeur
Rating: G
Players: None...really. *g*
Summary: Ponderment of existence. For hatefic challenge.



I am at the edge of my world. I teeter on the brink of open space, and I pray to whatever higher powers there may be that a breeze might not pick up. One strong puff and I am done for. I will be left to spiral down into the emptiness with nothing softer than hard mahogany ground to greet me.

It was not always this way. There was a time when I was at the center of my world, surrounded by others who could do no less than to worship me for the God I truly was. I was bigger than all of those other mundane, working trivialities, and I often spent my days surveying my domain, nodding my approval when I was pleased. Those are days I miss. Days when I was gazed upon fondly; when Melanie would pass by and skim her hand over my head; when the children would laugh and fight over who got to play with me more.

Now, as I stand in a perpetual balancing act with half of me stable and the other half on the cusp of plunging, I can only remember the days before the move, before the separation, before the divorce. I am forgotten on a corner, put out of the way by hands that no longer care and set to gather dust for the rest of my days.

Perhaps it is better if I let myself fall rather than let some hurrying person’s reckless elbow end it all for me. At least that way, I shall have a remaining shred of control over my pathetic existence. I can go out with the dignity I’ve always dreamed of.

In the end, it does not matter what I decide. The solid mass beneath me shifts, sharply, just once, and my head tilts…just enough to allow gravity to take its course. Now I am whistling through the air, my head bouncing back and forth uncontrollably, because I know what is about to come and I fear it, I really do-

Right before I hit the ground, I hope that no one will walk on my pieces and cut their feet. It is over in a single shattering of my entire being.