Drabbles 21-25

Wedding Guilt

Author’s notes: Prompt #754, prompt “It’s my wedding day…”, from the lj community, all_unwritten.

It’s my wedding day, and as I wait for the march to begin, I pray. International Rescue is closed down for the occasion. Thunderbird Five is empty; Thunderbird One rests in her hangar. The entire family is here, putting aside their responsibilities for their brother … and me. Even so, they still think, as I do: what if? What if some disaster strikes and we’re not there? How guilty they, and I, would feel if that happened. So I pray.

The march sounds out. The crowd rises, all eyes turning. I smile, squeezing my father’s arm. There’s no going back now.


Author’s notes: Prompt #827, prompt, “unlikely friendship” from the lj community, all_unwritten.

Unlikely friends? Hell, yes. Here I was, gung-ho astronaut candidate, out to make history, and I befriend this gentle, thoughtful Malaysian who loved orchids and haute cuisine as much as I loved spaceflight. Who could’ve predicted we’d be friends? Or that he’d come to work for me, being my occasional conscience, pointing out directions I’d have never seen without his quiet prodding.

I’ll never understand how I saved him and Tin-Tin, and I marvel that he’s chosen to serve in my household. Maybe that’s what makes our friendship so unlikely—we’ll never fully understand each other … and we don’t need to.

Autumn Vision

Author’s notes: Prompt #935, a photo prompt, from the live journal community, all_unwritten.

The Firefly rumbled along toward the wildfire. The narrow, winding road required Virgil’s attention, but he glanced up often to gauge the smoke’s thickness. Then they rounded the bend and his breath caught.

Reds, oranges, yellows, greens, so vibrant, so perfect that his fingers twitched, wishing for paints and brushes. The smoke, a swirling haze, obscured the background, leaving only the dark trees and their colors.

A moment’s vision and The Firefly rumbled past. Virgil sighed. Would they lose this autumn beauty?

No. Not today.

His resolve strengthened, he tucked the view away, hoping he could later do it justice.

The Distance Between

Author’s notes: Prompt #862, “the distance between us”, from the lj community, all_unwritten.

My home, as was yours, is in Malaysia. Deep in the jungles, away from prying eyes. A mysterious place, long considered cursed.

Your home now, a tropical island. A lush, unremarked spot in the vast Pacific. Perfectly cloaking secrets, and those who would remain incognito.

Yet, a few steps, and I close the distance between us. I call, and you answer, revealing your thoughts, the buried depths of your memories, turning you from faithful to traitorous in a heartbeat, leaving no trace of my incursion.

Though leagues separate us, it is an illusion. We are ever together, you and I.

Three Little Words

Author’s notes: Prompt #1425, danger zone, from the lj community, all_unwritten.

The Danger Zone.

That’s what we call it. A nice generic name for whatever we’re going to face, a phrase whose meaning has long been leached away. It tucks the situation into a neat, sanitary package, hiding the mud, the blood, the flames, and frozen darkness. In those three words we fold the dead, the dying, the devastated, and the few, lucky, unscathed survivors. All we experience, the joys, despair, the screams seared into our memories are smoothly covered as we relive them in debriefing. Every failure and triumph alike are wrapped up in three little words… the Danger Zone.

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