[fic] to the other side; y tu mamá también; luisa cortés
to the other side; pg
y tu mamá también; luisa cortés; 263
comment fic for ineffort and her ladyfest ficathon. this kind of came out of nowhere.
podfic for this was recorded and post at the awesome ladies podfic anthology
Luisa remembers her youth.
She laughs and it almost hurts. There's a shadow across her doorway but no one enters. She hears a cry down the hall, tunes it out, sinks back into her reverie.
Ten years old. No -- younger. Swing sets and mary janes, bluest of blue skies. Even in those days she used to think about the end of the world, as children often do. There are always stories and warnings and whispers. You grow up knowing that somehow, it all ends.
One way or another.
You imagine yourself strong, braving fires and disaster, or curling away, tucked deep down in some dark hole, riding out the coming end, finding your way to the other side.
But not Luisa.
Not now.
Now, she is weak.
But she will never be old.
She feels it. She understands what it means, what freedoms are taken away. But this, perhaps, is worse. Many, most even, dread old age. Luisa craves it. She would like nothing more than to become old.
She never will.
At least she took control. Before now. Before it was too late. She had herself a time. And she knows that's all that she can really ask for. Knows that's all she gets.
She remembers chasing down a fairy tale of blue water and white sand. She remembers the things she learned along the way. She thinks that maybe she's still chasing after that mythical place.
Maybe she will get there.
Someday.
In her dreams she wades into the water.
In her dreams her destiny is her own.
In her dreams...
-fin.
y tu mamá también; luisa cortés; 263
comment fic for ineffort and her ladyfest ficathon. this kind of came out of nowhere.
podfic for this was recorded and post at the awesome ladies podfic anthology
Luisa remembers her youth.
She laughs and it almost hurts. There's a shadow across her doorway but no one enters. She hears a cry down the hall, tunes it out, sinks back into her reverie.
Ten years old. No -- younger. Swing sets and mary janes, bluest of blue skies. Even in those days she used to think about the end of the world, as children often do. There are always stories and warnings and whispers. You grow up knowing that somehow, it all ends.
One way or another.
You imagine yourself strong, braving fires and disaster, or curling away, tucked deep down in some dark hole, riding out the coming end, finding your way to the other side.
But not Luisa.
Not now.
Now, she is weak.
But she will never be old.
She feels it. She understands what it means, what freedoms are taken away. But this, perhaps, is worse. Many, most even, dread old age. Luisa craves it. She would like nothing more than to become old.
She never will.
At least she took control. Before now. Before it was too late. She had herself a time. And she knows that's all that she can really ask for. Knows that's all she gets.
She remembers chasing down a fairy tale of blue water and white sand. She remembers the things she learned along the way. She thinks that maybe she's still chasing after that mythical place.
Maybe she will get there.
Someday.
In her dreams she wades into the water.
In her dreams her destiny is her own.
In her dreams...
-fin.