Drabble Tag
Challenge: PotC :: Tia Dalma/Anamaria :: Heat
Word Count: 212
Title:
Where the Heart Is
It be hot in de swamp. Not hot like de rest of de island, dat be all bright sun an’ glarin’ sand. No. De swamp, it hot like de cauldron of hell, an’ I have stirred dat cauldron an’ seen all dat bubbled wit-in it, so I know of what I speak.
Dat cauldron, de steam and stink, an holiness of dat swamp, dat’s my home - always on de edges of tings. I know dat’s where tings happen.
So does she.
De child who is not so much younger den me, she who been sailin’ to d’end of d’earth. She knows dis place is home.
I feel her comin’, days away, in de roll of de mist an’ de song of d’owls, feel her comin’ back to me. De silver in my mouth don’ scare her none, nor de second sight in my eyes. She come back to me, every time, when she weary an hurtin’ an too sick o’ dat world o’ men dat I know she’ll only go sail back to again.
When she come, rowin’ tru de steam an de mosquitoes, she do it ‘cause she comin’ back to me.
Anamaria, girl, your soul, it belong to de lady Ocean, but your heart, I know it belong to me.
*****
New Prompts:
CSI (LV) :: Sara/Sophia :: “When I was Fifteen”
The Kushiel Series :: Phedre no Delauny de Montreve / Nicola l’Envers y Aragon :: Hot Water
Discworld (The Last Hero, technically) :: Sessifet (Goddess of the Afternoon) / Libertina (Goddess of the sea, apple pie, certain types of ice cream and short lengths of string) :: What Goddesses get Up To when they’re Bored.
Word Count: 212
Title:
Where the Heart Is
It be hot in de swamp. Not hot like de rest of de island, dat be all bright sun an’ glarin’ sand. No. De swamp, it hot like de cauldron of hell, an’ I have stirred dat cauldron an’ seen all dat bubbled wit-in it, so I know of what I speak.
Dat cauldron, de steam and stink, an holiness of dat swamp, dat’s my home - always on de edges of tings. I know dat’s where tings happen.
So does she.
De child who is not so much younger den me, she who been sailin’ to d’end of d’earth. She knows dis place is home.
I feel her comin’, days away, in de roll of de mist an’ de song of d’owls, feel her comin’ back to me. De silver in my mouth don’ scare her none, nor de second sight in my eyes. She come back to me, every time, when she weary an hurtin’ an too sick o’ dat world o’ men dat I know she’ll only go sail back to again.
When she come, rowin’ tru de steam an de mosquitoes, she do it ‘cause she comin’ back to me.
Anamaria, girl, your soul, it belong to de lady Ocean, but your heart, I know it belong to me.
*****
New Prompts:
CSI (LV) :: Sara/Sophia :: “When I was Fifteen”
The Kushiel Series :: Phedre no Delauny de Montreve / Nicola l’Envers y Aragon :: Hot Water
Discworld (The Last Hero, technically) :: Sessifet (Goddess of the Afternoon) / Libertina (Goddess of the sea, apple pie, certain types of ice cream and short lengths of string) :: What Goddesses get Up To when they’re Bored.