to enter as if unawares
For ar_drabbles challenge #50, "fall." Thank you, bsg_aussiegirl, for posting early this week.
Sometimes it seemed like her whole life was about spiraling downward. She'd been Adar's fallen woman, and on the fall day when she mustered the courage to pick herself up and reject him, she'd fallen ill. Then the Colonies fell and she fell into the presidency.
Everything fell into her job description. She was weak as a new-fallen lamb but she didn't have time to fall apart. She had to fall into line or fall on her sword, and so she fell to work.
People like Gaius Baltar fell all over Madame President. The faithful fell to their knees whenever Pythia appeared. Commander Adama was always lurking, waiting patiently for Laura to fall on her face.
She thought that in a different time, a different place, she might fallen into his blue eyes, into his voice which fell on her ears like velvet, into the unexpected poetry which could sometimes fall from his lips. In chamalla dreams she fell to her knees before him, her hair falling softly to enclose them in a private world, rising and falling above him.
As she fell in and out of consciousness she regretted her falls, wished she had mustered the courage to jump.
Sometimes it seemed like her whole life was about spiraling downward. She'd been Adar's fallen woman, and on the fall day when she mustered the courage to pick herself up and reject him, she'd fallen ill. Then the Colonies fell and she fell into the presidency.
Everything fell into her job description. She was weak as a new-fallen lamb but she didn't have time to fall apart. She had to fall into line or fall on her sword, and so she fell to work.
People like Gaius Baltar fell all over Madame President. The faithful fell to their knees whenever Pythia appeared. Commander Adama was always lurking, waiting patiently for Laura to fall on her face.
She thought that in a different time, a different place, she might fallen into his blue eyes, into his voice which fell on her ears like velvet, into the unexpected poetry which could sometimes fall from his lips. In chamalla dreams she fell to her knees before him, her hair falling softly to enclose them in a private world, rising and falling above him.
As she fell in and out of consciousness she regretted her falls, wished she had mustered the courage to jump.