The alphabet of feeling
Because I promised akachankami's teddy. For ar_drabbles challenge #89, language.
Love was a language Laura never learned to speak. When her work was put aside and Bill not yet home she'd wander his quarters looking for a Rosetta stone, some way to understand the love he so prodigiously flung around while she always found herself with the words trapped like a lump in her throat.
After Earth, she burned her maps and books and found the answer scratched into the ashes of her life. Love was not a language, it was air, and she was gasping for breath.
Maybe I've earned the right to live a little before I die.
Love was a language Laura never learned to speak. When her work was put aside and Bill not yet home she'd wander his quarters looking for a Rosetta stone, some way to understand the love he so prodigiously flung around while she always found herself with the words trapped like a lump in her throat.
After Earth, she burned her maps and books and found the answer scratched into the ashes of her life. Love was not a language, it was air, and she was gasping for breath.
Maybe I've earned the right to live a little before I die.