Do Better (1/4)
anonymous
October 5 2010, 12:20:11 UTC
Do Better Or, In which Ivan Braginsky succeeds through failure -
14.
“Hello!” says the man from the other side of the railing. He’s smiling, very brightly and very softly. Gentle. “Do you mind?”
Ivan blinks in surprise, but makes himself smile too. “Be my guest.”
He swings himself up and over the railing and flops himself down- there’s no better word, really, like a Labrador- on two feet of concrete they sit on and dangles his feet over the ledge. The stranger looks down.
Ivan looks too. It’s a very long way. But he already knows that.
“I’ve noticed you,” he says with that ever-present smile. “I see you every time I go past on my bike.” He waves to a shiny sky-blue machine. It’s very pretty- like the frozen waves far beneath them, very much like something a uni student would ride. Ivan looks closer at the man next to him- blond hair, roundish face, smiling smiling eyes. He is a uni student. Probably. “…You’re thinking, right? About it “I am,” says Ivan lightly
( ... )
Do Better (2/4)
anonymous
October 5 2010, 12:25:36 UTC
5.
“My life has been most simple and most ordinary, and therefore most terrible.”
“I would not have picked you for a reader of Tolstoy,” comments Ivan flatly to the Asian man sitting on the ledge next to him.
“Sleep is good, death is better, but the best is never to have been born at all.”
“Heinrich Heine. Germans are most morbid.”
“There is no refuge from confession but suicide, and suicide is confession.”
“America,” he offers, not really interested in anything anymore. “This life bores me.”
It’s a bad day, and Ivan thinks this time he might just-
-he might-
The Asian man breathes, like something liquid sliding between them, eyes sad. Sadness seeping out of the pores of his porcelain face. “You will hate a beautiful song if you sing it too often, my friend.”
“Korean?” asks Ivan, and then the man says “Korean,” and the two of them sit.
“Will you be my second?” he asks eventually, not really meaning it. “For I would prefer to harakiri after the proper fashion as befits the shame of my crime
( ... )
Do Better (3/4)
anonymous
October 5 2010, 12:32:18 UTC
11.
Ivan barely has the time to raise his head from the thawing river when a school bag catapults over his head and sails down, down, down into the depths below. A rattling fills the air as thin adolescent limbs scramble at the wire fencing trying to find a hold and wrest their body over.
The boy gives up half a minute later, just falling back to the footpath and curling up into a little angry ball.
The boy’s hair is in faded blond ringlets that look very soft and well cared after. “Little boy,” calls Ivan. “You should not have thrown your bag away.”
“Shut up!” the boy snarls in a voice that is savage and not at all like what you would expect from one with a face so sweet and pure. “Like you can talk, you jumper! Everyone knows why you’re always here! You’re a coward! You don’t understand anything! Ivan sighs, eventually, and steps back over to the other side to join the rest of humanity, for a moment. He takes the boy by the hand and leads him back up the street, and they buy ice-cream as Ivan’s melancholy takes a back seat
( ... )
Do Better (4/4+)
anonymous
October 5 2010, 12:39:42 UTC
Ivan stands dumb for a good hour before he realises that his heart is thrumming.
He doesn’t stand on the bridge this day. There are too many people on the look out. He spends the day in his empty house looking through dusty photographs of his family and thinking.
-
44.
“You!”
“…yes?”
“You!” he says again, leaning unsteadily on the bars next to him. He’s a tourist, definitely, with that accent. The street lights from the city across the river make his skin glow like bronze- blue lights, red lights, green lights-GO. “Some of us are pissed and need to be all depressed, got it? You gonna jump or what?”
The man’s grinning at him. The man’s grinning in his face, stone drunk. And suddenly it all just annoys him to that point and he wishes they’d stop questioning him.
Fine.
Ivan turns and steps-
-he doesn’t step, because the man’s caught his shoulder in a vicegrip and he’s pulled him back. They bang against the fence with a crash- and the world wheels around them and the lights from the city are like stars as they wheel
( ... )
Re: Do Better (4+/4+)
anonymous
October 5 2010, 16:07:03 UTC
Anon? That was just beautiful. I like the anachronistic pattern in which Russia meets (and saves) everyone else, I like the backstories, and I love the ending. Yes, it's a bit out of the blue, but when is real life that predictable?
Five stars, A+, I don't know. This is one of the best fills I've ever read. Lovely fill, anon, please keep up the great work!
Or, In which Ivan Braginsky succeeds through failure
-
14.
“Hello!” says the man from the other side of the railing. He’s smiling, very brightly and very softly. Gentle. “Do you mind?”
Ivan blinks in surprise, but makes himself smile too. “Be my guest.”
He swings himself up and over the railing and flops himself down- there’s no better word, really, like a Labrador- on two feet of concrete they sit on and dangles his feet over the ledge. The stranger looks down.
Ivan looks too. It’s a very long way. But he already knows that.
“I’ve noticed you,” he says with that ever-present smile. “I see you every time I go past on my bike.” He waves to a shiny sky-blue machine. It’s very pretty- like the frozen waves far beneath them, very much like something a uni student would ride. Ivan looks closer at the man next to him- blond hair, roundish face, smiling smiling eyes. He is a uni student. Probably. “…You’re thinking, right? About it “I am,” says Ivan lightly ( ... )
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“My life has been most simple and most ordinary, and therefore most terrible.”
“I would not have picked you for a reader of Tolstoy,” comments Ivan flatly to the Asian man sitting on the ledge next to him.
“Sleep is good, death is better, but the best is never to have been born at all.”
“Heinrich Heine. Germans are most morbid.”
“There is no refuge from confession but suicide, and suicide is confession.”
“America,” he offers, not really interested in anything anymore. “This life bores me.”
It’s a bad day, and Ivan thinks this time he might just-
-he might-
The Asian man breathes, like something liquid sliding between them, eyes sad. Sadness seeping out of the pores of his porcelain face. “You will hate a beautiful song if you sing it too often, my friend.”
“Korean?” asks Ivan, and then the man says “Korean,” and the two of them sit.
“Will you be my second?” he asks eventually, not really meaning it. “For I would prefer to harakiri after the proper fashion as befits the shame of my crime ( ... )
Reply
Ivan barely has the time to raise his head from the thawing river when a school bag catapults over his head and sails down, down, down into the depths below. A rattling fills the air as thin adolescent limbs scramble at the wire fencing trying to find a hold and wrest their body over.
The boy gives up half a minute later, just falling back to the footpath and curling up into a little angry ball.
The boy’s hair is in faded blond ringlets that look very soft and well cared after. “Little boy,” calls Ivan. “You should not have thrown your bag away.”
“Shut up!” the boy snarls in a voice that is savage and not at all like what you would expect from one with a face so sweet and pure. “Like you can talk, you jumper! Everyone knows why you’re always here! You’re a coward! You don’t understand anything! Ivan sighs, eventually, and steps back over to the other side to join the rest of humanity, for a moment. He takes the boy by the hand and leads him back up the street, and they buy ice-cream as Ivan’s melancholy takes a back seat ( ... )
Reply
He doesn’t stand on the bridge this day. There are too many people on the look out. He spends the day in his empty house looking through dusty photographs of his family and thinking.
-
44.
“You!”
“…yes?”
“You!” he says again, leaning unsteadily on the bars next to him. He’s a tourist, definitely, with that accent. The street lights from the city across the river make his skin glow like bronze- blue lights, red lights, green lights-GO. “Some of us are pissed and need to be all depressed, got it? You gonna jump or what?”
The man’s grinning at him. The man’s grinning in his face, stone drunk. And suddenly it all just annoys him to that point and he wishes they’d stop questioning him.
Fine.
Ivan turns and steps-
-he doesn’t step, because the man’s caught his shoulder in a vicegrip and he’s pulled him back. They bang against the fence with a crash- and the world wheels around them and the lights from the city are like stars as they wheel ( ... )
Reply
“What’s your name?” he asks after, as they walk hand in hand to a nearby bakery with sunflowers arranges in the window.
“Natalya. Yours?”
Good enough isn’t a fine ending, but as a beginning, well, it’s a start.
-
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_countries_by_suicide_rate
Did you know?
Lithuania is no longer the top country for suicide. This dubious honor now belongs to the lovely Belarus.
The countries above were chosen for their contrast, the ability to link into something cohesive, and personal bias. Sorry. :D
Russia is very hard to characterise, realised an anon who has never actually had to write a Russia beyond two dimensions.
My one regret- not putting in America. But hey, he's paired FAR TOO OFTEN with Russia OH GOD I'm going to be killed
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Reply
Five stars, A+, I don't know. This is one of the best fills I've ever read. Lovely fill, anon, please keep up the great work!
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