FIC: Resolutions
Title: Resolutions
Rating: G
Word Count: 280
Resolutions
The sky was filled with paper dragons, or so the children said as they pulled their elders into the streets to dance in the confetti breath. "It's the new year!" they would shout, spinning and twirling amongst each other, hand in hand. "Happy New Year!" they would continue, trying to catch the falling dragons into their hands as if they were trying to capture a butterfly.
Their elders would talk amongst themselves, fading back out of the light and following the shadows. Morose comments rise up towards the descending dragons: they've managed to survive another year, it was a close one, but they've done it. Now they have to to it again and again, until the day they die.
Most have lost their childlike optimism. Some try to be naive to the cold waves of the real world, but it's there in their faces at every waking moment and eventually they sink beneath the ripples and accept their fate.
"I caught one, I caught one!"
"What was your resolution?"
Children laugh, play...
"You should keep those things secret. Like birthday wishes, dude."
"Nuuu-uh. It's not the same!"
To go back in time to that period... when nothing else mattered then the there and now... To the point where cost of living and one's future held little significance... The morose shadows shift and moan to this loss that the new year always reminds them of; they cannot go back in time. They're trapped with this brush of nostalgia and memory.
Confetti in their hair - the breath of dragons.
"Burn us to ashes," a man whispers, staring up at the barrage of paper from the sky, "quickly, while there's still time."
Rating: G
Word Count: 280
Resolutions
The sky was filled with paper dragons, or so the children said as they pulled their elders into the streets to dance in the confetti breath. "It's the new year!" they would shout, spinning and twirling amongst each other, hand in hand. "Happy New Year!" they would continue, trying to catch the falling dragons into their hands as if they were trying to capture a butterfly.
Their elders would talk amongst themselves, fading back out of the light and following the shadows. Morose comments rise up towards the descending dragons: they've managed to survive another year, it was a close one, but they've done it. Now they have to to it again and again, until the day they die.
Most have lost their childlike optimism. Some try to be naive to the cold waves of the real world, but it's there in their faces at every waking moment and eventually they sink beneath the ripples and accept their fate.
"I caught one, I caught one!"
"What was your resolution?"
Children laugh, play...
"You should keep those things secret. Like birthday wishes, dude."
"Nuuu-uh. It's not the same!"
To go back in time to that period... when nothing else mattered then the there and now... To the point where cost of living and one's future held little significance... The morose shadows shift and moan to this loss that the new year always reminds them of; they cannot go back in time. They're trapped with this brush of nostalgia and memory.
Confetti in their hair - the breath of dragons.
"Burn us to ashes," a man whispers, staring up at the barrage of paper from the sky, "quickly, while there's still time."