ROTM 1.33.1 - Bring me the sunset in a cup
1.33.1 - Bring me the sunset in a cup. (Emily Dickenson)
Sunset in a cup, sunrise in a teapot, afternoon in a Tupperware container... whatever. How and when doesn't matter. But if you could bring me a little of that sunlight, somehow, I'm pretty sure you don't know just how grateful I would be.
One of the many unfunny ironies about the whole vampire thing is that I wasn't even a day person when I was human. It's not like I was the kind of person who adored being out-of-doors, basking in the sunlight while riding my horse or hiking over the hills. Pretty much from the age of fifteen, I didn't roll out of bed before noon if I could help it. Sunlight usually meant headaches and hangovers. Sometimes it meant whatever backbreaking labor my father could devise for me to do as his idea of penance for whatever sins I'd committed the night before.
No, I was a night person. Drinking, carousing, wenching-- and man, that's a word that just doesn't get used enough anymore-- those were nighttime activities. Things that would take you into the wee hours, and you'd never notice until that damned sun started peeping over the horizon.
Of course, there's that thing about the grass and being green.
I've managed to get a look at the sun a couple of times in the last few years, and let me tell you, after two hundred forty years of being denied it, I doubt there could be many things more beautiful.
Bright, blazing sunlight out of a pure blue sky, shining down on an endless stretch of Southern California beach. So worth it.
Angel
'Angel' the series
Word Count: 271
Sunset in a cup, sunrise in a teapot, afternoon in a Tupperware container... whatever. How and when doesn't matter. But if you could bring me a little of that sunlight, somehow, I'm pretty sure you don't know just how grateful I would be.
One of the many unfunny ironies about the whole vampire thing is that I wasn't even a day person when I was human. It's not like I was the kind of person who adored being out-of-doors, basking in the sunlight while riding my horse or hiking over the hills. Pretty much from the age of fifteen, I didn't roll out of bed before noon if I could help it. Sunlight usually meant headaches and hangovers. Sometimes it meant whatever backbreaking labor my father could devise for me to do as his idea of penance for whatever sins I'd committed the night before.
No, I was a night person. Drinking, carousing, wenching-- and man, that's a word that just doesn't get used enough anymore-- those were nighttime activities. Things that would take you into the wee hours, and you'd never notice until that damned sun started peeping over the horizon.
Of course, there's that thing about the grass and being green.
I've managed to get a look at the sun a couple of times in the last few years, and let me tell you, after two hundred forty years of being denied it, I doubt there could be many things more beautiful.
Bright, blazing sunlight out of a pure blue sky, shining down on an endless stretch of Southern California beach. So worth it.
Angel
'Angel' the series
Word Count: 271