Today is an exercise in how much work I can do on my projects now that I have the space to think about it.
Anything crossed out I have already done, but I have plans to:
Do my monthly drive to boost the compendium/find more content.
Do general server maintenance for SEAFLOOR.
Update the Compendium (especially with the resources mentioned in the discord, thanks guys!)
Finally get to my single-word prompt and question drive.
Think about anything else I might want to do/tackle.
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Random at work
Oh, yay, I can see what I’m typing now.
Anyway, random scene during break at work. Not proofed and rough as hell. And yeah, I’m mean.
-o-o-o-
A hand brushed his forehead and drew damp hair out of his eyes.
“Virgil.”
He knew he had to open his eyes but he was ever so tired.
“Virgil? C’mon, big bro, I need you for this.”
The ‘big bro’ rattled down his spine and triggered long worked reflexes. His eyes shot open to find Gordon staring down at him. “Fish?”
“Heey, Virg, knew you couldn’t resist a big brother moment. How are you feeling?” Gordon was grinning, but there was a edge to his expression and worry in the wrinkles around his eyes.
When did Gordon get wrinkles?
The grin turned into a frown and his little brother reached out again, brushing fingers across Virgil’s cheek. “Virg? You with me?”
Umm…
Water was lapping somewhere, but all Virgil could see was a halo of blue sky around Gordon. His brother was in his uniform, eye scarring yellow on blue.
But there was a tear in that blue material…with red staining…
“Whoa! Virg stay still!” Strong hands grabbed him, and it was just as well as the world was anything but still, swimming drunkenly around his head.
Oh, god, his head…
He curled into a ball, holding his head between his arms. Ow and urgh and…his stomach lurched. His groan vibrated his teeth.
“Okay, you’re going to sit here and you’re not going to move, you hear me?” Gordon had shoved himself between Virgil and whatever hard surface was beneath them.
“You’re…” A cough that was almost solid. “…injured.”
“Aww, hell, Virg, I’m fine.” That hand had returned to stroking his hair. He focussed on the movement, desperate to calm his stomach. “It was you who did the heroics this time.”
Virgil’s eyes were still screwed shut. He tried to remember what the hell had led up to this moment, but came up completely blank.
Panic did not help his stomach at all.
“Virgil, calm down. I can’t believe I have to say that to you.” The hand in his hair was rhythmic, almost hypnotic. “Take a breath. We’re fine. I’m fine. You’ve seen better days, but Scott’s on his way. We’re fine.”
The mention of their big brother was the key to everything. Scott was coming. Scott would know what to do. Scott would look after Gordy.
Scott…
“Virgil?”
God, his head hurt.
“Virgil? No passing out on me. You’ve done your quota for the day.”
“Gords?”
“Oh, thank god. You stay with me, you hear? We’ll be out of here in no time. Scott’s breaking speed records as we speak.
Scott was always breaking speed records. He never listened. Always had to go faster…
“Where are we?”
“North Pacific.”
“Why?”
“Landslide.”
It was obvious Gordon wasn’t willing to give him any further detail. Why was the next question, but he had used up what little energy he had just asking those few.
His world continued to move and it was only then he realised it wasn’t his head…though his head was far from appreciating it at all.
“Water?”
“We’re safe. Four’s inflatable. Scott will be here any minute. Rest, Virgil.”
Why?
That hand was in his hair.
Hypnotic.
Scott was coming.
Coming.
-o-o-o-
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Paulo Coelho: Killing our dreams
Image by Will Lion via Flickr
“The first symptom of the process of our killing our
dreams is the lack of time. The busiest people I have known in my life
always have time enough to do everything. Those who do nothing are
always tired and pay no attention to the little amount of work they are
required to do.”
—Paulo Coelho.
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