thejunipertree (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thejunipertree) wrote2003-01-22 01:43 pm
thejunipertree) wrote2003-01-22 01:43 pm
Entry tags:
[lwa dream]
The warm waters of the Mississippi lap like chocolate brown velvet at my bare feet. Sun on my skin, I've lifted my face to the sun with closed eyes and smiling mouth. It's been so long since I sat in Louisana. So long since I've felt this much at home.
I'm drowsing gently (how odd, to sleep in a dream), lulled to a peaceful serenity by the sounds of the seagulls crying to Heaven overhead and the quiet thumming of paddleboats in the distance.
A shadow falls across me, a sudden and slight chill taking away the epicurean cat-in-the-sun feeling I had been luxuriating in. I open my eyes, slowly and unwillingly, to see who the intruder is.
A tall man, a thin man. His face in deep shadow, with the fiery sun behind him. Long hair tied with a black ribbon, curling down his back like a shocking river of milk infused coffee.
His suit, though threadbare, seemed finely made and of an era that I have no personal knowledge of. Some time long in the past, but it tickled my brain and I was reminded of something that I couldn't quite remember.
He stood there, staring at me with no challenge. Just waiting for me to speak? Then it hit me, what I was reminded of. I began to close my eyes again, wanting to drift back into the warmth of my riverside nap."You look like an antique mortician. You're a tin type. Now leave my dreams alone and let me enjoy this."
The laughter that spiraled from his throat covered me in smoky sugar sweetness like caramel. "Oh, poppet. If you only knew." A soft Irish brouge? A Scottish burr? I couldn't decipher the homeland that birthed an accent like he had.
He crouched down close in front of me, all knees and angles. My eyes immediately sprang back open and I inched back surreptitiously. Even in dreams, I don't care to have my personal space invaded. Especially if they're a stranger.
This close to me, the sun didn't work quite so hard to hide his face in backlit shadows. Sharp angles, just like the rest of him. Sharp and pretty. Fine edged enough to cut oneself if they were to fling themselves against him.
A pretty stranger in a dream? I don't trust such things. And beauty doesn't do much to sway me to begin with. Not with the sights I've seen and the pain I've lived through that were caused by a beautiful face.
"Who are you?" I asked.
He smiled then. "You don't know me. Not yet, at any doing. However, I have the aquaintance of one of your patrons. Distant relatives, if you will. Her husband and I are in the same profession."
"And what do you want with me? I've enough patrons already, thank you."
He laughed again, reaching out to chuck me under my chin. I pulled away and glared at him. This man was making me feel like a child and that never went over well with my temperment.
He stood just then, probably sensing somehow that my temper was flaring. "It just may behoove you to learn that any patron is a good patron. You could have one or one thousand. They hold your heart, they watch your back. They lead you home when your light's gone out."
I felt small, chastened with his words. My arrogance can get the best of me at the very worst of times. He rose over me, an amused smile twisting its course across his face. Rising, rising, now blotting out the sun, now blotting out the sky. The world disappeared and my mind swam dizzly through a chilled depth I'd never felt in my entire life.
Cold and still, an icy blanket to wrap around my form. This was the silence of the deepest parts of the ocean, where the blind idiot fish are gods. This was the hush of six feet of earth over your head. This was the quiet gloom of a grey mausoleum.
"Have no worries or fears, my dove. You've not angered me." His voice throbbed through my veins. He was everywhere around me and I couldn't shut him out. "In fact, you've done quite the opposite."
More laughter, amused and low. Nothing malevolent, but I couldn't handle this continual overtaking of my senses. Or rather, the deadening of them.
"We'll see each other soon. My promise."
He was suddenly gone and I was alone. The sun, back in the sky. The waters of the river now thrashing angrily against the pebble dotted bank. I stretched my arms and legs, flexing the life back into my fingers.
Oh, Baron. I thought to myself. Who have you sent to me this time?
I'm drowsing gently (how odd, to sleep in a dream), lulled to a peaceful serenity by the sounds of the seagulls crying to Heaven overhead and the quiet thumming of paddleboats in the distance.
A shadow falls across me, a sudden and slight chill taking away the epicurean cat-in-the-sun feeling I had been luxuriating in. I open my eyes, slowly and unwillingly, to see who the intruder is.
A tall man, a thin man. His face in deep shadow, with the fiery sun behind him. Long hair tied with a black ribbon, curling down his back like a shocking river of milk infused coffee.
His suit, though threadbare, seemed finely made and of an era that I have no personal knowledge of. Some time long in the past, but it tickled my brain and I was reminded of something that I couldn't quite remember.
He stood there, staring at me with no challenge. Just waiting for me to speak? Then it hit me, what I was reminded of. I began to close my eyes again, wanting to drift back into the warmth of my riverside nap."You look like an antique mortician. You're a tin type. Now leave my dreams alone and let me enjoy this."
The laughter that spiraled from his throat covered me in smoky sugar sweetness like caramel. "Oh, poppet. If you only knew." A soft Irish brouge? A Scottish burr? I couldn't decipher the homeland that birthed an accent like he had.
He crouched down close in front of me, all knees and angles. My eyes immediately sprang back open and I inched back surreptitiously. Even in dreams, I don't care to have my personal space invaded. Especially if they're a stranger.
This close to me, the sun didn't work quite so hard to hide his face in backlit shadows. Sharp angles, just like the rest of him. Sharp and pretty. Fine edged enough to cut oneself if they were to fling themselves against him.
A pretty stranger in a dream? I don't trust such things. And beauty doesn't do much to sway me to begin with. Not with the sights I've seen and the pain I've lived through that were caused by a beautiful face.
"Who are you?" I asked.
He smiled then. "You don't know me. Not yet, at any doing. However, I have the aquaintance of one of your patrons. Distant relatives, if you will. Her husband and I are in the same profession."
"And what do you want with me? I've enough patrons already, thank you."
He laughed again, reaching out to chuck me under my chin. I pulled away and glared at him. This man was making me feel like a child and that never went over well with my temperment.
He stood just then, probably sensing somehow that my temper was flaring. "It just may behoove you to learn that any patron is a good patron. You could have one or one thousand. They hold your heart, they watch your back. They lead you home when your light's gone out."
I felt small, chastened with his words. My arrogance can get the best of me at the very worst of times. He rose over me, an amused smile twisting its course across his face. Rising, rising, now blotting out the sun, now blotting out the sky. The world disappeared and my mind swam dizzly through a chilled depth I'd never felt in my entire life.
Cold and still, an icy blanket to wrap around my form. This was the silence of the deepest parts of the ocean, where the blind idiot fish are gods. This was the hush of six feet of earth over your head. This was the quiet gloom of a grey mausoleum.
"Have no worries or fears, my dove. You've not angered me." His voice throbbed through my veins. He was everywhere around me and I couldn't shut him out. "In fact, you've done quite the opposite."
More laughter, amused and low. Nothing malevolent, but I couldn't handle this continual overtaking of my senses. Or rather, the deadening of them.
"We'll see each other soon. My promise."
He was suddenly gone and I was alone. The sun, back in the sky. The waters of the river now thrashing angrily against the pebble dotted bank. I stretched my arms and legs, flexing the life back into my fingers.
Oh, Baron. I thought to myself. Who have you sent to me this time?