One word drabbles
Jun. 21st, 2011 06:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mogwai_doSo, for lferion her one sentence drabbles featuring Methos :)
W Drabbles for Lferion
Copyright Margaret Turner
17th June 2011
Wrinkle
Time meant little to an Immortal, even less to one who had lived as long as he; hours, days, years, even centuries passed without note, except for those few brief times when he loved and was beloved, then it passed so terribly quickly, marked by each wrinkle on his loved one's skin.
Wonder
It was a Pacific island of little note, the beach grey and empty in the pre-dawn light, but as the sea breeze curled around him and he watched the sun come up over a turquoise sea, Methos still felt the wonder of it, even after all these years.
Words
He carried a small armoury with him wherever he went, guns, knives, sword; he kept even more in the places he called home, but Methos' first and last weapon of choice would always be words.
Wildebeest
Methos watched the herd stampede across the veldt, watched the big cats work together isolating the weak ones and bringing them down in a welter of blood and violence; he glanced over at Kronos, stringing the captured slaves together as they cowered from him - a thousand years in and nothing changed.
Wings
Methos watched the landscape slide by beneath him until the clouds blocked it from view, even then he continued to look out across the new landscape of fluffy white and wispy grey, and watched the ice collect at the edges of the window - 5,000 years to get this far, this close to the oldest of man's dreams, what might another five bring?
FIN
Comments welcome
lferion her one sentence drabbles featuring Methos :)W Drabbles for Lferion
Copyright Margaret Turner
17th June 2011
Wrinkle
Time meant little to an Immortal, even less to one who had lived as long as he; hours, days, years, even centuries passed without note, except for those few brief times when he loved and was beloved, then it passed so terribly quickly, marked by each wrinkle on his loved one's skin.
Wonder
It was a Pacific island of little note, the beach grey and empty in the pre-dawn light, but as the sea breeze curled around him and he watched the sun come up over a turquoise sea, Methos still felt the wonder of it, even after all these years.
Words
He carried a small armoury with him wherever he went, guns, knives, sword; he kept even more in the places he called home, but Methos' first and last weapon of choice would always be words.
Wildebeest
Methos watched the herd stampede across the veldt, watched the big cats work together isolating the weak ones and bringing them down in a welter of blood and violence; he glanced over at Kronos, stringing the captured slaves together as they cowered from him - a thousand years in and nothing changed.
Wings
Methos watched the landscape slide by beneath him until the clouds blocked it from view, even then he continued to look out across the new landscape of fluffy white and wispy grey, and watched the ice collect at the edges of the window - 5,000 years to get this far, this close to the oldest of man's dreams, what might another five bring?
FIN
Comments welcome
(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-21 08:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2011-06-21 09:02 pm (UTC)