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wellownedbkupTitle: Like a Sip of Sparkling Burgundy Brew
Prompt: mini_nanowrimo: The old moon is tarnished/with smoke of the flood/The dead leaves are varnished/with colour like blood. ~Sea Lullaby by Elinor Wylie
Verse: This Mortal Coil (NaNo 09), Apocrypha
Full moons generally find Sean O’Neill at The Fox Chase Inn, 3 pints in and desperately asking for another. He is a constant feature in the darkest corner, staring sightlessly at the walls and startling whenever someone brushes too close to him. He’s seldom sober these days, and no one has the heart to ask him to move on. They have to admit it, and they tell anyone who moves into the area to help in the rebuilding. Brighid McGinley was a beautiful girl and they were in love.
Sean keeps his head down, too afraid of what they would see in his bloodshot eyes if he chanced speaking to anyone face to face, afraid they’ll see the broken pieces of the man he has become. He hasn’t had the ability to be human for so long, choosing instead to see her tawny hair in the color of his ale, the lightness of her step in the way his head starts to spin after his fourth pint. He sees her smile in the crescent moon, and hears her sighs in the crash of waves against the rocky shore.
He remembers all too well when he fell in love with her. He’d known her for some time before the Taillten Fair, his sister Mor’s bosom companion from the nursery onwards. But even children grow. He can still see her now, twining her nimble fingers with his and pulling him in amongst the stalls at Lammas Eve. She teased him about not having enough of a smile, and had him tied to her apron strings until they reached the “wedding stall.”
He’d laughed softly at the thought of a trial wedding with her, this slip of a girl who had suffered through frogs under her covers and hair pulling at his childish hand. The weddings hadn’t been legal for ages; his mother couldn’t remember a time when it had been more than just a silly notion for lovers at the fair. And yet… he found himself at her side, hand teasingly pulling at a lock of hair that had fallen over her shoulder.
“My mother won’t mind. And my father tells me that he’s never seen anyone else like you.” She smiled sweetly.
In that moment, he stopped thinking and found his mouth moving along with the words of the keeper of the booth, handfasting to love each other as husband and wife for a year and a day. She’d laughed delightedly as the ceremony ended, stepping back and slipping out of his grasp. He had watched her move through the fair, eyes always glancing back to catch his, sharing in a private smile before she had blushed and turned away.
The keeper at the Fox Chase refills his pint, a hand falling gently on Sean’s shoulder before he moves off to care for his other patrons. He knows the story, same as anyone else in Skerries had before Sean had devoted himself to the drink. They’d taken her from him on the full moon, smoke and fire turning the sky blood red and burning his lungs as he’d cried out, searching for her.
Prompt: mini_nanowrimo: The old moon is tarnished/with smoke of the flood/The dead leaves are varnished/with colour like blood. ~Sea Lullaby by Elinor Wylie
Verse: This Mortal Coil (NaNo 09), Apocrypha
Full moons generally find Sean O’Neill at The Fox Chase Inn, 3 pints in and desperately asking for another. He is a constant feature in the darkest corner, staring sightlessly at the walls and startling whenever someone brushes too close to him. He’s seldom sober these days, and no one has the heart to ask him to move on. They have to admit it, and they tell anyone who moves into the area to help in the rebuilding. Brighid McGinley was a beautiful girl and they were in love.
Sean keeps his head down, too afraid of what they would see in his bloodshot eyes if he chanced speaking to anyone face to face, afraid they’ll see the broken pieces of the man he has become. He hasn’t had the ability to be human for so long, choosing instead to see her tawny hair in the color of his ale, the lightness of her step in the way his head starts to spin after his fourth pint. He sees her smile in the crescent moon, and hears her sighs in the crash of waves against the rocky shore.
He remembers all too well when he fell in love with her. He’d known her for some time before the Taillten Fair, his sister Mor’s bosom companion from the nursery onwards. But even children grow. He can still see her now, twining her nimble fingers with his and pulling him in amongst the stalls at Lammas Eve. She teased him about not having enough of a smile, and had him tied to her apron strings until they reached the “wedding stall.”
He’d laughed softly at the thought of a trial wedding with her, this slip of a girl who had suffered through frogs under her covers and hair pulling at his childish hand. The weddings hadn’t been legal for ages; his mother couldn’t remember a time when it had been more than just a silly notion for lovers at the fair. And yet… he found himself at her side, hand teasingly pulling at a lock of hair that had fallen over her shoulder.
“My mother won’t mind. And my father tells me that he’s never seen anyone else like you.” She smiled sweetly.
In that moment, he stopped thinking and found his mouth moving along with the words of the keeper of the booth, handfasting to love each other as husband and wife for a year and a day. She’d laughed delightedly as the ceremony ended, stepping back and slipping out of his grasp. He had watched her move through the fair, eyes always glancing back to catch his, sharing in a private smile before she had blushed and turned away.
The keeper at the Fox Chase refills his pint, a hand falling gently on Sean’s shoulder before he moves off to care for his other patrons. He knows the story, same as anyone else in Skerries had before Sean had devoted himself to the drink. They’d taken her from him on the full moon, smoke and fire turning the sky blood red and burning his lungs as he’d cried out, searching for her.
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Date: 2011-08-18 08:55 am (UTC)