BLUE SUN ROOM FAN FICTION - GENERAL

AGENTRUSCO

Memories of Snow
Saturday, May 12, 2007

I never state the name, but it's an easy guess. It came to me after watching The Message. He talks about the dreams he had of his parents.


CATEGORY: FICTION    TIMES READ: 1567    RATING: 9    SERIES: FIREFLY

The snow. Always with the snow. There was a time when he liked it. Liked the cold kisses it gave his cheeks as it fell. Liked the sound it made underfoot. Liked the way it packed perfectly to lob at Dad.

His hands were cold, but that didn't stop him from scooping up handfuls of snow. Dad was throwing back with a big grin. A puff of powder splashed across Dad's shoulder. A hit! Then, he found his face enveloped in the cold substance.

Mom was laughing. It was the best sound in the world. Like icicles melting in the afternoon sun.

Dad's coat was warm. He snuggled deeper into its folds, eluding the bite of the storm. Dad held him, buttoned close to his chest. He could feel Dad's warm breath on the top of his head.

He entered the house and instantly smelled it. Mom was baking bread. His mouth began to water with anticipation.

The fire crackled merrily. He sat cross legged before it, fluffing Mom's quilt around his thin shoulders. He reached for the mug of hot tea to warm his fingers and his insides.

He trudged next to Dad through the wet, heavy snow. He was thoroughly miserable. His socks were soggy through his ragged boots and he couldn't even feel his toes. The sun was beginning to set and it glinted off the snow. With the growing shadows came a growing cold.

Dad groaned and straightened. He shifted his shovel from one hand to the other and looked into the gloomy sky. His breath came in fluffy white puffs. His cheeks and nose were rosy, the only color in the grey day.

They stood on the steps, smothered in wools. Mom had tears at the corners of her eyes. She tried to smile, her lips curving in a pitiful imitation. Dad's eyes were bright with anger, his knuckles white from clenching his hands together.

That was when he left St. Alba. Left to fight the government that thought it could dictate people's lives. He went to fight for his parents. But they didn't understand. So long ago...

It hurt. A pain wrenched his chest and he jerked his eyes open. A strange man with a sharp tool stood over him. It seemed like a pretty good idea to attack the man.

COMMENTS

Saturday, May 12, 2007 9:06 AM

AMDOBELL


Interesting and nice use of language. Ali D :~)
You can't take the sky from me

Saturday, May 12, 2007 12:28 PM

BLUEEYEDBRIGADIER


Oh yeah...definitely some quality work here, AgentRusco. Really have to give you props for showing us what Tracey was dreaming about while drugged and in the coffin. Though it would have been kind of cool to have seen the final part extended to the point where Tracey realized he's naked...and Mal's sitting on him;)

BEB

Saturday, May 12, 2007 7:37 PM

AGENTRUSCO


trust me... I considered it.


POST YOUR COMMENTS

You must log in to post comments.

YOUR OPTIONS

OTHER FANFICS BY AUTHOR

Memories of Snow
I never state the name, but it's an easy guess. It came to me after watching The Message. He talks about the dreams he had of his parents.

Momentum Chapter Three
Long-awaited continuation of a (still) unfinished tale. Wash centric. Read the first two chapters here: http://www.fireflyfans.net/bluesun.aspx?bid=10333 and here: http://www.fireflyfans.net/bluesun.aspx?bid=10354

Artist
A really short ficlet. Jayne's POV. (I'm writing again! Actually, I've just typed up some things I wrote during class last semester. I've a few more at http://www.fanfiction.net/u/652052/)

Betrayal
Mal's thoughts at Serenity Valley. Who's he most angry at, the Alliance or the Independents?

Smell
Inara reflects on the smell of Mal's browncoat. Very short, possibly will be continued.

Rocket
Wash-sadness. Zoe POV. I can't let the deathfic go.

Stranger
Watched the BDM. Got ideas. Wrote for the first time in a god bit. Mal, River, during the BDM.

Trip Wire
I watched the BDM today. This is a scene from it. Zoe's pov, dialogue from the script.

Stream
Yay! I wrote again. First in a long time. I think I wrote this from Kaylee's perspective, at least in Kaylee vernacular, but I'm not really sure why. I know it's short and prolly not very Kaylee, but I wrote. I also don't really know what it's about. Comment as you like.

The Chair (round 2)
Conpanion piece to my last post. Rive stream of consciousness. More post BDM Wash missing.