knittingknots (knittingknots) wrote,
knittingknots
knittingknots

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Another day, another cup of coffee...

Brain must be functioning.  I managed to write a drabble this morning for the Issekiwa topic, and it stayed within bounds, after doing a little editing.

For a long time in his life, the only touch that InuYasha had known was when someone tried to strike him or he struck another. Anger, fear hate.


His skin, his heart, his soul knew better. He remembered the soft warm acceptance of his mother's touch, and had hopeless longed for something like that for a long time And yet now that Kagome was a part of his life, with her sweet scent and amazing touch, the sensation paniced him. Afraid, he so often kept her at arm's length, worried that the magic of her acceptance would go away.


Yet how he hungered for it. He needed it. Without it, he would feel a pain so wide that it caused him to cry out sometimes. When she was gone, part of him worried about going back to that emptiness forever.


He sat by the Bone Eater's well, wallowing in that ache, sighing.


Suddenly, there was a flash of blue light. He looked down into the well, saw Kagome and her big yellow pack. He jumped in beside her, wrapped an arm around her waist, inwardly sighing as they touched.


"Oi, woman, what did you pack in your bag this time? It must weigh nearly as much as you!"


Smiling, she said, "Lots of ramen!"


He leaped out of the well with her still firmly in hand. Kagome was home. All was right with the world.

.


I like the concept, but I couldn't nuance it right, or be as descriptive as I like.  It goes into the revise later pile.  Been easier to do that with more meaning in a poem of the same words.  Amazing how much information you can pack in a poem.

Hubby has developed a cough from the smoke where he is working.  He comes home in 5 days.  Unless he extends.  With the cough he has, I suspect he'll want to come home, though.

The computer I was looking for must be in storage.  I can find an xt, a 286, a 386, a pentium 1 with windows 95 and a crashed hd (which I never got rid of cause all my love letters to hubby are on it),  but not my emachine which I cleaned all the garbage out of, boosted the ram, and was ready to make a word processing machine.  My closets are a museum of old computer technology....

Today, I promise myself no more photographic editing until I get a litter further along in my story, though....lets see if I can bribe myself....
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