AN: I know you asked for prose, but I saw that line and this took over my brain. (Flash poetry go!) Hope someone does the prose, but until then, mayhap this will suffice?
John:
I don't often pay attention to people's personal writings, but the attached appeared in the journal of young Ms. Carpenter. In light of recent...sudden absences, perhaps you could have an eye kept on her? I'd consider it a personal favor.
- Ivy.
Spiro. One of the first words Harry taught me. The basis of life. The rhythm that controls My heart, My hands, My mind.
Spero. Another word. "Hope, Padawan," he said. "Love, Hope, or Fear." Tomorrow must be better. Otherwise, why breathe today?
Spiro. Today, at least. Another day, dad in that chair. Another day, Nelson locked away. Another day, Harry. Just gone.
Spero. Hope is a thing with talons. Black claws in white feathers. It grips the mind, lifting. Releasing. Dropping.
Spiro. Must I? In, then out. Up, then down. Over and over. It doesn't change. Nothing changes, just ends.
Spero. I must. No one else will. No one else can. It has to get better. It has to get easier. I will breathe today, until I drop, tomorrow.
Fill: found in Molly's journal...
Date: 2011-03-07 08:33 am (UTC)John:
I don't often pay attention to people's personal writings, but the attached appeared in the journal of young Ms. Carpenter. In light of recent...sudden absences, perhaps you could have an eye kept on her? I'd consider it a personal favor.
- Ivy.
Spiro.
One of the first words
Harry taught me.
The basis of life.
The rhythm that controls
My heart,
My hands,
My mind.
Spero.
Another word.
"Hope, Padawan,"
he said.
"Love,
Hope, or Fear."
Tomorrow must be better.
Otherwise, why breathe today?
Spiro.
Today, at least.
Another day,
dad in that chair.
Another day,
Nelson locked away.
Another day,
Harry. Just gone.
Spero.
Hope
is a thing
with talons.
Black claws in white feathers.
It grips the mind, lifting.
Releasing.
Dropping.
Spiro.
Must I?
In, then out.
Up, then down.
Over and over.
It doesn't change.
Nothing changes,
just ends.
Spero.
I must.
No one else will.
No one else can.
It has to get better.
It has to get easier.
I will breathe today,
until I drop, tomorrow.
Re: Fill: found in Molly's journal...
Date: 2011-03-07 01:30 pm (UTC)That was really good, and I generally hate poetry. Thank you.