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Sep. 12th, 2005 02:44 pmThe sun is right overhead when he returns to the scene of his drop. He knows there will be no door. If the doors in the hotel won't comply to Tim's magic, then why would a that particular cube of sky do the same for Jonathan.
Nothing.
Just as he thought there would be.
You can't give up hope, he tries to tell himself as he turns his back on that location for the second time. Traffic is lighter, and there are no cute girls to force him to smile, so this time he merely walks.
Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. Left foot.
Forsaking the sky for its traitorous ways, he keeps his eyes low watching only the ground as it rolls beneath is feet. Sooner or later there will be signs. Signs will lead to truck stops. Truck stops to truck tops. Silent transport from the South to the North to the docks and train yards that bring goods from all over into the city.
And from there? From there hope will spring eternal. Yeah, that's how this goes. That's it exactly. He'll return to the bar, where any amount of time could have passed, and she'll be there. She'll smile roll her eyes and tell him that he was an idiot to worry. And then the sky is the limit.
The Sky that doesn't seem to move as you whip down the interstate on a speeding tractor trailer truck. Covering more ground in two and a half hours than could be covered in a day-long sprint. The air goes from metallic to putrid, and he knows he's home. Moving noiselessly from his perch he makes his way from above to below. Storm drains are faster, and speed is key.
She's waiting. She is. He can feel it. He knows. She's there in the rafters. Maybe out by the Lake. In his room or hers. It doesn't matter where, he'll find her.
So focused is Mike that he doesn't see the twitch of a nose or flick of a tail that turns from flesh into shadow. So soon they forget that they are not the only ones that know this land. So quick are they to dismiss their surroundings for some prize at the end of a maze. Before disappearing totally, there is a silent chuckle about knowing a thing or two of mazes.
The door to the bar swings open. Eyes scan the crowd. No Mel.
Mike takes to the Lake. One lap around...still no Mel.
Her room next. Surely she must be there, and yet, no Mel.
His room....of course! Why is it always the last place you look?
But...no...she has to be there. Has to.
His gear falls to the floor in a heap, metal clatters and goes still. Stampy comes out from Uncle Indy's room to investigate, and bounds over to Daddy when she sees him. Mike picks her up, absently scratching behind her ears as he does so. The room isn't right. Not right at all. Still carrying Stampy, he takes a pillow from the right side of the bed, and heads to the only place he could possibly go.
Nothing.
Just as he thought there would be.
You can't give up hope, he tries to tell himself as he turns his back on that location for the second time. Traffic is lighter, and there are no cute girls to force him to smile, so this time he merely walks.
Right foot. Left foot. Right foot. Left foot.
Forsaking the sky for its traitorous ways, he keeps his eyes low watching only the ground as it rolls beneath is feet. Sooner or later there will be signs. Signs will lead to truck stops. Truck stops to truck tops. Silent transport from the South to the North to the docks and train yards that bring goods from all over into the city.
And from there? From there hope will spring eternal. Yeah, that's how this goes. That's it exactly. He'll return to the bar, where any amount of time could have passed, and she'll be there. She'll smile roll her eyes and tell him that he was an idiot to worry. And then the sky is the limit.
The Sky that doesn't seem to move as you whip down the interstate on a speeding tractor trailer truck. Covering more ground in two and a half hours than could be covered in a day-long sprint. The air goes from metallic to putrid, and he knows he's home. Moving noiselessly from his perch he makes his way from above to below. Storm drains are faster, and speed is key.
She's waiting. She is. He can feel it. He knows. She's there in the rafters. Maybe out by the Lake. In his room or hers. It doesn't matter where, he'll find her.
So focused is Mike that he doesn't see the twitch of a nose or flick of a tail that turns from flesh into shadow. So soon they forget that they are not the only ones that know this land. So quick are they to dismiss their surroundings for some prize at the end of a maze. Before disappearing totally, there is a silent chuckle about knowing a thing or two of mazes.
The door to the bar swings open. Eyes scan the crowd. No Mel.
Mike takes to the Lake. One lap around...still no Mel.
Her room next. Surely she must be there, and yet, no Mel.
His room....of course! Why is it always the last place you look?
But...no...she has to be there. Has to.
His gear falls to the floor in a heap, metal clatters and goes still. Stampy comes out from Uncle Indy's room to investigate, and bounds over to Daddy when she sees him. Mike picks her up, absently scratching behind her ears as he does so. The room isn't right. Not right at all. Still carrying Stampy, he takes a pillow from the right side of the bed, and heads to the only place he could possibly go.
