Fic: The Flowing Dress (River)
May. 2nd, 2011 03:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xfirefly9xTitle: The Flowing Dress
Fandom: Firefly
Characters: River
Prompt: #06. Beginnings
Word Count: 186
Rating: G
Summary: The dress flows around her small figure as she twists and turns in elegant motions.
Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
writers30days. 10/04/11.
The dress flows around her small figure as she twists and turns in elegant motions. It swishes against her legs, the fabric soft and comforting. A reminder. She is alive. She is free. She is one with the world, and at the same time, she is one tiny barely noticeable glimmer of life that will soon be over.
She spins and the world spins and life goes on around her, other tiny glimmers of life and unlife and misery and happiness and something in between. All has pattern, a rhythm, a tessellating jigsaw that if positioned correctly will make a perfect shape and provide answers. The outline is already there; it just needs to be filled. Ordered. Given reason and structure.
It’s a bit like her. Disjointed. With a hole inside. Wrong. It should be whole, once was, but someone broke it, twisted it like she is twisting now, until it no longer fits together. But that’s just it. She ain’t quite right… but not all of her has to be.
She dances, smiles, moves, glides. The dress follows her form. She realises she’s all right.
Fandom: Firefly
Characters: River
Prompt: #06. Beginnings
Word Count: 186
Rating: G
Summary: The dress flows around her small figure as she twists and turns in elegant motions.
Notes: Written for
writers30days. 10/04/11.The dress flows around her small figure as she twists and turns in elegant motions. It swishes against her legs, the fabric soft and comforting. A reminder. She is alive. She is free. She is one with the world, and at the same time, she is one tiny barely noticeable glimmer of life that will soon be over.
She spins and the world spins and life goes on around her, other tiny glimmers of life and unlife and misery and happiness and something in between. All has pattern, a rhythm, a tessellating jigsaw that if positioned correctly will make a perfect shape and provide answers. The outline is already there; it just needs to be filled. Ordered. Given reason and structure.
It’s a bit like her. Disjointed. With a hole inside. Wrong. It should be whole, once was, but someone broke it, twisted it like she is twisting now, until it no longer fits together. But that’s just it. She ain’t quite right… but not all of her has to be.
She dances, smiles, moves, glides. The dress follows her form. She realises she’s all right.
