Title: In All the Gin Joints, In All the World
Author: charisstoma
Word count: 322
WIP
I wanted to write something, anything, and this is what happened.
Oh and my Mom is asking for food. Yea!
Life isn’t meant to be easy, he reminded himself, nor is it meant to be filled with happiness. You have to work for happiness, he’d found after the numerous times he stopped and waited for it to happen on its own. It was like love, another commodity he didn’t have because if he had to turn over rocks in the seeking then he wasn’t interested. Love should be a sparkle that takes light and burns.
“You do have to strike that spark,” his mind supplied.
“Sparkle,” he replied back, “it’s a sparkle that occurs in the mind and eye when someone meets you or reacts to what you’ve said or done.”
“Who are you talking to?” The face was somewhat disconcerted.
“No one really,” he smiled, “inner office conversation with my mind.”
An amused smile spread, “Do that often, talking to yourself? Am I in the presences of more than one person?”
He snorted, “Don’t think so but I’ll have to ask him.” More seriously, “It’s like playing chess against yourself.”
“Ah, that I understand.” There was a nod. “What was the topic?”
“Love. The finding of it.”
“Is that what you’re doing?”
“Maybe.” He screwed up his courage, “It’s supposed to just happen. Not …” he waved his hand around at their surroundings.
With a decisive clunk as the other man set his glass down on the bar, “How about we go someplace more quiet or more active then? Just to see if there’s a sparkle in need of encouraging blowing on,” he took Sam’s drink from him placing it on the counter beside his own and drew the man out onto the dance floor.
September 22nd was their anniversary and they met at Hannigan’s finding each other as if doing it all over again. Sam always ended up going home with Mac, no matter how the meeting turned out because the sparkle was still there and it burned brightly.
Author: charisstoma
Word count: 322
WIP
I wanted to write something, anything, and this is what happened.
Oh and my Mom is asking for food. Yea!
Life isn’t meant to be easy, he reminded himself, nor is it meant to be filled with happiness. You have to work for happiness, he’d found after the numerous times he stopped and waited for it to happen on its own. It was like love, another commodity he didn’t have because if he had to turn over rocks in the seeking then he wasn’t interested. Love should be a sparkle that takes light and burns.
“You do have to strike that spark,” his mind supplied.
“Sparkle,” he replied back, “it’s a sparkle that occurs in the mind and eye when someone meets you or reacts to what you’ve said or done.”
“Who are you talking to?” The face was somewhat disconcerted.
“No one really,” he smiled, “inner office conversation with my mind.”
An amused smile spread, “Do that often, talking to yourself? Am I in the presences of more than one person?”
He snorted, “Don’t think so but I’ll have to ask him.” More seriously, “It’s like playing chess against yourself.”
“Ah, that I understand.” There was a nod. “What was the topic?”
“Love. The finding of it.”
“Is that what you’re doing?”
“Maybe.” He screwed up his courage, “It’s supposed to just happen. Not …” he waved his hand around at their surroundings.
With a decisive clunk as the other man set his glass down on the bar, “How about we go someplace more quiet or more active then? Just to see if there’s a sparkle in need of encouraging blowing on,” he took Sam’s drink from him placing it on the counter beside his own and drew the man out onto the dance floor.
September 22nd was their anniversary and they met at Hannigan’s finding each other as if doing it all over again. Sam always ended up going home with Mac, no matter how the meeting turned out because the sparkle was still there and it burned brightly.
no subject
Date: 2013-09-22 05:30 pm (UTC)Good news about your mum, only now seeing your posts, sorry you've had all the worry and that she's felt so low :(
*HUGS*
no subject
Date: 2013-09-22 06:00 pm (UTC)Cute. Now if it had been zombies, it could have been brilliant. *snickering* I am *snickering*
My Mom was a premie back in the age of premies didn't make it very often. She could wear my grandfather's wedding ring as a bracelet and used his handkerchiefs as diapers (nappies). She's scrappy but she's mellowed the last 10 years.
Thank you. I'd like to keep her around for a few more years.
*HUGS*
no subject
Date: 2013-09-23 05:48 pm (UTC)That talking to himself has possibilities...
That is tiny, she must be one hell of a fighter.
*hugs*
no subject
Date: 2013-09-23 02:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-09-23 05:23 am (UTC)Thank you.