ficlet *Cat
Feb. 17th, 2006 02:15 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sparklebutchRupert is in a chilly and grey mood. The birds are calling all around, hoarse squawks in the salty wind. What's he doing here, at sea, at dawn, so early that a sliver of a moon can still be seen in the distance. He shivers and wraps himself tighter in the black wool of his coat.
There is no priest. No words are said. Just a very quiet small group of people, one sombre captain, and the simple wooden urn. No celebration of a life nor pronounced grief mar the silence. He can spot some soundless tears, and he knows everyone here is hurting, but no one says a word. The widow takes the urn, holds onto it. Her fingers are white, like her face. She closes her eyes, lips moving silently. Perhaps it's a blessing, or a protection spell. Maybe just a goodbye.
Ashes spill into the wind, into the ocean. Rupert shuts his eyes.
New art & wallpaper
There is no priest. No words are said. Just a very quiet small group of people, one sombre captain, and the simple wooden urn. No celebration of a life nor pronounced grief mar the silence. He can spot some soundless tears, and he knows everyone here is hurting, but no one says a word. The widow takes the urn, holds onto it. Her fingers are white, like her face. She closes her eyes, lips moving silently. Perhaps it's a blessing, or a protection spell. Maybe just a goodbye.
Ashes spill into the wind, into the ocean. Rupert shuts his eyes.
New art & wallpaper
