rushthatspeaks (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rushthatspeaks) wrote2005-05-06 06:33 pm
rushthatspeaks) wrote2005-05-06 06:33 pm
Entry tags:
Drabble for Homasse
Well, double-drabble, actually. I'm going to do all the ones on the list (and more if people request them), but not in the request order and interspersed with other entries so the non-fanfic readers won't get screamingly bored.
Purchase
“I hear that you sell love and dreams.”
The shop door had not opened when he came in. The incense that coiled and eddied around the doorframes and screens maintained a careful distance from the perfection of his robes.
The shop’s proprietor was mashing something small and bloody into a hopper set into the wall. Peculiar whispers were insinuating themselves through the soundproofing.
Eyes met briefly. “You, sir, do not need to buy the quality of dream we have on display.”
“I was,” the magician replied, “thinking more along the lines of love.”
There was a silver flash through the wall slit, a shudder of wings in the gloaming, and the unsteady whispering ceased. Unconcerned, the proprietor raised a fingertip and let white grace brush it.
“Love is inconstant. We will sell you constancy. Love is disloyal. We will sell you loyalty.”
“And the price?”
“We ask only that you never speak a word of truth to it.”
The magician spread his own palm, and cupped what landed in it, at one and the same time tracing an antenna and taking a pale hand. “It is very beautiful. And the species?”
“It is,” the Count said softly, “a luna moth.”
Purchase
“I hear that you sell love and dreams.”
The shop door had not opened when he came in. The incense that coiled and eddied around the doorframes and screens maintained a careful distance from the perfection of his robes.
The shop’s proprietor was mashing something small and bloody into a hopper set into the wall. Peculiar whispers were insinuating themselves through the soundproofing.
Eyes met briefly. “You, sir, do not need to buy the quality of dream we have on display.”
“I was,” the magician replied, “thinking more along the lines of love.”
There was a silver flash through the wall slit, a shudder of wings in the gloaming, and the unsteady whispering ceased. Unconcerned, the proprietor raised a fingertip and let white grace brush it.
“Love is inconstant. We will sell you constancy. Love is disloyal. We will sell you loyalty.”
“And the price?”
“We ask only that you never speak a word of truth to it.”
The magician spread his own palm, and cupped what landed in it, at one and the same time tracing an antenna and taking a pale hand. “It is very beautiful. And the species?”
“It is,” the Count said softly, “a luna moth.”