Room 311, Friday Morning

Cally was lying on her back and juggling apples with her feet, so fast that all she could see was a shiny red blur in the air above the foot of her bed. How she was managing to do that and where she'd even got the apples seemed less important at the moment than pointing the accomplishment out. Loudly.

//Zelda, look! I told you I'd learn it!//
//You're too far away - I can't see. Learn what?
//How to keep everything up in the air...//
// I can't hear you-- Cally?//

Thud thud THUD, and they all fell down.

//Zelda?//

But there wasn't any answer when Cally sat up in bed, the covers tangled up around her toes.

Though the dream brought a familiar disappointment surging bitterly to the surface, the silence wasn't unusual, not anymore. What was odd was the way she felt compelled to kick away the blanket, slide out of bed, and walk over to the window to gaze up in some vague skyward direction as if she really could point the way home. Also to open her mouth, though there was no one here to talk to but the dog, and start -- oh.

( That wasn't talking. )

Cally would have a hard time coming up with a scientific explanation for that. If she were bothering to try, instead of just staring blankly (and perhaps a little bit damply) out the window.

[Open. Emo, but open.]

[Linkdrop] 11/5 to 12/31 2010

( Yes, and it's contagious, isn't it. )