OOM: Conversations with Dead People II

[herr_bookman]

Autor finds himself floating this evening. He flails in the air, thinking he's falling, though he doesn't feel that pull on his stomach. After a while, he surrenders to it, lying on his back and putting his feet up.

A chair with broken legs sits empty in front of him, and a lighted chessboard--his side oriented to white--hovers in the air. He gasps, recognizing the set, and executes a graceful turn in the air in an attempt to get away from the zombies that he knows are coming.

Comments

[herr_bookman]

"Wait, years?" Autor says, blinking most of his tears away. He draws back to look at her, floating around to her front to meet her eye. "I'm seeing your future?"

[souffle_girlek]

"My current, thank you very much. Not half bad if I do say so myself." She retorts, sniffing.

[herr_bookman]

Oh, he could kiss her. So he does, cradling her cheeks in his hands and pulling himself forward to lightly brush his lips against her forehead.

"Your current time, of course," the boy says, and removes his glasses to scrub at his eyes with his palms. "I'd love to try some soufflé. Do you have an extra fork?"

[souffle_girlek]

"Of course." She grins, digging through her belt. "Just a minute."

It'd help, of course, if the souffle was something more than part of Oswin's imagination. It fades as soon as her attention is pulled away from it.

[herr_bookman]

And the lemon scent--faint under hers--fades as well. "Well," Autor says, furrowing his brow. "It was nice while it lasted, Oswin. Good job baking it." If she actually did. "When you died... Did it hurt?"

[souffle_girlek]

"Of course it didn't - Daleks don't feel pain." Oswin ruffles his hair fondly. "They didn't think too hard about that problem when they converted me."

[herr_bookman]

Autor flails in the air, which forces him to float backwards a bit. "Oswin! That's - Augh!" he says, breathing unsteadily.

The boy can't start crying again--and over such a small thing, too, or so he thinks--so he bites his lip. He swims toward her again, and embraces her. "Thank you for coming to visit me."

[souffle_girlek]

"Well, I figured you'd rather chat with me than some of the other folks around here." She smirks. "At least I'm pretty."

[herr_bookman]

Autor smiles at that. "Yes, you are," he says, shaking his head. He holds his hands out. "Dance with me?"

[souffle_girlek]

"Can't." She gives him a look, like he's being particularly slow. "Don't have legs."

[herr_bookman]

He feels particularly slow. The boy furrows his brow. "What? What are you talking about?" he says, folding his arms. Autor glances down. "Of course you have legs. They're right there. See?"

[souffle_girlek]

"I do, but as someone once told me - they're just a lie I'm telling myself." She explains, patiently.

[herr_bookman]

"Oswin," Autor says, soft and unsure. He floats to her again and wraps her up in his embrace, smelling the sharp tang of metal.

Is it just him, or is her skin hard and cool? He wants to believe the lie, wants to smell rose oil and cloves, wants to listen for a heartbeat--which he can't hear.

He's parched, so he draws a breath through his nose. "I still love you. No matter what form you take."

[souffle_girlek]

There's a clank, metal on metal, and the rattle of heavy chains.

AND. I. LOVE YOU. AU-TOR.

Someone had taken the time to strip the rose that's now in his hands of all its thorns.

[herr_bookman]

And he's left gasping when she disappears, only to roll out of bed and wake when he hits the floor.