Francis Green | Faramir (ithilienranger) wrote in dunhavenic, @ 2019-03-25 22:26:00 |
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Francis couldn’t sleep. The fault lay with no one except him (and perhaps Faramir, whose memories were so shuttered and so difficult to glimpse that he found himself straining to see anything) and so to keep distractions at a minimum for his fellows, he tiptoed to the bathroom with his tablet in hand. There, he stepped into the tub and stretched his legs out in front of him, intending to spend time with some Philosophy reading that would surely make his eyelids heavy. But intention be damned, he found himself with an email tab open. He gainfully considered what he wished to say and to whom … TO: ksilva@dunhaven.edu It seemed the good work of putting words to screen had done their duty. Francis awoke with his tablet out of power, a good puddle of drool on his shirt and a crick in his neck. He sat up abruptly, coming to terms with where he he had slept. As he came to full consciousness, the images in his dreams flickered in his mind. A coursing river with a longboat, a golden ring in a pale hand, golden coils of hair juxtaposed against a starry cloak, a roaring blaze warming his face, cries from the air ... He stood abruptly and took a tumble, every bit of him bursting through the bathroom door and into the bedroom. " ... uh, uh ... uh hi. Good morning!" |