Re: Dream Log: Jude/Clem
Problem with thinking like that, is that if the rest of the family don't agree, then you're the one left dying. [It was a hard practicality, one that had no place in dreaming. The kind of thing that you remembered after, because it was out of place. But it was plenty true. Jude felt a certain way about things, but she wasn't sure everyone else agreed. She thought, sure as she was standing in a field of red and green and dead, that Alex and Chloe were out there somewhere. But they hadn't contacted him, and what did that say? Or maybe they had, and he hadn't seen fit to tell her. She wouldn't hold that against him if it were so, but she didn't see that kind of knowing in his eyes when she looked on him.]
Only reason I'm in one piece is Graham thinks he owes it to Lorelei. [There it was. Plain as day. She didn't think he was keeping her breathing on her own account. It was her sister he was doing it for, dead as a doornail and more than a dozen years in a grave.] He still loves her like breathing. Would you love me that long if I was dead? [She asked it flirty, southern belle and she belonged on some porch somewhere in a real fine dress. But then their daddy was there, and she edged away from Jude and toward the old and important-looking man without being told.
She wanted to return, to run on back to where Jude was, zombies just a foot away from his shoulders, but she couldn't do it. He'd been raised to do something, and she'd been raised to do something different, and you didn't need belting to make children learn to do what you thought they ought.
Her dream-father put his arm round her shoulders, and he turned her away from Jude. She looked back, reluctant in her little girl dress, and all she could see was dying. Rows and rows of the things that lived beyond the prison fences, and all of them come for him.
She screamed loud as could be, and the dream disintegrated.]