apple spyder obama, from a womb with cat disease (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} a_chr0i) wrote,@ 2009-10-14 16:07:00 |
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i'm having so much trouble tagging my logs, i have serious fucking writer's block so i will force myself to write this drabble. and it will make mike happy.
Benjy was 18 years old. Benjy was 18 years old, and carrying flowers. Benjy was 18 years old, carrying flowers, and they were for another man. And, they were purple. The flowers were, he would like everyone and no one to know, Mary's idea.
The entire situation made Benjy incredibly uncomfortable, but he apparated, arrived, and spotted his friend, waiting quietly just behind a tree. He stood before Thad for a few moments, scratching absently at the back of his neck, the flowers (purple) hanging at his side.
"...So hi. 'S been a while, yeah? I've got some stuff to say, I guess." There was a long pause, punctuated by more scratching. "I- Well Mary's up the duff. By me." he clarified, as if his best friend would think otherwise, as if Mary MacDonald, beacon of virtue, sweetness, and honor, would be up the duff out of wedlock by anyone else. "So I proposed. That's the biggest news, at any rate. I'm bloody proud, Potter was a right prat about it. He's all saying 'No way, mate, no way your pecker did anything of the sort.' So I said to him, I says 'BLOODY RIGHT IT DID I'VE ONE POWERFUL PECKER', an' I'm yellin' it right now because it was over the journals and I'd written it in capital letters, for effect."
A bird twittered in the tree, and brought Benjy back to where he really was. His cheeks flooded with colour, and he shifted the flowers awkwardly in his hand, train of thought gone. He scraped his mind for other things to tell Thad. "Falcons won the other night. I wasn't playing, it was still a fucking brill match, it would have been better with me, o'course but you can't tell Cap that, he says 'Ach, no, Fenwick'- he's a bloody mick, I'm not just talkin' like this for the fun of it. He says "Ach, no, Fenwick, you're second string and I've no reason to put you in this match, rest of the team is right as rain."- OH, an' I saw Boris soddin' Wimp down the pub Wednesday, and I'd put back a few, an' alright, I was bloody pissed as all hell so I poured a pint down his shirt and- fuck, this is naff."
Benjy interrupted himself, his voice slightly desperate and cracking with emotion (which he would like to deny, to anyone and no one). He looked away from his friend for a bit, unable to see him for what he was. There was a long pause, the longest since he had arrived at his friend's home. "Anyway, I brought these- Mary wanted me to, so don't get any ideas, you bloody arse bandit." he said, gesturing with the bouquet.
In one motion, Benjy crouched and placed the flowers on Thad's grave, with more gentleness, love and reverence than anyone who knew him would have ever expected. And now, with nothing left to do, he stood again. "See you, mate." he said quietly, turning and walking a few steps. "I'll be back soon. Tell you more about the baby when I know."
Crack!
Benjy was 18 years old. Benjy was 18 years old, and carrying flowers. Benjy was 18 years old, carrying flowers, and they were for another man. And, they were purple. The flowers were, he would like everyone and no one to know, Mary's idea.
The entire situation made Benjy incredibly uncomfortable, but he apparated, arrived, and spotted his friend, waiting quietly just behind a tree. He stood before Thad for a few moments, scratching absently at the back of his neck, the flowers (purple) hanging at his side.
"...So hi. 'S been a while, yeah? I've got some stuff to say, I guess." There was a long pause, punctuated by more scratching. "I- Well Mary's up the duff. By me." he clarified, as if his best friend would think otherwise, as if Mary MacDonald, beacon of virtue, sweetness, and honor, would be up the duff out of wedlock by anyone else. "So I proposed. That's the biggest news, at any rate. I'm bloody proud, Potter was a right prat about it. He's all saying 'No way, mate, no way your pecker did anything of the sort.' So I said to him, I says 'BLOODY RIGHT IT DID I'VE ONE POWERFUL PECKER', an' I'm yellin' it right now because it was over the journals and I'd written it in capital letters, for effect."
A bird twittered in the tree, and brought Benjy back to where he really was. His cheeks flooded with colour, and he shifted the flowers awkwardly in his hand, train of thought gone. He scraped his mind for other things to tell Thad. "Falcons won the other night. I wasn't playing, it was still a fucking brill match, it would have been better with me, o'course but you can't tell Cap that, he says 'Ach, no, Fenwick'- he's a bloody mick, I'm not just talkin' like this for the fun of it. He says "Ach, no, Fenwick, you're second string and I've no reason to put you in this match, rest of the team is right as rain."- OH, an' I saw Boris soddin' Wimp down the pub Wednesday, and I'd put back a few, an' alright, I was bloody pissed as all hell so I poured a pint down his shirt and- fuck, this is naff."
Benjy interrupted himself, his voice slightly desperate and cracking with emotion (which he would like to deny, to anyone and no one). He looked away from his friend for a bit, unable to see him for what he was. There was a long pause, the longest since he had arrived at his friend's home. "Anyway, I brought these- Mary wanted me to, so don't get any ideas, you bloody arse bandit." he said, gesturing with the bouquet.
In one motion, Benjy crouched and placed the flowers on Thad's grave, with more gentleness, love and reverence than anyone who knew him would have ever expected. And now, with nothing left to do, he stood again. "See you, mate." he said quietly, turning and walking a few steps. "I'll be back soon. Tell you more about the baby when I know."
Crack!