Musings on the mountain...

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There is no Shinobi/Sarah V-day log of doom. Instead, you get musings and a poem from the Morlock poet. Don't sound too disappointed.



Damn it’s cold.

If it was possible, Sarah would have curled up more inside Shinobi’s coat, but as it was she already had both her arms pulled inside it, and her head as far down into the collar as she could manage. The price one pays for getting one’s stressed boyfriend out of the mansion? Freezing your ass off on top of a fucking mountain.

He wasn’t around at the moment, probably off taking pictures or something. Maybe he was trying to snowboard. Either way, he was off somewhere far higher than she was willing to go. Mountains? Fuck, what had she been thinking?

She pulled a cigarette out of the coat pocket, lit it, and brought it up to her lips, freeing her hands to do other things. Like scribbling in the notebook sitting on her lap. It’s so fucking sappy, but all the images coming to her are light and sunshine and brilliant smiles. Hell, at this rate she’d be going to kareoke bars and singing “You light up my life” before the month was out.

With a sigh, she leans her head against the wall behind her, scratching and scribbling and occasionally brushing a stray snowflake off of the page. The ink smeared, and she cursed. Guess she was copying this over after all. She reread the words on the page. Yes. His smile. Her sun. The best thing that ever happened to her.

Thank you.

She wrote the words, tearing the page out of the notebook and running inside to leave the paper under his camera bag. He’d need a new memory card soon enough.

In the meantime, she needed another cigarette.





The sun in a Smile,
a perfect grin around a cigarette
blushing color,
drawing me close.

It seems
no matter how long I clung
to my own shadows,
comfort would find me in a shining smile.

Thank you.