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Child of the Sun and drabbles
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baranduin has made a fantastic collection of Mary Renault book covers - nearly a 100 of them. I particularly like the cheesy 70s Popular Library one that makes Fire From Heaven look like something by Lance Horner. Talking of whom, do any of you remember a book called Child of the Sun, by him and Kyle Onstott? It was about Heliogabalus and his hunky, bronzed lover. It was probably terrible, but I have fond memories of reading it about the age of 10 and being amazed that it had men kissing and having sex. In one memorable scene Antoninus, having fallen desperately in love, sits next to his unconcious, bed-ridden amour and cannot resist pulling back the sheet to check the size of his penis. He's relieved that it's an healthy specimen. After that touching scene, I cannot recall a thing except that it had a tragic ending.
I recently finished the snippet meme that began in, er, April, so now roll on the next one! I meant to do this ages ago, like everything else. I want your drabbles.
Leave me a drabble. It can be about anyone -- one of your characters, one of mine, someone else's, no-one's. Anyone. Then I'll write one for you.
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*
Crowley'd never thought to see him again, not even after the crash and the sirens. Not standing there, black robe and all. He considered pleading, sweet-talking, fighting, discarded the lot, and just felt very futile.
And thought he understood death when blue-on-void eyes moved past him, to the prone shapes lying on the pavement.
"No!" He had moved before knowing why, shielding the frayed tweed suit and the charred remains of a book.
Death sidestepped him and picked up something small and wavering from behind Aziraphale, who was opening his eyes fuzzily, then gave him a long look.
ALMOST HUMAN.
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Outside in the frozen blue the jet engines were glowing red: they screamed, tearing the air apart. The stewardess smiled at him, staggering with exhaustion. The soft chink of ice in his glass spoke of luxury and comfort, things he valued.
A brilliant orange sunset spilled over new expanses of desert, seas higher and wider than ever. Shrinking pools of green forest blackened as the moon rose.
Eyes squeezed tight, Crowley wished hard for him to be waiting at the gate, a flower in his buttonhole.
Flying over the channel, the chalk downs and then into London. Aziraphale wasn't there.
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Thank you. :)