High Tide, Nightmare
Aug. 29th, 2010 07:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
measured_words(A couple of drabbles written for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
inception100...)
High Tide
Notes: based on my memories of trips to the Bay of Fundy, where careless people really can drown when they aren't paying attention to the incoming tides. Open to suggestions for a better title.
Mud and little pools of water stretch as far as he can see; slimy, warty seaweed covers the rocks. They were talking about accounts, clients, secrets. Progress. But this is not the beach he designed.
She smiles. “The tides rise fast here. People get stranded on sandbars just like this one and drown.” She plucks a small snail from a tide pool. “I love periwinkles. I used to imagine you could find some secret to the universe if you could understand how their shells formed so perfectly.” She looks at him as the waters rush in. “Take it… and try.”
Nightmare
The architect builds the dream, the dreamer populates it.
Some minds are more creative, and buck against the bland recreations of reality that extractors find most effective for their task. Some minds are too disturbed, and carry dangerous baggage hidden deep in the subconscious. Even the best profiler isn’t psychic, can’t know all a mark’s hidden traumas.
The sunny park across from the towering skyscraper is supposed to offer the target a mental reprieve, to represent a place of safety. They’re walking there now, the conversation casual and the glances nervous as all around them, faceless clowns sharpen their knives….
inception100...)High Tide
Notes: based on my memories of trips to the Bay of Fundy, where careless people really can drown when they aren't paying attention to the incoming tides. Open to suggestions for a better title.
Mud and little pools of water stretch as far as he can see; slimy, warty seaweed covers the rocks. They were talking about accounts, clients, secrets. Progress. But this is not the beach he designed.
She smiles. “The tides rise fast here. People get stranded on sandbars just like this one and drown.” She plucks a small snail from a tide pool. “I love periwinkles. I used to imagine you could find some secret to the universe if you could understand how their shells formed so perfectly.” She looks at him as the waters rush in. “Take it… and try.”
Nightmare
The architect builds the dream, the dreamer populates it.
Some minds are more creative, and buck against the bland recreations of reality that extractors find most effective for their task. Some minds are too disturbed, and carry dangerous baggage hidden deep in the subconscious. Even the best profiler isn’t psychic, can’t know all a mark’s hidden traumas.
The sunny park across from the towering skyscraper is supposed to offer the target a mental reprieve, to represent a place of safety. They’re walking there now, the conversation casual and the glances nervous as all around them, faceless clowns sharpen their knives….
