babygray: (heh...)
Long time no see. Here's some original fiction.

Title: Clay
Author: [insanejournal.com profile] babygray
Pairing: ...
Genre/Tropes: Fantasy, Tech vs. Magic
Warnings: Typos. No beta.
Notes: I was thinking of a few things while writing this. Mostly about Pygmalion, the myth not the play, but that was after the initial spark. I wrote it mostly to have something to read at an open-mic night. It took 2 weeks to mull over, and a couple of days to get on paper. I just wish it was better.
Word Count: 1485
Summary: A little girl helps a man make something real.

Clear skies, no phone towers... )
babygray: (mockit)
A bit of Star Wars-esque original fiction...

Title: Smoking on Silqan
Author: [insanejournal.com profile] babygray
Pairing: None.
Warnings: Typos. No beta.
Disclaimer: This is just fanfiction, non-profit and just for fun.
Notes: I love Star Wars, but every time I try to write some fanfiction for it, it ends up like something from the Extended Universe as opposed to fanfiction proper. Does that make sense?
Word Count: 256
Summary: A spacer takes a break.

I tugged at the collar of my coat... )
babygray: (Default)

We didn't talk as he held my hand. The night was, unsuprisingly, even hotter than the day had been, and I repressed the urge to wipe the sweat gathering just underneath the collar of my cotton yukata.

"You want something before we go?" he said as we walked to the station, lost in a crowd that was slowly moving in the same direction. I barely shook my head in the negative, my throat suddenly desiring the cool sweet rush of shaved ice to spite me. I just wanted to go home.

"You sure?" he asked, a look of concern on his face, his large, warm eyes unhidden by the simple glasses he wore. His concern for me made my skin burn in irritation.

"I'm fine," I answered, deliberately looking away from him and his concern, finding very little to see but the backs of others.

I knew I was being difficult. I didn't need to tell him why.

His thumb rubbed a warm circle against my hand. Neither of us were leading the way through the crowd. We were caught adrift in the motion of others, walking down the narrow side streets like in a dream.

"I'm sorry," he said. The irritation under my skin sunk deeper into me.

"For what," I answered softly.

He stopped, his thick body a boulder in the stream, his grip surprisingly strong as he anchored me to him. I let him pull me towards him, bringing me to stand before him, sheltered by his body from the stream of motion.

"Satchan," he said softly, his inescapable warm eyes taking me in.

... and this is where I get stuck for the night.

The pic is a guerilla shot from the Kumagaya Matsuri last week.

babygray: (Default)

I read in a book today that June 22nd is Bowling Day. Don't understand why though. But that factoid is the basis of this ramble.


Sharona pumped her fist in the air as she managed her third strike in a row. )

babygray: (Default)

The song "Pride" by High and Mighty Color, inspired both this rough outline of a picture and a story that I'm currently trying to figure out.

Poor things, becoming inspiration for doofs with tablets and some typing skills.

Draft of story, part one, follows.


Hakanaku chitta hikari ga... )

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babygray

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