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Meril's Drabbles
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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13
Transition

For a random instant-drabbling session. The words were Faramir, towards, special, uncertainty.

March 31, 2005.


~~~

Transition

March 14: Minas Tirith besieged.
March 15: The Battle of the Pelennor.


Every battle, every event, every specially important date laid out in neat black ink against the clean white pages.

Clear, precise, orderly: that was what a war finished was. A war going was something altogether different. A madness that made days reel towards an uncertain future like a drunkard. He closed his eyes.

“Father?”

He opened his eyes to see his grinning son. “Elboron. What is it?”

“Uncle Éomer and Aunt Lothy are here, hurry!”

The black memories faded, and Faramir returned to the living world of peace.

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