Microfic - Yawny at the Apocalypse

[dirigo]

Godric sat in the sun with his face turned up. He couldn't remember himself as a child, but he could imagine that this was what the birds would sound like to a child's ears. Summer heat hummed through his veins, his pumping blood, and when his fingertips brushed through the high grass, the hair on the backs of his arms shivered. Golden grain shot with the purple of flowers, purple so bright he could see it with his eyes closed. He was solid and swaying, he was warm and soft. A push would send him spinning and that fact was so terrifying it made him smile because to fall was to be human, and if he could reach and grasp that shining disc that hung just past his fingertips he would be all right. The ache would fade. The sun would shine bright on his face and no longer chase him into the thick dark, the dark that kept him awake. The thick dark that he awoke to when the dream faded.

[Yawny at the Apocalypse - Andrew Bird]