![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Fucking Mystery, "I Can't Find It"
Title: Fucking Magic
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kay_willow
Rating: PG-13. Um... Cursing.
Notes: Response to "Deja Vu" challenge -- challenge #3, "I can't find it." First post to this list. Written in 17 minutes, 239 words.
"I can't find it."
Fucking Magic
No response. Sasha was disbelieving and horrified and pissed off, and Coyote wasn't listening to him. So he repeated himself, more firmly: "I can't find it."
Coyote looked up from the DVD rack. Mild as ever, he said, "It'll turn up."
"But I should be able to find it. It's--" Sasha waved an arm, frustrated. "It's something I do."
With a gentle sympathy that Sasha suspected was cover for an amused grin, Coyote stepped closer. "It's okay," he said, wrapping consoling arms around his lover. "It happens to the best of us."
He says it like I need Viagra or something. Sasha clenched his teeth. "It doesn't happen to me," he reminded. "I mean, if I got offered the choice, it would happen to me all the time, but I don't, I just know where things are, it's fucking magic."
"Most people would like to have magic powers that allow them to find things," Coyote murmured into his hair, unrelenting in his benevolence.
"But what good is it," Sasha demanded, "if I can't find the goddamn remote control?"
He would find the remote control the next morning, and put it back where it belonged without even thinking about it, while making omelets. He would have already forgotten the previous night's sulk, and never realize the irony of it, sparing himself a great deal of aggravation. Coyote would smile into his coffee and say nothing.
Author:
kay_willowRating: PG-13. Um... Cursing.
Notes: Response to "Deja Vu" challenge -- challenge #3, "I can't find it." First post to this list. Written in 17 minutes, 239 words.
"I can't find it."
Fucking Magic
No response. Sasha was disbelieving and horrified and pissed off, and Coyote wasn't listening to him. So he repeated himself, more firmly: "I can't find it."
Coyote looked up from the DVD rack. Mild as ever, he said, "It'll turn up."
"But I should be able to find it. It's--" Sasha waved an arm, frustrated. "It's something I do."
With a gentle sympathy that Sasha suspected was cover for an amused grin, Coyote stepped closer. "It's okay," he said, wrapping consoling arms around his lover. "It happens to the best of us."
He says it like I need Viagra or something. Sasha clenched his teeth. "It doesn't happen to me," he reminded. "I mean, if I got offered the choice, it would happen to me all the time, but I don't, I just know where things are, it's fucking magic."
"Most people would like to have magic powers that allow them to find things," Coyote murmured into his hair, unrelenting in his benevolence.
"But what good is it," Sasha demanded, "if I can't find the goddamn remote control?"
He would find the remote control the next morning, and put it back where it belonged without even thinking about it, while making omelets. He would have already forgotten the previous night's sulk, and never realize the irony of it, sparing himself a great deal of aggravation. Coyote would smile into his coffee and say nothing.
no subject
no subject
I love writing drabbles. *_* They're like crack. Which is odd considering that I used to have a professor who wanted us to do essentially the same thing, all the time, and I HATED that. Maybe because it's different with ficlets than... essays. XD
no subject
I should write more drabbles... they'd be fun and good for keeping creativity up. ^^
no subject
But look out. They're addictive. Like crack. XD