path_unprepared (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
path_unprepared) wrote2006-03-30 09:26 pm
path_unprepared) wrote2006-03-30 09:26 pm
(no subject)
It takes a moment for him to realise that the ground beneath his feet is not the hard, polished wood of a floor, but something oddly springy.
He slows, and lowers his book.
Somehow, he's not inside Nemuro Memorial Hall on a late afternoon. He's outside, wet grass underfoot and a starry sky above.
This would be strange in and of itself, were it not also for the fact that a short distance away is a greenhouse that looks exactly like the one
('I wonder if the flowers themselves are happy, being forced to last so long.')
in Ohtori.
He slows, and lowers his book.
Somehow, he's not inside Nemuro Memorial Hall on a late afternoon. He's outside, wet grass underfoot and a starry sky above.
This would be strange in and of itself, were it not also for the fact that a short distance away is a greenhouse that looks exactly like the one
('I wonder if the flowers themselves are happy, being forced to last so long.')
in Ohtori.
no subject
As he turns, and walks back to the bar, he wonders why the name Anthy Himemiya should sound so familiar to him.
no subject
But her garden needs tending. And so she doesn't.