![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
theatrical_muse{For Immortal Knowledge Only}
The roar of the sea, the taste of the salt, the wind snapping at my jacket and jeans, it felt good to be alive. I was surprised at how little the island had changed in the millennia since I’d left. The old village looked much as it had, save the roofs had been lost to time. Other than that, it was like I’d only left yesterday.
Granted, the people of my village didn’t exactly build the houses; we simply used what was already there. I could still hear the echoes of the children as they played hiding games, the women as they turned seaweed into the best stew ever, the men as they laughed about female conquests. It had been my life. No one knew, or even suspected, I wasn’t what I appeared to be.
As I walked through the old village, I thought how different life was back then. People cared about each other. We were all one large family. If your neighbor’s child was sick, it mattered. If their wives or husbands died, you grieved with them. In this day and age of cell phones and blogs, you were lucky to know who your neighbors were, much less their kids or their other halves.
I breathed in the memories, and soaked the history. Ironically, the past was my life, in so many ways.
Quinnleigh Kincaid
Highlander/OC
225 Words
The roar of the sea, the taste of the salt, the wind snapping at my jacket and jeans, it felt good to be alive. I was surprised at how little the island had changed in the millennia since I’d left. The old village looked much as it had, save the roofs had been lost to time. Other than that, it was like I’d only left yesterday.
Granted, the people of my village didn’t exactly build the houses; we simply used what was already there. I could still hear the echoes of the children as they played hiding games, the women as they turned seaweed into the best stew ever, the men as they laughed about female conquests. It had been my life. No one knew, or even suspected, I wasn’t what I appeared to be.
As I walked through the old village, I thought how different life was back then. People cared about each other. We were all one large family. If your neighbor’s child was sick, it mattered. If their wives or husbands died, you grieved with them. In this day and age of cell phones and blogs, you were lucky to know who your neighbors were, much less their kids or their other halves.
I breathed in the memories, and soaked the history. Ironically, the past was my life, in so many ways.
Quinnleigh Kincaid
Highlander/OC
225 Words
