Ummm....

[the-star-fish.livejournal.com]

This one I blame on dedicate to cmshaw, whose post on "why aren't there more polar bears in due South fic?" got me thinking ... and I was at work all day with nothing else to do ...

If you squint, it has a little bit to do with movies.


Sometimes, when he dreams about it, it seems like a movie. He watches himself waiting outside the polar bear tank. Thinks about how like those bears he is -- cut off from all things familiar, thrust into an alien environment. On display, constantly under scrutiny. Judged (or mis-judged) by his appearance -- how could anything that looks so cute be taken seriously?

Sometimes, in his movie-dreams, he dives into the pool before Victoria arrives. He swims with the bears until one of them, in a misguided attempt to be playful, mauls him. He sinks to the bottom of the tank, watching his blood swirl in ribbons above him. When he wakes from one of these dreams, he lies in bed shaking, until he remembers that the real ending, the one that replays over and over in other, more disturbing dreams -- that one ended even worse.