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cooking dinner.

i remembered on my walk home that a few nites ago at some stupid hour when I was trying to sleep i had a thought to add something to the short story i havent touched since i was in chicago in november... i want to add a description of falling asleep to the point where one of the characters actually falls asleep... so I just re-read it and I thought i would post the section as a reminder to myself.... this is not even a rough draft just direct how it came out of my head so forgive it.

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The Den is easy to find from the back entrance. Just down the hall and around the corner. The large double doors that formed the entrance of the room were large and heavy. I noticed, as I approached, that there was no light or sound coming from the room. I pushed the doors open slowly and put my head in the door.

The lights were indeed off. The fire burned down to probably a third of its size from when it was at its most majestic and it cast its light all over the room in sheets of orange. Any obstruction easily cut through the orange sheet and created dark shadows of lines and faceless heads that played flat and daring in the noiseless two dimensional world of the wall.

I didn’t see **** so I walked in and headed to the fire. The giant 10 foot polar bear looming overhead. It was obviously out of its element so close to a burning fire in a room with the heads of animals it shouldn’t be within a thousand miles of and yet still commanded a presence over the entire place like it was his home. Its giant paws spread with a warning that in one deadly swoop it could take the life of any being it chose. Its hind legs braced the massive structure with such sure footing that the most slippery snow and ice could not take him down.

There, with the giant bear lurking over her, laid ****. Sleeping silently under the blanket of protection provided by the bear. Her presence turned the bears stance from hostile aggressor to family protector. It turned the light of the dancing flames away from the hundreds of tiny faceless ghosts into warmth for the homestead.

Her chest moved slowly up and down breathing in the dry warm air. There was a cup of tea just off the round rug she was on. Half gone and no longer steaming. She looked very comfortable and I didn’t want to disturb her. I laid down on the couch, closed my eyes and listened to the music of the fire crackling, the slow breaths, and the faint noises of the left over partiers. After 5 minutes or so I stopped my recording and fell asleep.

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dinner is done. i hope you dont fight as much as i do. good nite soldier.