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17 September 2007 @ 11:55 pm
Theatrical Muse: Week 196: Question 196  
Name: Dr. Sid Hammerback

Fandom: CSI: New York

Word Count: 810


Congratulations! You've been granted one wish. What is it?


New York City was a beautiful place, full of history, full of little corners and niches were wondrous things could be found. It progressed rapidly, steaming onwards, as it had done for so long, but even in the things it left behind, old train tracks, abandoned buildings with crumbing, archaic walls, there was boundless, triumphant beauty. As fashions fell, as technology gave way to improvement, to updates, to software patches, NYC keep growing, NYC kept continuing. Even when the planes blighted its rolling landscape of concrete towers and glass faced constructions, New York City, continued.

Sid sat silent on a park bench, methodically eating his way through a ham and salad sandwich, leg lifted, right foot on left knee, creating a platform for the newspaper he had open in front of him. Like a slap, something triggered his senses and suddenly, he could feel all the muscles in his body, alive, stretching and contorting so he could sit in his current position, eating his lunch. It was the smell, perhaps, of the woman who had just sat down next to him, her smell, her similar perfume, and it jogged a memory in his mind of a day, so long past, a day, of course, spent with his wife, spent being happy, being in love. It tore away inside him, flickered through his brain, so he squinted, and concentrated, and forced himself to continue.

In the face of adversity, on that day, people showed their strengths. They placed aside the thought of walking away, and went right into it. As concrete fell, as papers flew every which way, as destruction reigned supreme and deadly dust spread its fingers outstretched, people rolled into action. The Twin Towers became Ground Zero, and even when the wreckage was cleared away, and it looked, almost normal, people stilled remembered. They wished it hadn’t been so, but it had, and so, they continued. People mourned, people were laid out and people were buried, and then, time moved on, whisking New York City to a future time and place where the city whirled onwards, forever marked, but forever changing.

He was agitated at injustice, at murder, at some innocent ending up dead and blank faced on his table, when it shouldn’t have been so. It wasn’t even a new occurrence, because innocent people were murdered all the time, but the woman had been young, she had, she had had so much life ahead of her, so many things she could have done. He raged for a while, for a short while, before Marianne subdued him, pressing her lips against his, hushing his angry words, soothing his troubled spirit. She calmed him and showed him a new bottle of perfume, troubling him for a while with the whimsies and curves of the little glass bottle, how it was a bit different from the old one, how she liked it. She kept talking, kept soothing him, rubbing his back, until his breathing calmed and he smiled, a wicked expression tearing its way across his face. He laid her down that night, as his rage subsided, tied her up, stripped her bare, sprayed her lightly with perfume and whispered sweet nothings in her ears. Passions overcame any residual anger at the world, and all was calm again.

In the present day, things continued moving and developing. Within the city people kept moving, trains arrived at their stops, people got off, jobs were found, lost, looked for. People bought and sold and the commercial world continued, the industrial world continued, and people continued. They continued and they thrived, and because they thrived, so did the wonderful city they lived in. Some people may still have been horrible, some people still may have killed and terrorised, but at large, the future had turned out pretty well.

The emotions rose within him, threatening to break the surface, suddenly, and he was sad. Sad because, whoever it was that sat beside him, smelt like her, and, after all, it had been so long, so long since, that moment, so long since she had died, since they had died. So long since all of that past, all of those past things had happened. Then why should something so small remind him of her now, and why, why should it affect him so much. Finishing his sandwich, Sid turned, and smiled.

“That is a very nice perfume you are wearing.” he said, speaking before realising who it was next to him.

Stella smiled back at him, her grin infectious, and, all of a sudden, it didn’t matter so much anymore. Still, though, if he had any wish, this thought struck him just as suddenly too, what he wouldn’t give to have his wife and children safely back with him, never having left, never having been killed, his life, never having been changed and destroyed, at all.
 
 
Current Mood: distresseddistressed
Current Music: Angel of Music - The Phantom of the Opera