Hinterlands
Feb. 16th, 2009 12:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
taras_olekseiTaras Oleksei was a long way from home.
He knew it with a certainty that lived quietly under his tattooed chest, as if he could feel how far he was from Leningrad.
It was nights like this - lying in bed, alone, bare skin freshly showered, warm under clean sheets - that he felt it more keenly than he did during the day.
Where you are isn't as important as who you're with, Lasha had said, and he was right, but when Taras was alone, the where grew longer, like a shadow under a low, harsh sun that never set, and just as hard to escape.
He held the phone against his ear, waiting, eyes closed to the darkness.
There was a pause, then a click.
"Connecting you now, sir," the operator told him.
The phone began to ring, and it sounded close.
He knew it with a certainty that lived quietly under his tattooed chest, as if he could feel how far he was from Leningrad.
It was nights like this - lying in bed, alone, bare skin freshly showered, warm under clean sheets - that he felt it more keenly than he did during the day.
Where you are isn't as important as who you're with, Lasha had said, and he was right, but when Taras was alone, the where grew longer, like a shadow under a low, harsh sun that never set, and just as hard to escape.
He held the phone against his ear, waiting, eyes closed to the darkness.
There was a pause, then a click.
"Connecting you now, sir," the operator told him.
The phone began to ring, and it sounded close.
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Date: 2009-02-24 07:15 am (UTC)Taras said the word with particular care, slowly, as if sounding it out, though he knew what it meant, just fine.
It was like silverware, he supposed. Among other things. Fancy pricks had something specific for everything. A fork just for seafood. A spoon just for melon. They had doctors who only looked at people's feet. He supposed a specialist for nightmares fit right in.
He trapped the bottle against his chest, arm tucked around it. Holding it close, because it was something to hold. Even warmed by his body, the smooth glass still felt chill against his skin.
"I don't know anyone else who has nightmares," he added, more quietly.
Taras paused, lips compressing briefly.
"Had nightmares, you said. So did this...specialist...fix it?"