See Mulder Play
by Sebastian
Author's Notes: Abject apologies to Pink Floyd. No rating, no plot.
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
Mulder tries, but misunderstands.
He's often inclined to borrow somebody's dreams 'til tomorrow.
And will they ever learn? How he's feeling now?
When someone lurks just outside the door...
The door to somewhere else. Somewhere he's never been. Yet in dreams it comes, all over creation, all over everyone, it's everything. All understanding.
From five hundred miles away.
The footsteps came.
One by one, advancing evermore. Nearer now. Nearer and nearer. And Mulder knows. He's known -
for evermore.
Looks down; touches the ground.
Feels the tread, shivers the ground, comes closer.
Tomorrow, the dream isn't his. Looks at air, gelid, quivering, sun like silver honey in his veins.
And darkness slides once more into being and he's not... there's no Mulder. Reach for the dream. Hear him come. Tiptoe. Patter. Slither.
Soon after dark, Mulder cries. Gazing through trees in sorrow...
hardly a sound 'til tomorrow...
Silence crimson, pulses.
Just beyond, but his hand cannot reach. Cannot reach, though fingertips pass into the room, into the air.
They touch him. Move into him. Become him.
He's there. Just behind your door.
Float on a river forever and ever, Mulder.
There is no other day
Let's try it another way
You'll lose your mind and play...
-- End --
★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★
| Alex Annex | Characters | Stories/Alpha | Stories/Author | Home |
