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"She Waits": a fan ficlet
She is gleaming chrome and carefully polished black steel and she sits with docile patience in the dark. Her windows rolled up, her doors solidly closed, her trunk is cleaned and empty. A worn tan leather notebook has been placed on her front bench, squarely between the driver and passenger side. Her key rests atop the book, its keychain tucked into its pages to hold it steady. On one side, a fast looking motorcycle flanks her; on the other, a curvaceous sedan. Her own lines are sleek and low, weighted with history.
Under the Aquarian Star, a thin layer of dust has settled over the remainder of the forgotten fleet, while through the halls of the bunker, lights have been sensibly shut off, books lined up on shelves, weapons stowed, clothing removed. The key to the iron door has been sent away to a new keeper. In the waiting silence she rests, and the memories she carries in her frame remain hidden and still.
Author's Note: This little piece of description began with a conversation that my husband and I had, about 2 seasons ago, about how Supernatural ought to end. We talked about which brother should die or if both should, or if we'd feel satisfied with an open end or a Butch Cassidy-style "blaze of glory." Then my husband said that the final shot of the series should be the Impala, in the MoL garage, lined up alongside all of the other cars from bygone days. This brilliant image has haunted me ever since, and now takes a shape that really doesn't do it justice. (Whether there is a story to be had here, of where the Winchesters went, or who might be the new keeper of the key, I currently have no idea. If it's there, I haven't seen its form yet, and I find that for now I like the ambiguity of this little camera shot.)
Under the Aquarian Star, a thin layer of dust has settled over the remainder of the forgotten fleet, while through the halls of the bunker, lights have been sensibly shut off, books lined up on shelves, weapons stowed, clothing removed. The key to the iron door has been sent away to a new keeper. In the waiting silence she rests, and the memories she carries in her frame remain hidden and still.
Author's Note: This little piece of description began with a conversation that my husband and I had, about 2 seasons ago, about how Supernatural ought to end. We talked about which brother should die or if both should, or if we'd feel satisfied with an open end or a Butch Cassidy-style "blaze of glory." Then my husband said that the final shot of the series should be the Impala, in the MoL garage, lined up alongside all of the other cars from bygone days. This brilliant image has haunted me ever since, and now takes a shape that really doesn't do it justice. (Whether there is a story to be had here, of where the Winchesters went, or who might be the new keeper of the key, I currently have no idea. If it's there, I haven't seen its form yet, and I find that for now I like the ambiguity of this little camera shot.)
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