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Title: Sense Memory
Word count: 153
Characters/pairings: Ten (Ten/Rose implied)
Setting: S3, no spoilers
Rating: all ages
Summary: The senses remember what the mind would like to forget. (angst)
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achuislemochroi
Notes Written fordw_ficontest Challenge 1, Prompt "Foods"
Disclaimer: Based on characters owned by BBC... blah,blah not mine, blah, blah.
He stares at the banana, pungently ripe, and thinks of elegant clockwork and squareness guns.
He catches a hint of chips in the wind as he winds his way through the streets, and he is dazzled by the sight of worlds ending behind his eyes.
He walks alone through joyful crowds, the emptiness of countless dead galaxies echoing in his footsteps, his mind full of fairy cakes with edible ball bearings.
With swirling forms on a sticky note, he adds further destinations to avoid. Villangard and Olympics. Chip shops and bakeries. Rome and a certain corner of the British Museum.
The TARDIS whispers in his mind, but he ignores her, frowning down at tea that is strangely unsatisfying, perhaps lacking something only found on London estates. And if he sometimes imagines the ghostly scent of tannins wafting from below the console when the circuits heat just right? Well, he'll keep that to himself.
Word count: 153
Characters/pairings: Ten (Ten/Rose implied)
Setting: S3, no spoilers
Rating: all ages
Summary: The senses remember what the mind would like to forget. (angst)
Beta:
achuislemochroiNotes Written for
dw_ficontest Challenge 1, Prompt "Foods"Disclaimer: Based on characters owned by BBC... blah,blah not mine, blah, blah.
He stares at the banana, pungently ripe, and thinks of elegant clockwork and squareness guns.
He catches a hint of chips in the wind as he winds his way through the streets, and he is dazzled by the sight of worlds ending behind his eyes.
He walks alone through joyful crowds, the emptiness of countless dead galaxies echoing in his footsteps, his mind full of fairy cakes with edible ball bearings.
With swirling forms on a sticky note, he adds further destinations to avoid. Villangard and Olympics. Chip shops and bakeries. Rome and a certain corner of the British Museum.
The TARDIS whispers in his mind, but he ignores her, frowning down at tea that is strangely unsatisfying, perhaps lacking something only found on London estates. And if he sometimes imagines the ghostly scent of tannins wafting from below the console when the circuits heat just right? Well, he'll keep that to himself.
