Drabble Post - Seasons Change (FMA)
Oct. 3rd, 2011 11:32 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kristenskBarely squeaking in before the end of October 3rd here.
Title: Seasons Change
Author: Kristen Sharpe
Date: October 3, 2011
Rating: E
Warnings: None.
Continuity/Timeline: Mangaverse, Post-Promised Day
Disclaimer: “Fullmetal Alchemist” belongs to Hiromu Arakawa, Square ENIX, Studio BONES and various other parties.
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It was midday when the calendar caught Winry’s eye. She froze for an instant, fingers slack around the support column of Mr. Johnson’s new automail leg.
In the silence, Ed’s swearing drifted in from outside. He had been waging war on the porch - and his fingers - for the last two hours. Al’s voice floated behind Ed’s invectives, teasing gently.
Slowly, Winry resumed working, lost in thought.
No one had mentioned what day it was. Ed had attacked the sagging porch rails right after breakfast, and Al had gone into town for some groceries. Had they forgotten too?
Maybe. Time was strange now. Now that the brothers had come home and all of them began this strange, wonderful new existence of after.
Tightening a last bolt in the leg’s knee joint, Winry came to a decision.
Minutes later, she was slipping past the bickering Elrics with a wave and a hasty explanation.
Conveniently, October was apple season. And, if October 3, 1911 had been marked with the acrid scent of smoke and the salt of tears, she was going to be sure that October 3, 1915 was marked with the scent of fresh baked apple pie and smiling faces.
Title: Seasons Change
Author: Kristen Sharpe
Date: October 3, 2011
Rating: E
Warnings: None.
Continuity/Timeline: Mangaverse, Post-Promised Day
Disclaimer: “Fullmetal Alchemist” belongs to Hiromu Arakawa, Square ENIX, Studio BONES and various other parties.
----------------------------------------------
It was midday when the calendar caught Winry’s eye. She froze for an instant, fingers slack around the support column of Mr. Johnson’s new automail leg.
In the silence, Ed’s swearing drifted in from outside. He had been waging war on the porch - and his fingers - for the last two hours. Al’s voice floated behind Ed’s invectives, teasing gently.
Slowly, Winry resumed working, lost in thought.
No one had mentioned what day it was. Ed had attacked the sagging porch rails right after breakfast, and Al had gone into town for some groceries. Had they forgotten too?
Maybe. Time was strange now. Now that the brothers had come home and all of them began this strange, wonderful new existence of after.
Tightening a last bolt in the leg’s knee joint, Winry came to a decision.
Minutes later, she was slipping past the bickering Elrics with a wave and a hasty explanation.
Conveniently, October was apple season. And, if October 3, 1911 had been marked with the acrid scent of smoke and the salt of tears, she was going to be sure that October 3, 1915 was marked with the scent of fresh baked apple pie and smiling faces.
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