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thelonelylakeopen wide and empty. shetland, rhona/phyllis. phyllis comes to say goodbye. 250w, rated t. for femslashfete 'seaweed' and sapphic summer 'mossy, skeletonised remains as a metaphor for the characters' relationship'.
Phyllis has the decency to find her and Storm on the beach. It's an autumn-quiet Saturday morning, and she'd thought Phyllis's silhouette illusory at first, a salt-spray shadow manifested by the uncaring light. But Storm's ears had perked up, she'd abandoned the mossy remnants of decades-old whale bones she loved to nose through to return to Rhona's side, and now—
Phyllis had never quite managed to dress for the beach, even now in trainers and jeans she looks stiff and formal, like she'd made no effort at all. She's picking her way across the seaweed, the spiral wrack and oarweed stretched across the shore dripping from her trainers no matter how she shakes them off.
Rhona wants to laugh, but she knows the impulse now for a cruel one. And maybe Phyllis deserves it, now, but Rhona's too tired to see it through.
"I won't say sorry," Phyllis says, when Rhona draws close enough to hear her over the wind. "I know it doesn't matter anymore. I just wanted to say — well, goodbye, I suppose."
Months she's had to think of what she'd like to say to Phyllis, and yet, in the moment, all that leaves her mouth is, "Okay. Goodbye, then."
It's more a question than she wanted it to be, but Phyllis just smiles, resigned, like she'd expected exactly that. "Okay," she says, and turns away.
Rhona thinks of the rotting bones, the life growing over them, and wishes she wanted to say something to call her back.
femslashfete 'seaweed' and sapphic summer 'mossy, skeletonised remains as a metaphor for the characters' relationship'.Phyllis has the decency to find her and Storm on the beach. It's an autumn-quiet Saturday morning, and she'd thought Phyllis's silhouette illusory at first, a salt-spray shadow manifested by the uncaring light. But Storm's ears had perked up, she'd abandoned the mossy remnants of decades-old whale bones she loved to nose through to return to Rhona's side, and now—
Phyllis had never quite managed to dress for the beach, even now in trainers and jeans she looks stiff and formal, like she'd made no effort at all. She's picking her way across the seaweed, the spiral wrack and oarweed stretched across the shore dripping from her trainers no matter how she shakes them off.
Rhona wants to laugh, but she knows the impulse now for a cruel one. And maybe Phyllis deserves it, now, but Rhona's too tired to see it through.
"I won't say sorry," Phyllis says, when Rhona draws close enough to hear her over the wind. "I know it doesn't matter anymore. I just wanted to say — well, goodbye, I suppose."
Months she's had to think of what she'd like to say to Phyllis, and yet, in the moment, all that leaves her mouth is, "Okay. Goodbye, then."
It's more a question than she wanted it to be, but Phyllis just smiles, resigned, like she'd expected exactly that. "Okay," she says, and turns away.
Rhona thinks of the rotting bones, the life growing over them, and wishes she wanted to say something to call her back.
no subject
Date: 2026-10-09 12:27 am (UTC)I do not know this canon, but I really like this piece.