Title: Glass Hearts
Characters: Owen, Katie, Jack.
Word Count: 707
Summary: When he lost Katie, Owen discovered that he wasn’t as tough as he’d always thought.
Content Notes: None needed.
Written For: Challenge #198: Glass.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
( Glass Hearts... )
First: Which Beatles song was I thinking of? If you want to hear me sing it, here it is:
If you’d rather hear the Beatles sing it (which, to be fair, is probably the better choice) it’s here:
And for those of you who don’t wish to hear either version (or can’t, for whatever reason): It’s “I’ve Just Seen a Face.”
There were three of you who correctly picked the tune I was thinking of, and of the three, my random number generator (“Alexa, pick a number between one and three”) picked “one” and so the winner is Maudie, who was the first to suggest it. Congratulations, Maudie!
Remember that the signed limited hardcover of Don’t Live For Your Obituary is now available for pre-order from Subterranean Press. There will also be an eBook edition, but it’s not available for pre-order yet.
Thank you to everyone who entered! This was a fun one.
It's been moderately better than last year, but still with creative and energetic lulls that seem more depressing than normal.
I finally had ideas, motivation, and time when what did I discover... Photobucket is full of bullshit and fuckery, and wants to charge ransom prices to 3rd party host images. You know, I could go with $40 a year. $400, uh, no, not happening.
Fortunately, a beautiful friend has gifted me space at Pan Historia to get my account there back to normal. I'll be wrangling things there to my satisfaction and rippling down through the DW accounts.
So, please pardon the blood, dust, sweat, and tears. I'm redesigning while the boys in the lab work on combustible lemons.
We were directly behind them in line. It was busy in the supermarket so the line ups were long and the waits seemed longer. At first we thought he was on his own because he was standing with his cart, by himself, staring into his phone. But about five minutes later his wife arrived. She used a walker and in the walker's basket she had tucked away some other groceries which she put into the cart, he didn't look up when she arrived, didn't acknowledge her in any way. After she was done, she turned her walker and sat down. She was clearly tired.
When the line moved, he quickly moved the cart ahead. We had to wait as she got up, steadied herself at the walker and then moved up to join her husband. He looked at us with a pained expression, then looked to her, and back to us, and rolled his eyes. Then, he went back to his phone. He had still not spoken to her. I was shocked that he rolled his eyes about her to me. I'm sitting in a damn wheelchair and somehow he wanted me to share in his tiresome gift of patience for his wife's slow movements.
The was a kerfuffle at the counter and the wait drew on. She, seated again in her walker, attempted to talk to him, to engage him in conversation. He, still looking at his phone, put his finger up to indicate, "just a minute" but really it meant "shut up and leave me alone." She was mortified and humiliated by his behaviour. She knew we had seen and tried desperately not to look at us. She started to mumble under her breath cursing her "G-d damned disability."
He did finally speak to her, only to tell her that she was in our way, he spoke sharply. I sharply responded that she wasn't in our way at all. He looked at me and then her and then smiled and shook his head.
I'd seen her before and she has always been friendly. When I arrived she was doing what she was doing on her own, listening to music through ear pods. I noticed another fellow there, about her age, which was also about my age. He too was doing what he was doing, plugged in to music. She then moved to another activity and he, when she walked by her, gave her a thumbs up and a smile. It's a place where people encourage people so that wasn't unusual.
A few minutes later, she was having trouble with the machine she wanted to use, and he got up and walked over to her, smiled and helped out. I couldn't hear what was said but they were both laughing. He was a handsome, and very fit, man, grey on the sides and a ready smile. She was a pretty, fat woman, freshly blond who also had a ready smile. They both, at different times, helped me out when it was needed.
During the time we shared space they went back and forth to each other, him encouraging her, she kissing him in thanks. It was lovely to see the interaction. Others in the area, were quite dismissive of her, her weight being a problem for them. They do that less with me because my disability makes me inspirational and that's the story they seem as a group to want to tell.
Thinking About It:
Both with wives who have differences.
I'll bet you feel very differently about the two men. I'll bet you have made judgments about how they treated their wives, I know I did. Let's look at what they did.
One did all he could to communicate the burden his wife was, the fact that he saw her as barely human was also clearly expressed. He is educating the public, or rather confirming the bias, about disabled people as spouses. We destroy the lives of those around us, we suck the joy out of the air, we just selfishly refuse to die to remove our inconvenient selves.
The other, with no effort at all, because it takes much more effort to communicate displeasure than pleasure, let everyone know that he was proud of, and that he loved his wife. Fat or no, other's opinions or no, he loved his wife. He too was educating the public, or rather he challenged stereotypes, and with a simple loving gesture he put paid to ignorance.
It is so easy to see how the men behaved and to recognize how one hurt while the other helped. It's easy. But do you apply the same standards to yourself?
What if these people were Direct Support Professionals out with someone they say that they serve. One on a cell phone, one burdened by tasks they are paid for, one letting people know, that even when salaried, disabled people are nearly not worth the trouble. The other attentive and helpful and encouraging and communicating respect and care, with every action communicating that difference is just difference and that difference doesn't preclude respect.
I wonder if DSP's realize sometime that every time they go out in support of someone with a disability they are educating the public about the worth and value of the people they serve. An 'outing' is never simply an 'outing' ... it's much more than that, it's where you begin to fulfil the mission of every agency who serves people with disabilities, that of creating a world where people with disabilities are valued and respected.
Every time you go out, you change the world, for better or worse, you change the world.
It's that big.
I managed to use the c-pap all night, though.
I'm a little cranky that, although he stayed up past when it was done drying, he didn't bring up the laundry. I really don't want to face the stairs right now, but that is my only source of clean clothing unless I'm willing to wake Scott.
My month to date word count is 21752. That's the highest for any month so far this year, even if I write nothing else whatsoever. Yesterday, I added about 1300 words to my Captive Audience fic and then realized I may need to make a major alteration in the setting. I'm hoping not, though. Today's writing will mostly be tweaks to the second of my Pod Together stories to try to make the rhythm of certain passages work better for the person doing the podfic.
We were surprised when we went downtown to the library yesterday afternoon-- Apparently Art Fair now includes Sunday. For as long as I can remember, Sunday was tear down and clean up, but one of the employees at the library told me that Sunday's been part of actual Art Fair for a couple of years now.
We stopped by the science and nature center to do some Ingress, and we took back the portals that someone from the other side had captured. We had planned to go into the woods to reinforce the two portals there, but we decided against it because of the risk of ticks. The other portals are all accessible from places that should be much lower risk for ticks (close cropped grass or asphalt). We'll hope no one knocks out those two portals for a while. It can be done from the street because high level bursters have a pretty extensive reach. The portals just can't be captured from there because one has to be much closer in order to place resonators and mods.
I told Scott that we should hope for the other side coming by frequently. He's close to leveling up, and recapturing a portal is worth a fair number of points.
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Lemon juice has long come in containers shaped like lemons.
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What's It Really Like To Work In A Prison Goat Milk Farm? We Asked Inmates (The issue isn't the work, it's the pay. Pay them actual minimum wage. If you don't want them to use that money, require them to save most of it for when they are released. Even if you don't want to pay them, it seems obvious that not doing so drives down everybody else's wages.)
Cooling the tube – Engineering heat out of the Underground
The Kitten Rental Program is Saving Lives (It's all in the marketing ♥)
When New York City Rioted Over Hamlet Being Too British
Sean Spicer stole a mini-fridge from White House staffers (One can only hope they are now able to reclaim it.)
In South Sudan, a child soldier long thought dead comes back
Schumer, Gillibrand Co-Sponsor Senate Bill That Would Make Boycotting Israel A Felony (Oh, ffs. You can have a perfectly rational reason for criticizing specific policies taken by the Israeli government without hating or even disliking: Jews, Israelis, and/or the modern nation-state of Israel. And I voted for these people! Oh, uh... don't read the comments. Sheesh.)
Israel's struggle to integrate ultra-Orthodox and Arabs raises economic fears
Disabled and disdained: In rural America, some towns are divided between those who work and those who don’t
For Ethiopia’s Underemployed Youth, Life Can Center on a Leaf
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Protecting our children from climate change might take more than just cutting emissions
I have also strained my wrist and am lumbering about in a giant wrist brace, and forgetting and typing/lifting/living life with both hands periodically and then swearing a lot. So between modding, writing, and that I probably won't be around much for a little bit. But I am reading! I can scroll a reading page one handed at least!
'It remains a frustration to hear GENERATIONS referred to as an "Elseworld" story. DC put the ELSEWORLD bullet on the covers against my wishes. The whole thing was an IMAGINARY STORY, as declared in the logo. And it was important that it was "imaginary". The whole notion of including so many of the continuity lapses from the old books (Superboy can fly, early Superman can't, etc) simply doesn't work if it's an "Elseworld". And, of course rub salt in the wound they even included a scene from GENERATIONS in the montage that introduced "hypertime". GAH!!!' - John Byrne
( Read more... )